The Green Book Part 54

"Very good," returned her master. "How well you have learned to read!

And can you write too? And so that you need no one to guide your hand, as when you wrote your first letter? Ha, ha! That was a joke!"

Then, turning to Daimona, he said, so that Diabolka should hear:

"Why, you have made quite a lady of her."

"And I mean to make a good Christian of her, too," responded Daimona.

Diabolka, seeming not to hear, went on spelling out her psalm.

"Come forward, Sc.h.i.n.ko!" Daimona commanded the man standing behind her chair. "Now, have I not selected a good-looking husband for her?"

"Ah! I sent him to you, too, my lady. Is he not a certain 'cousin' of your ward's?"

"That's why I treat him so well. A fine youth! I have no more faithful servant than he. The peasantry fear him like the very devil. He is my right hand."

"Then I can guess how many floggings he has already administered to them."

"I will give them their wedding. Then I mean to make Sc.h.i.n.ko my house-steward and Diabolka my confidential maid."

"I will provide the wedding presents."

Diabolka continued reading her psalm without interruption. Any other girl at least would have simpered when she heard talk of her wedding in presence of her bridegroom.

"Now we'll finish up supper with a little singing and dancing," said the mistress of the house, signing to Sc.h.i.n.ko.

"Ah! Can Diabolka not only sing sacred songs, but dance too?"

"She neither sings nor dances; she has another calling. There is some one else to do that."

Hereupon twelve pretty young peasant girls entered from a side-door, each with a lute in her hand, their faces expressing more repressed fear than pleasurable expectation. Behind them slid Sc.h.i.n.ko, a long whip in one hand, the other leading a small, humpbacked dwarf on a chain, like a bear, with a bagpipe under his arm. He was hideously ugly, with a hump behind and before, his large bald head sunk between his high shoulders.

His face was the caricature of a man's face, and so distorted with small-pox that it seemed as if the lineaments, being so grotesque, the fell disease had tried to wipe them out; here and there remained a tuft of beard and whisker; he had but one eye. He was revolting to look upon; but when his cheeks distended with the bagpipe he was a perfect monster.

A worthier performer on the bleating goat-skin could scarcely be imagined.

"That's cla.s.sical music," said the master; "but what about the dancing?"

"Wait a minute. That's the best."

Going out once more, Sc.h.i.n.ko returned with the _ballerina a.s.soluta_, gripping her by the nape of the neck that she might not bite his hand.

She was a deformity in woman's shape--a humpbacked dwarf, with long arms reaching to the ground; her stump nose hardly visible; matted-hair growing down to her eyebrows; her mouth awry with great protruding teeth--add to this an evil, b.e.s.t.i.a.l stamp on all her features. Such was the creature who was to perform a ballet for the amus.e.m.e.nt of the lord of Grusino. She was clad in a dress of gold paper; therefore it did not matter if she tore it. She had been taught to dance as monkeys are, and knew she had to do it.

"Blow away, Vuk! Dance, Polyka!" cried Daimona, clapping her hands; and as the bagpipe began its melody the dancer began her parody of a ballet-dancer, making such pirouettes that with her long arms, not her feet, she chased away the chorus, accompanying the bagpipe with their voices.

"Hopsa! hopsa!" cried Sc.h.i.n.ko, every now and then, and touched up the calves of the dancer's legs with the point of his whip, if she did not spring high enough in the air, at which she made furious grimaces.

Araktseieff and Daimona sank back in their chairs with laughter. The great statesman, the pattern of astute diplomacy, drummed his spurs on the table in his mirth; while Diabolka, without raising her eyes, ever continued spelling out her psalm, as though nothing were going on about her.

At the close of this edifying performance the female monstrosity caught hold of the male by the collar of his coat, and twirled him and his instrument round in a waltz, Sc.h.i.n.ko cracking his whip the while, as though he were in a circus.

"Well, these two will make a pretty couple, too, I declare!" laughed the master. "We will celebrate both weddings together."

Upon which Daimona gave him such a sharp pinch on his arm that he cried out.

The very next day Diabolka's wedding-dress was put in hand. All Daimona's female serfs were at work upon it. Diabolka now usually dined at the minister's table when he entertained the notables of the neighborhood, all of whom were welcome guests when they could prevail upon themselves to kiss Daimona's hand. A dear repast, in truth!

But his guests had still more to put up with. When Araktseieff had drunk too much he would grow quarrelsome and come to blows with them. All the same, they would come back again next day and meet the same fate. A still costlier price to pay!

Sc.h.i.n.ko was the chief flogger of the palace; he had to execute all the scourging, whipping, and lashing with the knout. It was his office. He had no choice but to carry out orders. If his master ordered him to thrash corn, he must do it; if to thrash mujiks, he must thrash them.

Lucky that it was his part to administer, not to receive, the lash.

Moreover, he was a gypsy; and gypsies, it is known, have stronger nerves than other men.

The eve of the wedding-day Daimona commanded Diabolka to try on her gay wedding-dress, and to show herself in it to the master.

He admired it, and gave the girl a slap on the cheek.

"Do you see? I am glad you have grown at last into a respectable young woman. I raised you out of the mire into which you had sunk. Is it not a good thing to have become a well-behaved girl?"

And Diabolka, falling on her knees before him, kissed his feet.

"Nice to be a bride, eh? Now you love your cousin Sc.h.i.n.ko, don't you?"

The girl hid her face in confusion.

"Well, show how you can give a kiss. Where's Sc.h.i.n.ko?"

But Diabolka would not be kissed. Sc.h.i.n.ko might wait till he was married.

"A sensible girl," said her master, praising her. "Now take her to the priest, that she may tell her prayers and confess. To-morrow morning her bridesmaids and groomsmen shall fetch her back. You go with her, Sc.h.i.n.ko!"

After she had gone, Daimona sent for the other bridal couple. They were worthy of each other, Vuk and Polyka.

The humpbacked bridegroom was dressed in a handsome seal-skin coat reaching down to his toes, his cap adorned with a pair of hare's ears; while the bride, with mouth all awry, was attired as a Turkish odalisque, making her more hideous than ever.

"Upon my word, they're a handsome couple!" laughed Araktseieff. "I wonder if that great hunch will prevent her kissing him?"

"That doesn't matter," returned Daimona; "her arms are long enough to pull out his hair."

Nor did it need much encouragement for her to try it even before marriage; a word would have sufficed to give proof of their connubial tenderness.

"It will be rare fun to-morrow!" said Daimona.

"A splendid idea," chimed in her lord.

"Are you satisfied with it?"

"It's a masterwork."

"Well, if you love me, do as I do."