The Precipice Part 20

"Just look at him, Granny! How can anybody keep serious when he mimics Monsieur Charles so nicely?"

"Stop, children," cried Tatiana Markovna, her frown relaxing into smiles.

"Go, and G.o.d be with you. Do whatever you like."

CHAPTER XI

Raisky's patience had to suffer a hard trial in Vera's indifference. His courage failed him, and he fell into a dull, fruitless boredom. In this idle mood he drew village scenes in his sketch alb.u.m--he had already sketched nearly every aspect of the Volga to be seen from the house or the cliff--and he made notes in his note books. He hoped by these occupations to free himself from his obsessing thoughts of Vera. He knew he would do better to begin a big piece of work, instead of these trifles. But he told himself that Russians did not understand hard work, or that real work demanded rude strength, the use of the hands, the shoulders and the back. He thought that in work of this kind a man lost consciousness of his humanity, and experienced no pleasures in his exertions; he shouldered his burden like a horse that seeks to ward off the whip with his tail. Rough manual labour left no place for boredom.

Yet no one seeks distractions in work, but in pleasure. Work, not appearances, he repeated, oppressed by the overpowering dulness which drove him nearly mad, and created a frame of mind quite contrary to his gentle temperament. I have no work, I cannot create as do artists who are absorbed in their work, and are ready to die for it.

He took his cap and strolled into the outlying parts of the town, then into the town, where he observed every pa.s.ser-by, stared into the houses, down the streets, and at last found himself standing before the Koslov's house. Being told that Koslov was at the school, he inquired for Juliana Andreevna. The woman who had opened the door to him, looked at him askance, blew her nose with her ap.r.o.n, wiped it with her finger, and vanished into the house for good. He knocked again, the dogs barked, and then appeared a little girl, holding her finger to her mouth, who stared at him and departed. He was about to knock again, but, instead, turned to go. As he pa.s.sed through the little garden he heard voices, Parisian French, and a woman's voice; he heard laughter and even a kiss.

"Poor Leonti!" he whispered. "Or rather, blind Leonti!"

He stood uncertain whether to go or stay, then hastened his steps, and determined to have speech with Mark. He sought distraction of some kind to rid himself of his mood of depression, and to drive away the insistent thoughts of Vera. Pa.s.sing the warped houses, he left the town and pa.s.sed between two thick hedges beyond which stretched on both sides vegetable gardens.

"Where does the market gardener, Ephraim, live?" he asked, addressing a woman over the hedge who was working in the beds.

Silently, without pausing in her work, she motioned with her elbow to a hut standing isolated in the field. As he climbed over the fence, two dogs barked furiously at him. From the door of the hut came a healthy young woman with sunburnt face and bare arms, holding a baby.

She called off the dogs with curses, and asked Raisky whom he wished to see. He was looking curiously round, since he did not understand how anyone except the peasant and his wife could be living there. The hut, against which were propped spades, rakes and other tools, planks and pails, had neither yard nor fence; two windows looked out on the vegetable garden, two others on the field. In the shed were two horses, here was a pig surrounded by a litter of young, and a hen wandered around with her chickens. A little further off stood some cars and a big telega.

"Does Mark Volokov live here?" asked Raisky.

The woman pointed to the telega in silence.

"That's his room," she said, pointing to one of the windows. "He sleeps in the telega."

"At this time of day?"

"He only came home this morning, probably rather drunk."

Raisky approached the telega.

"What do you want of him?" asked the woman.

"To visit him."

"Let him sleep."

"Why?"

"I am frightened here alone with him, and my husband won't be here yet.

I hope he'll sleep."

"Does he insult you?"

"No, it would be wicked to say such a thing. But he is so restless and peculiar that I am afraid of him."

She rocked the child in her arms, and Raisky looked curiously under the straw covering. Suddenly Mark's tangled hair and beard emerged and the woman vanished into the hut as he cried, "Fool, you don't know how to receive visitors."

"Good-day! What has brought you here?" cried Mark as he crawled out of the telega and stretched himself. "A visit, perhaps."

"I was taking a walk out of sheer boredom."

"Bored! with two beautiful girls at home. You, an artist, and you are taking a walk out of sheer boredom. Don't your affections prosper?" he winked. "They are lovely children, especially Vera?"

"How do you know my cousins, and in what way do they concern you?" asked Raisky drily.

"Don't be vexed. Come into my drawing-room."

"Tell me rather why you sleep in the telega. Are you playing at Diogenes?"

"Yes, because I must."

They entered the hut and went into a boarded compartment, where stood Mark's bed with a thin old mattress, a thin wadded bed-cover and a tiny pillow. Scattered on a shelf on the wall, and on the table lay books, two guns hung on the wall, linen and clothes were tumbled untidily on the only chair.

"This is my salon, sit down on the bed, and I will sit on the chair. Let us take off our coats, for it is infernally hot. No ceremony, as there are no ladies. That's right. Do you want anything? There is nothing but milk and eggs. If you don't want any, give me a cigar."

"Many thanks. I have already breakfasted, and it will presently be dinner time."

"Yes! You live with your Aunt. Weren't you expelled after having harboured me in the night?"

"On the contrary, she reproached me with having allowed you to go to bed without any dessert, and for not having demanded pillows."

"And didn't she rail against me?"

"As usual, but...."

"I know it is habit and does not come from her heart. She has the best heart one can wish for, better than any here. She is bold, full of character, and with a solid understanding; now indeed her brain is weakening...."

"That is your opinion? You have found someone for whom you have sympathy?"

"Yes, especially in one respect. She cannot endure the Governor any more than I can. I don't know what her reasons are; his position is enough for me. We neither of us like the police; we are oppressed by them. The old lady is compelled by them to carry out all sorts of repairs; to me they pay far too much attention, find out where I live, whether I go far from the town, and whom I visit."

Both fell silent.

"Now we have nothing more to talk about. Why did you come here?" asked Mark.

"Because I was bored."

"Fall in love."

Raisky was silent.

"With Vera," continued Mark. "Splendid girl, and she is related to you.