The Precipice Part 45

"There seems a remarkable gap between the Fathers and Spinoza and Voltaire. The Encyclopaedists are also included in my library. Did you read them?"

"Nikolai Ivanovich read some to us, and talked about others."

"Did you also occupy yourselves with Feuerbach, with the Socialists and the Materialists?"

"Yes, Natasha's husband asked us to copy out pa.s.sages, which he indicated by pencil marks."

"What was his object in this?"

"I think he was preparing to publish a refutation."

"Where did you obtain the newer books that are not in my library?

Not the exile," he suggested as she gave no answer, "who lives here under police supervision, the same man about whom you wrote to me? But you are not listening."

"Yes, I am. Who gave me the books? Sometimes one person, sometimes another here in the town."

"Volokov borrowed these books."

"Perhaps so, I had them from professors."

The thought flashed through Raisky's head that there might be other professors of the same kind as Monsieur Charles. But he merely asked what were the views of Nikolai Ivanovich on Spinoza and these other writers.

"He says." replied Vera, "that these writings are the efforts of bold minds to evade the truth; they have beaten out for themselves side paths which must in the end unite with the main road. He says too, that all these attempts serve the cause of truth, in that the truth shines out with greater splendour in the end."

"But he does not tell you where truth lies?"

By way of answer she pointed to the little chapel now in sight.

"And you think he is right?"

"I don't think, I believe. And don't you also believe he is right."

He agreed, and she asked him why, that being so, he had asked her.

"I wanted," he said, "to know your opinion."

"But you have often seen me at prayer," said Vera.

"Yes, but I do not overhear your prayers. Do you pray for the alleviation of the restless sorrow that afflicts your mind?"

They had reached the chapel, and Vera stood still for a moment. She did not appear to have heard his question, and she answered only with a deep sigh. It was growing dark as they retraced their steps, Vera's growing slower and more uncertain as they approached the old house, where she stood still and glanced in the direction of the precipice.

"To still the storm I must not go near the precipice, you say--I beg of you to stand by me, for I am sick and helpless."

"Will not Grandmother know better how to help you, Vera? Confide in her, a woman, who will perhaps understand your pain."

She shook her head. "I will tell you, Grandmother and you, but not now; now I cannot. And yet I beg of you not to leave me, not to allow me out of your sight. If a shot summons me, keep me away from the precipice, and, if necessary, hold me back by force. Things are as bad as that with me. That is all you can do for me. That is why I asked you not to go away, because I felt that my strength is failing, because except you I have no one to help me, for Grandmother would not understand. Forgive me."

"You did right, Vera," he replied, deeply moved. "Depend on me. I am willing to stay here for ever, if that will bring you peace."

"No, in a week's time the shots will cease."

She dried her eyes, and pressed his hand; then with slow, uneven steps, supporting herself by the bal.u.s.trade she pa.s.sed up the steps and into the house.

CHAPTER XXII

Two days had pa.s.sed, and Raisky had had small opportunity of seeing Vera alone, though she came to dinner and to tea, and spoke of ordinary things. Raisky turned once more to his novel, or rather to the plan of it. He visited Leonti, and did not neglect the Governor and other friends. But in order to keep watch on Vera he wandered about the park and the garden. Two days were now gone, he thought, since he sat on the bench by the precipice, but there were still five days of danger.

Marfinka's birthday lay two days' ahead, and on that day Vera would hardly leave the family circle. On the next Marfinka was to go with her fiance and his mother to Kolchino, and Vera would not be likely to leave Tatiana Markovna alone. By that time the week would be over and the threatening clouds dispersed.

After dinner Vera asked him to come over to her in the evening, as she wished him to undertake a commission for her. When he arrived she suggested a walk, and, as she chose the direction of the fields he realised that she wished to go to the chapel, and took the field path accordingly.

As she crossed the threshold, she looked up at the thoughtful face of the Christ.

"You have sought more powerful aid than mine," said Raisky. "Moreover, you will not now go there without me."

She nodded in a.s.sent. She seemed to be seeking strength, sympathy and support from the glance of the Crucified, but His eyes kept their expression of quiet thought and detachment.

When she turned her eyes from the picture she reiterated, "I will not go." Raisky read on her face neither prayer nor desire; it wore an expression of weariness, indifference and submission.

He suggested that they should return, and reminded her that she had a commission for him.

"Will you take the bouquet-holder that I chose the other week for Marfinka's birthday to the goldsmith?" she said, handing him her purse.

"I gave him some pearls to set in it, and her name should be engraved.

And could you be up as early as eight o'clock on her birthday?"

"Of course. If necessary, I can stay up all night!"

"I have already spoken to the gardener, who owns the big orangery. Would you choose me a nice bouquet and send it to me. I have confidence in your taste."

"Your confidence in me makes progress, Vera," he laughed. "You already trust my taste and my honour."

"I would have seen to all this myself," she went on, "but I have not the strength."

Next day Raisky took the bouquet holder, and discussed the arrangement of the flowers with the gardener. He himself bought for Marfinka an elegant watch and chain, with two hundred roubles which he borrowed from Tiet Nikonich, for Tatiana Markovna would not have given him so much money for the purpose, and would have betrayed the secret. In Tiet Nikonich's room he found a dressing table decked with muslin and lace, with a mirror encased in a china frame of flowers and Cupids, a beautiful specimen of Sevres work.

"Where did you get this treasure?" cried Raisky, who could not take his eyes from the thing. "What a lovely piece!"

"It is my gift for Marfa Va.s.silievna," said Tiet Nikonich with his kind smile. "I am glad it pleases you, for you are a connoisseur. Your liking for it a.s.sures me that the dear birthday child will appreciate it as a wedding gift. She is a lovely girl, just like these roses. The Cupids will smile when they see her charming face in the mirror. Please don't tell Tatiana Markovna of my secret."

"This beautiful piece must have cost over two thousand roubles, and you cannot possibly have bought it here."

"My Grandfather gave five thousand roubles for it, and it was part of my Mother's house-furnishing and until now it stood in her bedroom, left untouched in my birth-place. I had it brought here last month, and to make sure it should not be broken, six men carried it in alternate shifts for the whole hundred and fifty versts. I had a new muslin cover made, but the lace is old; you will notice how yellow it is. Ladies like these things, although they don't matter to us."

"What will Grandmother say?"