Virgin Soil Part 52

"Listen," Paklin continued, trembling all over with agitation, or may be from timidity; there was a malignant light in his eyes and the tears were nearly choking him--tears of pity for them and rage at himself; "listen, I told you she was married--it wasn't true, I lied! but they must get married--and if you prevent it, if the police get there--there will be a stain on your conscience which you'll never be able to wipe out--and you--"

"If what you have just told me be true," Sipiagin interrupted him still more loudly, "then it can only hasten the measures which I think necessary to take in this matter; and as for the purity of my conscience, I beg you not to trouble about that, my dear sir.

"It's been polished," Markelov put in again; "there is a coat of St.

Petersburg varnish upon it; no amount of washing will make it come clean. You may whisper as much as you like, Mr. Paklin, but you won't get anything out of it!"

At this point the governor considered it necessary to interfere.

"I think that you have said enough, gentlemen," he began, "and I'll ask you, my dear baron, to take Mr. Markelov away. N'est ce pas, Boris, you don't want him any further--"

Sipiagin made a gesture with his hands.

"I said everything I could think of!"

"Very well, baron!"

The adjutant came up to Markelov, clinked his spurs, made a horizontal movement of the hand, as if to request Markelov to make a move; the latter turned and walked out. Paklin, only in imagination it is true, but with bitter sympathy and pity, shook him by the hand.

"We'll send some of our men to the factory," the governor continued; "but you know, Boris, I thought this gentleman" (he moved his chin in Paklin's direction) "told you something about your niece... I understood that she was there at the factory. Then how..."

"It's impossible to arrest her in any case," Sipiagin remarked thoughtfully; "perhaps she will think better of it and return. I'll write her a note, if I may."

"Do please. You may be quite sure... nous offrerons le quidam ... mais nous sommes galants avec les dames et avec celle-la donc!"

"But you've made no arrangements about this Solomin," Kollomietzev exclaimed plaintively. He had been on the alert all the while, trying to catch what the governor and Sipiagin were saying. "I a.s.sure you he's the princ.i.p.al ringleader! I have a wonderful instinct about these things!"

"Pas trop de zele, my dear Simion Petrovitch," the governor remarked with a smile. "You remember Talleyrand! If it is really as you say the fellow won't escape us. You had better think of your--" the governor put his hand to his throat significantly. "By the way," he said, turning to Sipiagin, "et ce gaillard-la" (he moved his chin in Paklin's direction).

"Qu'enferons nous? He does not appear very dangerous."

"Let him go," Sipiagin said in an undertone, and added in German, "La.s.s'

den Lumpen laufen!"

He imagined for some reason that he was quoting from Goethe's Gotz von Berlichingen.

"You can go, sir!" the governor said aloud. "We do not require you any longer. Good day."

Paklin bowed to the company in general and went out into the street completely crushed and humiliated. Heavens! this contempt had utterly broken him.

"Good G.o.d! What am I? A coward, a traitor?" he thought, in unutterable despair. "Oh, no, no! I am an honest man, gentlemen! I have still some manhood left!"

But who was this familiar figure sitting on the governor's step and looking at him with a dejected, reproachful glance? It was Markelov's old servant. He had evidently come to town for his master, and would not for a moment leave the door of his prison. But why did he look so reproachfully at Paklin? He had not betrayed Markelov!

"And why did I go poking my nose into things that did not concern me?

Why could I not sit quietly at home? And now it will be said and written that Paklin betrayed them--betrayed his friends to the enemy!" He recalled the look Markelov had given him and his last words, "Whisper as much as you like, Mr. Paklin, but you won't get anything out of it!" and then these sad, aged, dejected eyes! he thought in desperation. And as it says in the scriptures, he "wept bitterly" as he turned his steps towards the oasis, to Fomishka and Fimishka and Snandulia.

x.x.xVI

WHEN Mariana came out of her room that morning she noticed Nejdanov sitting on the couch fully dressed. His head was resting against one arm, while the other lay weak and helpless on his knee. She went up to him.

"Goodmorning, Alexai. Why, you haven't undressed? Haven't you slept? How pale you are!"

His heavy eyelids rose slowly.

"No, I haven't."

"Aren't you well, or is it the after-effects of yesterday?"

Nejdanov shook his head.

"I couldn't sleep after Solomin went into your room."

"When?"

"Last night."

"Alexai! are you jealous? A new idea! What a time to be jealous in! Why, he was only with me a quarter of an hour. We talked about his cousin, the priest, and discussed arrangements for our marriage."

"I know that he was only with you a short time. I saw him come out. And I'm not jealous, oh no! But still I couldn't fall asleep after that."

"But why?"

Nejdanov was silent.

"I kept thinking... thinking... thinking!"

"Of what?"

"Oh, of you... of him... and of myself."

"And what came of all your thinking?"

"Shall I tell you?"

"Yes, tell me."

"It seemed to me that I stood in your way--in his... and in my own."

"Mine? His? It's easy to see what you mean by that, though you declare you're not jealous, but your own?"

"Mariana, there are two men in me and one doesn't let the other live. So I thought it might be better if both ceased to live."

"Please don't, Alexai. Why do you want to torment yourself and me? We ought to be considering ways and means of getting away. They won't leave us in peace you know."

Nejdanov took her hand caressingly.