‘That’s enough, Evpsychyi Afrikanovich! You’re exaggerating the whole
affair. After all, a risk’s a risk, and gratitude’s gratitude.’
‘Ph-e-w!’ The sergeant gave a long-drawn whistle and thrust his hands
into his trouser-pockets. ‘It’s gratitude, is it? Do you think I’m
going to stake my official position for three pounds? No, you’ve got a
wrong idea of me.’
‘But what are you getting warm about, Evpsychyi Afrikanovich? The
amount isn’t the point, just simply--well, let’s say, for humanity’s
sake----’
‘For hu-man-i-ty’s sake?’ He hammered out each syllable. ‘I’m full up
to here with your humanity!’ He tapped vigorously on the bronzed nape
of his mighty neck which hung down over his collar in a fat, hairless
fold.
‘That’s a bit too strong, Evpsychyi Afrikanovich.’
‘Not a bit too strong! “They’re the plague of the place,” as Mr.
Krylov, the famous fable-writer, said. That’s what these two ladies
are. You don’t happen to have read that splendid work, by His
Excellency Count Urussov, called _The Police Sergeant_?’
‘No, I haven’t.’
‘Well, you ought to have. A brilliant work, highly moral. I would
advise you to make its acquaintance when you have the time----’
‘Right, I’ll do so with pleasure. But still I don’t see what this
book’s got to do with these two poor women.’
‘What’s it got to do with them? A great deal. Firstly’ (Evpsychyi
Afrikanovich ticked off the fat hairy forefinger of his left hand):
‘“It is the duty of a police sergeant to take the greatest care that
all the people go to the Church of God, without, however, compelling
them by force to remain there....” I ask you, does she go--what’s her
name; Manuilikha, isn’t it?... Does she ever go to church?’
I was silent, surprised by the unexpected turn of his speech. He gave
me a look of triumph, and ticked off his second finger. ‘Secondly:
“False prophecies and prognostications are everywhere forbidden....”
Do you notice that? Then, thirdly: “It is illegal to profess to be a
sorcerer or a magician, or to employ similar deceptions.” What do you
say to that? And suppose all this becomes known, or gets round to the
authorities by some back way, who has to pay for it? I do. Who gets
sacked from the service? I do. Now you see what a business it is.’
He sat down in his chair again. His raised eyes wandered absently over
the walls of the room and his fingers drummed loudly on the table.
‘Well, what if I ask you, Evpsychyi Afrikanovich,’ I began once more
in a gentle voice. ‘Of course I know your duties are complicated and
troublesome, but you’ve got a heart, I know, a heart of gold. What will
it cost you to promise me not to touch these women?’
The sergeant’s eyes suddenly stopped, over my head.
‘That’s a nice little gun you’ve got,’ he said carelessly, still
drumming his fingers. ‘A splendid little gun. Last time I came to see
you and you were out, I admired it all the while. A splendid gun!’
‘Yes, it’s not a bad gun,’ I agreed. ‘It’s an old pattern, made by
Gastin-Rennet; but last year I had it converted into a hammerless. You
just look at the barrels.’
‘Yes, yes ... it was the barrels I admired most.... A magnificent piece
of work. I’d call it a perfect treasure.’
Our eyes met, and I saw the trace of a meaning smile flickering in the
corner of the sergeant’s lips. I rose from my seat, took the gun off
the wall and approached Evpsychyi Afrikanovich with it.
‘The Circassians have an admirable custom,’ I said courteously, ‘of
presenting a guest with anything that he praises. Though we are not
Circassians, Evpsychyi Afrikanovich, I entreat you to accept this from
me as a memento.’
For appearance’ sake the sergeant blushed.
‘My goodness, what a beauty! No, no.... That custom is far too
generous.’
However, I did not have to entreat him long. The sergeant accepted the
gun, carefully put it between his knees and with a clean handkerchief
lovingly wiped away the dust that had settled on the lock; and I was
rather mollified when I saw that the gun had at least passed into the
hands of an expert and an _amateur_. Almost immediately Evpsychyi
Afrikanovich got up and began to hurry away.
‘Business won’t wait, and here I’ve been gossiping with you,’ he said,
noisily banging on the floor with his reluctant goloshes. ‘When you
happen to come our way, you’ll be most welcome.’
‘Well, what about Manuilikha, my dear Authority?’ I reminded him
delicately.
‘We’ll see, we’ll see, ...’ Evpsychyi Afrikanovich vaguely muttered.
‘There was something else I wanted to ask you.... Your radishes are
magnificent....’
‘I grew them myself.’
‘Mag-nificent radishes! You know, my wife is terribly partial to
garden-stuff. So, you know, one little bundle....’
‘With the greatest pleasure, Evpsychyi Afrikanovich. I consider it an
obligation.... This very day I’ll send a basket by messenger. Let me
send some butter as well.... My butter’s quite a special thing.’
‘Well, butter too, ...’ the sergeant graciously permitted. ‘And you can
tip those women the wink that I shan’t touch them for the time being.
But you’d better let them know’--he raised his voice suddenly--‘that
they can’t settle _me_ with a “Thank you.” ... Now, I wish you
good-bye. Once more, _merci_ for the present and the entertainment.’
He clicked his heels together like a soldier, and walked to his
carriage with the ponderous gait of a full-fed, important person. By
his carriage were already gathered the village policeman, the mayor and
Yarmola, in respectful attitudes, with their heads bare.