This conversation, which lasted for an hour longer, apparently made
a great impression on Andréi Yéfimitch. He took to visiting the ward
every day. He went there in the morning, and again after dinner, and
often darkness found him in conversation with Iván Dmítritch. At first
Iván Dmítritch was shy with him, suspected him of some evil intention,
and openly expressed his suspicions. But at last he got used to him;
and his rude bearing softened into indulgent irony.
A report soon spread through the hospital that Doctor Andréi Yéfimitch
paid daily visits to Ward No. 6. Neither the feldscher, nor Nikita, nor
the nurses could understand his object; why he spent whole hours in the
ward, what he was talking about, or why he did not write prescriptions.
His conduct appeared strange to everyone. Mikhail Averyanitch sometimes
failed to find him at home, and Dáryushka was very alarmed, for the
doctor no longer drank his beer at the usual hour, and sometimes even
came home late for dinner.
One day--it was at the end of June--Doctor Khobótoff went to Andréi
Yéfimitch's house to sec him on a business matter. Not finding him at
home, he looked for him in the yard, where he was told that the old
doctor was in the asylum. Khobótoff entered the hall of the ward, and
standing there listened to the following conversation:
"We will never agree, and you will never succeed in converting me
to your faith," said Iván Dmítritch irritably. "You are altogether
ignorant of realities, you have never suffered, but only, like a leech,
fed on the sufferings of others. But I have suffered without cease from
the day of my birth until now. Therefore I tell you frankly I consider
myself much higher than you, and more competent in all respects. It is
not for you to teach me."
"I certainly have no wish to convert you to my faith," said Andréi
Yéfimitch softly, and evidently with regret that he was misunderstood.
"That is not the question, my friend. Suffering and joy are
transitory--leave them, God be with them! The essence of the matter
is that you and I recognise in one another men of thought, and this
makes us solid however different our views. If you knew, my friend,
how I am weary of the general idiocy around me, the lack of talent,
the dullness--if you knew the joy with which I speak to you! You are a
clever man, and it is a pleasure to be with you."
Khobótoff opened the door and looked into the room. Iván Dmítritch with
a nightcap on his head and Doctor Andréi Yéfimitch sat side by side on
the bed. The lunatic shuddered, made strange faces, and convulsively
clutched his dressing-gown; and the doctor sat motionless, inclining
his head, and his face was red and helpless and sad. Khobótoff shrugged
his shoulders, laughed, and looked at Nikita. Nikita also shrugged his
shoulders.
Next day Khobótoff again came to the wing, this time together with the
feldscher. They stood in the hall and listened:
"Our grandfather, it seems, is quite gone," said Khobótoff going out of
the wing.
"Lord, have mercy upon us--sinners!" sighed the pompous Sergéi
Sergéyitch, going round the pools in order to keep his shiny boots
clear of the mud. "I confess, my dear Yevgéniï Feódoritch, I have long
expected this."