All things are relative in this world, and a man cannot sink into any
condition so bad that it could not be worse. One day, towards the end
of September, Captain Aristid Kuvalda was sitting, as was his custom,
on the bench near the door of the dosshouse, looking at the stone
building built by the merchant Petunikoff close to Vaviloff's
eatinghouse, and thinking deeply. This building, which was partly
surrounded by woods, served the purpose of a candle factory.
Painted red, as if with blood, it looked like a cruel machine which,
though not working, opened a row of deep, hungry, gaping jaws, as if
ready to devour and swallow anything. The grey wooden eating-house of
Vaviloff, with its bent roof covered with patches, leaned against one
of the brick walls of the factory, and seemed as if it were some large
form of parasite clinging to it. The Captain was thinking that they
would very soon be making new houses to replace the old building.
"They will destroy the dosshouse even," he reflected. "It will be
necessary to look out for another, but such a cheap one is not to be
found. It seems a great pity to have to leave a place to which one is
accustomed, though it will be necessary to go, simply because some
merchant or other thinks of manufacturing candles and soap." And the
Captain felt that if he could only make the life of such an enemy
miserable, even temporarily, oh! with what pleasure he would do it!
Yesterday, Ivan Andreyevitch Petunikoff was in the dosshouse yard with
his son and an architect. They measured the yard and put small wooden
sticks in various places, which, after the exit of Petunikoff and at
the order of the Captain, Meteor took out and threw away. To the eyes
of the Captain this merchant appeared small and thin. He wore a long
garment like a frock-coat, a velvet cap, and high, well-cleaned boots.
He had a thin face with prominent cheekbones, a wedge-shaped greyish
beard, and a high forehead seamed with wrinkles from beneath which
shone two narrow, blinking, and observant grey eyes ... a sharp,
gristly nose, a small mouth with thin lips ... altogether his
appearance was pious, rapacious, and respectably wicked. "Cursed
cross-bred fox and pig!" swore the Captain under his breath, recalling
his first meeting with Petunikoff. The merchant came with one of the
town councillors to buy the house, and seeing the Captain asked his
companion:
"Is this your lodger?"
And from that day, a year and a half ago, there has been keen
competition among the inhabitants of the dosshouse as to which can
swear the hardest at the merchant. And last night there was a "slight
skirmish with hot words," as the Captain called it, between Petunikoff
and himself. Having dismissed the architect the merchant approached
the Captain.
"What are you hatching?" asked he, putting his hand to his cap, perhaps
to adjust it, perhaps as a salutation.
"What are you plotting?" answered the Captain in the same tone. He
moved his chin so that his beard trembled a little; a non-exacting
person might have taken it for a bow; otherwise it only expressed the
desire of the Captain to move his pipe from one corner of his mouth to
the other. "You see, having plenty of money, I can afford to sit
hatching it. Money is a good thing, and I possess it," the Captain
chaffed the merchant, casting cunning glances at him. "It means that
you serve money, and not money you," went on Kuvalda, desiring at the
same time to punch the merchant's belly.
"Isn't it all the same? Money makes life comfortable, but no money,"
... and the merchant looked at the Captain with a feigned expression of
suffering. The other's upper lip curled, and exposed large, wolf-like
teeth.
"With brains and a conscience, it is possible to live without it. Men
only acquire riches when they cease to listen to their conscience ...
the less conscience the more money!"
"Just so; but then there are men who have neither money nor conscience."
"Were you just like what you are now when you were young?" asked
Kuvalda simply. The other's nostrils twitched. Ivan Andreyevitch
sighed, passed his hand over his eyes and said:
"Oh! When I was young I had to undergo a great many difficulties ...
Work! Oh! I did work!"
"And you cheated, too, I suppose?"
"People like you? Nobles? I should just think so! They used to grovel
at my feet!"
"You only went in for robbing, not murder, I suppose?" asked the
Captain. Petunikoff turned pale, and hastily changed the subject.
"You are a bad host. You sit while your guest stands."
"Let him sit, too," said Kuvalda.
"But what am I to sit on?"
"On the earth ... it will take any rubbish ..."
"You are the proof of that," said Petunikoff quietly, while his eyes
shot forth poisonous glances.
And he went away, leaving Kuvalda under the pleasant impression that
the merchant was afraid of him. If he were not afraid of him he would
long ago have evicted him from the dosshouse. But then he would think
twice before turning him out, because of the five roubles a month. And
the Captain gazed with pleasure at Petunikoff's back as he slowly
retreated from the courtyard. Following him with his eyes, he noticed
how the merchant passed the factory and disappeared into the wood, and
he wished very much that he might fall and break all his bones. He sat
imagining many horrible forms of disaster while watching Petunikoff,
who was descending the hill into the wood like a spider going into its
web. Last night he even imagined that the wood gave way before the
merchant and he fell ... but afterwards he found that he had only been
dreaming.
And to-day, as always, the red building stands out before the eyes of
Aristid Kuvalda, so plain, so massive, and clinging so strongly to the
earth, that it seems to be sucking away all its life. It appears to be
laughing coldly at the Captain with its gaping walls. The sun pours
its rays on them as generously as it does on the miserable hovels of
the main street.
"Devil take the thing!" exclaimed the Captain, thoughtfully measuring
the walls of the factory with his eyes. "If only ..."
Trembling with excitement at the thought that had just entered his
mind, Aristid Kuvalda jumped up and ran to Vaviloff's eating-house,
muttering to himself all the time.
Vaviloff met him at the bar, and gave him a friendly welcome.
"I wish your honour good health!" He was of middle height, and had a
bald head, grey hair, and straight moustaches like tooth-brushes.
Upright and neat in his clean jacket, he showed by every movement that
he was an old soldier.
"Egorka, show me the lease and plan of your house," demanded Kuvalda,
impatiently.
"I have shown it you before." Vaviloff looked up suspiciously and
closely scanned the Captain's face.
"Show it me!" shouted the Captain, striking the bar with his fist and
sitting down on a stool close by.
"But why?" asked Vaviloff, knowing that it was better to keep his wits
about him when Kuvalda got excited.
"You fool! Bring it at once."
Vaviloff rubbed his forehead, and turned his eyes to the ceiling in a
tired way.
"Where are those papers of yours?"
There was no answer to this on the ceiling, so the old sergeant looked
down at the floor, and began drumming with his fingers on the bar in a
worried and thoughtful manner.
"It's no good your making wry faces!" shouted the Captain, for he had
no great affection for him, thinking that a former soldier should
rather have become a thief than an eating-house keeper.
"Oh! Yes! Aristid Fomich, I remember now. They were left at the High
Court of Justice at the time when I came into possession."
"Get along, Egorka! It is to your own interest to show me the plan,
the title-deeds, and everything you have immediately. You will
probably clear at least a hundred roubles over this, do you understand?"
Vaviloff did not understand at all; but the Captain spoke in such a
serious and convincing tone that the sergeant's eyes burned with
curiosity, and, telling him that he would see if the papers were in his
desk, he went through the door behind the bar. Two minutes later he
returned with the papers in his hand, and an expression of extreme
astonishment on his face.
"Here they are; the deeds about the damned houses!"
"Ah! You ... vagabond! And you pretend to have been a soldier, too!"
And Kuvalda did not cease to belabour him with his tongue, as he
snatched the blue parchment from his hands. Then, spreading the papers
out in front of him, and excited all the more by Vaviloff's
inquisitiveness, the Captain began reading and bellowing at the same
time. At last he got up resolutely, and went to the door, leaving all
the papers on the bar, and saying to Vaviloff:
"Wait! Don't lift them!"
Vaviloff gathered them up, put them into the cash-box, and locked it,
then felt the lock with his hand, to see if it were secure. After that,
he scratched his bald head, thoughtfully, and went up on the roof of
the eating-house. There he saw the Captain measuring the front of the
house, and watched him anxiously, as he snapped his fingers, and began
measuring the same line over again. Vaviloff's face lit up suddenly,
and he smiled happily.
"Aristid Fomich, is it possible?" he shouted, when the Captain came
opposite to him.
"Of course it is possible. There is more than one short in the front
alone, and as to the depth I shall see immediately."
"The depth ... seventy-three feet."
"What? Have you guessed, you shaved ugly face?"
"Of course, Aristid Fomich! If you have eyes you can see a thing or
two," shouted Vaviloff, joyfully.
A few minutes afterwards they sat side by side in Vaviloff's parlour,
and the Captain was engaged in drinking large quantities of beer.
"And so all the walls of the factory stand on your ground," said he to
the eating-house keeper. "Now, mind you show no mercy! The teacher
will be here presently, and we will get him to draw up a petition to
the court. As to the amount of the damages you will name a very
moderate sum in order not to waste money in deed stamps, but we will
ask to have the factory knocked down. This, you see, donkey, is the
result of trespassing on other people's property. It is a splendid
piece of luck for you. We will force him to have the place smashed, and
I can tell you it will be an expensive job for him. Off with you to
the court. Bring pressure to bear on Judas. We will calculate how
much it will take to break the factory down to its very foundations.
We will make an estimate of it all, counting the time it will take too,
and we will make honest Judas pay two thousand roubles besides."
"He will never give it!" cried Vaviloff, but his eyes shone with a
greedy light.
"You lie! He will give it ... Use your brains... What else can he do?
But look here, Egorka, mind you don't go in for doing it on the cheap.
They are sure to try to buy you off. Don't sell yourself cheap. They
will probably use threats, but rely upon us..."
The Captain's eyes were alight with happiness, and his face red with
excitement. He worked upon Vaviloff's greed, and urging upon him the
importance of immediate action in the matter, went away in a very
joyful and happy frame of mind.
* * * * *
In the evening everyone was told of the Captain's discovery, and they
all began to discuss Petunikoff's future predicament, painting in vivid
colours his excitement and astonishment on the day the court messenger
handed him the copy of the summons. The Captain felt himself quite a
hero. He was happy and all his friends highly pleased. The heap of
dark and tattered figures that lay in the courtyard made noisy
demonstrations of pleasure. They all knew the merchant, Petunikoff, who
passed them very often, contemptuously turning up his eyes and giving
them no more attention than he bestowed on the other heaps of rubbish
lying on the ground. He was well fed, and that exasperated them still
more; and now how splendid it was that one of themselves had struck a
hard blow at the selfish merchant's purse! It gave them all the
greatest pleasure. The Captain's discovery was a powerful instrument
in their hands. Every one of them felt keen animosity towards all
those who were well fed and well dressed, but in some of them this
feeling was only beginning to develop. Burning interest was felt by
those "creatures that once were men" in the prospective fight between
Kuvalda and Petunikoff, which they already saw in imagination.
For a fortnight the inhabitants of the dosshouse awaited the further
development of events, but Petunikoff never once visited the building.
It was known that he was not in town and that the copy of the petition
had not yet been handed to him. Kuvalda raged at the delays of the
civil court. It is improbable that anyone had ever awaited the
merchant with such impatience as did this bare-footed brigade.
"He isn't even thinking of coming, the wretch! ..."
"That means that he does not love me!" sang Deacon Taras, leaning his
chin on his hand and casting a humorous glance towards the mountain.
At last Petunikoff appeared. He came in a respectable cart with his
son playing the role of groom. The latter was a red-checked,
nice-looking youngster, in a long square-cut overcoat. He wore smoked
eyeglasses. They tied the horse to an adjoining tree, the son took the
measuring instrument out of his pocket and gave it to his father, and
they began to measure the ground. Both were silent and worried.
"Aha!" shouted the Captain, gleefully.
All those who were in the dosshouse at the moment came out to look at
them and expressed themselves loudly and freely in reference to the
matter.
"What does the habit of thieving mean? A man may sometimes make a big
mistake when he steals, standing to lose more than he gets," said the
Captain, causing much laughter among his staff and eliciting various
murmurs of assent.
"Take care, you devil!" shouted Petunikoff, "lest I have you in the
police court for your words!"
"You can do nothing to me without witnesses ... Your son cannot give
evidence on your side" ... the Captain warned him.
"Look out all the same, you old wretch, you may be found guilty too!"
And Petunikoff shook his fist at him. His son, deeply engrossed in his
calculations, took no notice of the dark group of men, who were taking
such a wicked delight in adding to his father's discomfiture. He did
not even once look in their direction.
"The young spider has himself well in hand," remarked Abyedok, watching
young Petunikoff's every movement and action. Having taken all the
measurements he desired, Ivan Andreyevitch knit his brows, got into the
cart, and drove away. His son went with a firm step into Vaviloff's
eating-house, and disappeared behind the door.
"Ho, ho! That's a determined young thief! ... What will happen next,
I wonder ...?" asked Kuvalda.
"Next? Young Petunikoff will buy out Egor Vaviloff," said Abyedok with
conviction, and smacked his lips as if the idea gave him great pleasure.
"And you are glad of that?" Kuvalda asked him, gravely.
"I am always pleased to see human calculations miscarry," explained
Abyedok, rolling his eyes and rubbing his hands with delight. The
Captain spat angrily on the ground and was silent. They all stood in
front of the tumble-down building, and silently watched the doors of
the eating-house. More than an hour passed thus. Then the doors
opened and Petunikoff came out as silently as he had entered. He
stopped for a moment, coughed, turned up the collar of his coat,
glanced at the men, who were following all his movements with their
eyes, and then went up the street towards the town.
The Captain watched him for a moment, and turning to Abyedok said,
smilingly:
"Probably you were right after all, you son of a scorpion and a
wood-louse! You nose out every evil thing. Yes, the face of that
young swindler shows that he has got what he wanted... I wonder how
much Egorka has got out of them. He has evidently taken something...
He is just the same sort of rogue that they are ... they are all tarred
with the same brush. He has got some money, and I'm damned if I did
not arrange the whole thing for him! It is best to own my folly...
Yes, life is against us all, brothers ... and even when you spit upon
those nearest to you, the spittle rebounds and hits your own face."
Having satisfied himself with this reflection, the worthy Captain
looked round upon his staff. Every one of them was disappointed,
because they all knew that something they did not expect had taken
place between Petunikoff and Vaviloff, and they all felt that they had
been insulted. The feeling that one is unable to injure anyone is
worse than the feeling that one is unable to do good, because to do
harm is far easier and simpler.
"Well, why are we loitering here? We have nothing more to wait for ...
except the reward that I shall get out--out of Egorka,..." said the
Captain, looking angrily at the eating-house. "So our peaceful life
under the roof of Judas has come to an end. Judas will now turn us
out.... So do not say that I have not warned you."
Kanets smiled sadly.
"What are you laughing at, jailer?" Kuvalda asked.
"Where shall I go then?"
"That, my soul, is a question that fate will settle for you, so do not
worry," said the Captain, thoughtfully, entering the dosshouse. "The
creatures that once were men" followed him.
"We can do nothing but await the critical moment," said the Captain,
walking about among them. "When they turn us out we shall seek a new
place for ourselves, but at present there is no use spoiling our life
by thinking of it ... In times of crisis one becomes energetic ... and
if life were fuller of them and every moment of it so arranged that we
were compelled to tremble for our lives all the time ... By God! life
would be livelier and even fuller of interest and energy than it is!"
"That means that people would all go about cutting one another's
throats," explained Abyedok, smilingly.
"Well, what about it?" asked the Captain, angrily. He did not like to
hear his thoughts illustrated.
"Oh! Nothing! When a person wants to get anywhere quickly he whips up
the horses, but of course it needs fire to make engines go ..."
"Well, let everything go to the Devil as quickly as possible. I'm sure
I should be pleased if the earth suddenly opened up or was burned or
destroyed somehow .. only I were left to the last in order to see the
others consumed ..."
"Ferocious creature!" smiled Abyedok.
"Well, what of that? I ... I was once a man .. now I am an outcast ...
that means I have no obligations. It means that I am free to spit on
everyone. The nature of my present life means the rejection of my past
... giving up all relations towards men who are well fed and well
dressed, and who look upon me with contempt because I am inferior to
them in the matter of feeding or dressing. I must develop something new
within myself, do you understand? Something that will make Judas
Petunikoff and his kind tremble and perspire before me!"
"Ah! You have a courageous tongue!" jeered Abyedok.
"Yes ... You miser!" And Kuvalda looked at him contemptuously. "What
do you understand? What do you know? Are you able to think? But I
have thought and I have read ... books of which you could not have
understood one word."
"Of course! One cannot eat soup out of one's hand ... But though you
have read and thought, and I have not done that or anything else, we
both seem to have got into pretty much the same condition, don't we?"
"Go to the Devil!" shouted Kuvalda. His conversations with Abyedok
always ended thus. When the teacher was absent his speeches, as a
rule, fell on the empty air, and received no attention, and he knew
this, but still he could not help speaking. And now, having quarrelled
with his companion, he felt rather deserted; but, still longing for
conversation, he turned to Simtsoff with the following question: "And
you, Aleksei Maksimovitch, where will you lay your grey head?"
The old man smiled good-humouredly, rubbed his hands, and replied, "I
do not know ... I will see. One does not require much, just a little
drink."
"Plain but honourable fare!" the Captain said. Simtsoff was silent,
only adding that he would find a place sooner than any of them, because
women loved him. This was true. The old man had, as a rule, two or
three prostitutes, who kept him on their very scant earnings. They
very often beat him, but he took this stoically. They somehow never
beat him too much, probably because they pitied him. He was a great
lover of women, and said they were the cause of all his misfortunes.
The character of his relations towards them was confirmed by the
appearance of his clothes, which, as a rule, were tidy, and cleaner
than those of his companions. And now, sitting at the door of the
dosshouse, he boastingly related that for a long time past Redka had
been asking him to go and live with her, but he had not gone because he
did not want to part with the company. They heard this with jealous
interest. They all knew Redka. She lived very near the town, almost
below the mountain. Not long ago, she had been in prison for theft.
She was a retired nurse; a tall, stout peasant woman, with a face
marked by smallpox, but with very pretty, though always drunken, eyes.
"Just look at the old devil!" swore Abyedok, looking at Simtsoff, who
was smiling in a self-satisfied way.
"And do you know why they love me? Because I know how to cheer up
their souls."
"Do you?" inquired Kuvalda.
"And I can make them pity me.... And a woman, when she pities! Go and
weep to her, and ask her to kill you ... she will pity you--and she
will kill you."
"I feel inclined to commit a murder," declared Martyanoff, laughing his
dull laugh.
"Upon whom?" asked Abyedok, edging away from him.
"It's all the same to me ... Petunikoff ... Egorka ... or even you!"
"And why?" inquired Kuvalda.
"I want to go to Siberia ... I have had enough of this vile life ...
one learns how to live there!"
"Yes, they have a particularly good way of teaching in Siberia," agreed
the Captain, sadly.
They spoke no more of Petunikoff, or of the turning out of the
inhabitants of the dosshouse. They all knew that they would have to
leave soon, therefore they did not think the matter worth discussion.
It would do no good, and besides the weather was not very cold though
the rains had begun ... and it would be possible to sleep on the ground
anywhere outside the town. They sat in a circle on the grass and
conversed about all sorts of things, discussing one subject after
another, and listening attentively even to the poor speakers in order
to make the time pass; keeping quiet was as dull as listening. This
society of "creatures that once were men" had one fine
characteristic--no one of them endeavoured to make out that he was
better than the others, nor compelled the others to acknowledge his
superiority.
The August sun seemed to set their tatters on fire as they sat with
their backs and uncovered heads exposed to it ... a chaotic mixture of
the vegetable, mineral, and animal kingdoms. In the corners of the yard
the tall steppe grass grew luxuriantly.... Nothing else grew there but
some dingy vegetables, not even attractive to those who nearly always
felt the pangs of hunger.
* * * * *
The following was the scene that took place in Vaviloff's eating-house.
Young Petunikoff entered slowly, took off his hat, looked around him,
and said to the eating-house keeper:
"Egor Terentievitch Vaviloff? Are you he?"
"I am," answered the sergeant, leaning on the bar with both arms as if
intending to jump over it.
"I have some business with you," said Petunikoff.
"Delighted. Please come this way to my private room."
They went in and sat down, the guest on the couch and his host on the
chair opposite to him. In one corner a lamp was burning before a
gigantic icon, and on the wall at the other side there were several oil
lamps. They were well kept and shone as if they were new. The room,
which contained a number of boxes and a variety of furniture, smelt of
tobacco, sour cabbage, and olive oil. Petunikoff looked around him and
made a face. Vaviloff looked at the icon, and then they looked
simultaneously at one another, and both seemed to be favourably
impressed. Petunikoff liked Vaviloff's frankly thievish eyes, and
Vaviloff was pleased with the open, cold, determined face of
Petunikoff, with its large cheeks and white teeth.
"Of course you already know me, and I presume you guess what I am going
to say to you," began Petunikoff.
"About the lawsuit? ... I presume?" remarked the ex-sergeant,
respectfully.
"Exactly! I am glad to see that you are not beating about the bush,
but going straight to the point like a business man," said Petunikoff,
encouragingly.
"I am a soldier," answered Vaviloff, with a modest air.
"That is easily seen, and I am sure we shall be able to finish this job
without much trouble."
"Just so."
"Good! You have the law on your side, and will, of course, win your
case. I want to tell you this at the very beginning."
"I thank you most humbly," said the sergeant, rubbing his eyes in order
to hide the smile in them.
"But tell me, why did you make the acquaintance of your future
neighbours like this through the law courts?"
Vaviloff shrugged his shoulders and did not answer.
"It would have been better to come straight to us and settle the matter
peacefully, eh? What do you think?"
"That would have been better, of course, but you see there is a
difficulty ... I did not follow my own wishes, but those of others ...
I learned afterwards that it would have been better if ... but it was
too late."
"Oh! I suppose some lawyer taught you this?"
"Someone of that sort."
"Aha! Do you wish to settle the affair peacefully?"
"With all my heart!" cried the soldier.
Petunikoff was silent for a moment, then looked at him, and suddenly
asked, coldly and drily, "And why do you wish to do so?"
Vaviloff did not expect such a question, and therefore had no reply
ready. In his opinion the question was quite unworthy of any
attention, and so he laughed at young Petunikoff.
"That is easy to understand. Men like to live peacefully with one
another."
"But," interrupted Petunikoff, "that is not exactly the reason why. As
far as I can see, you do not distinctly understand why you wish to be
reconciled to us ... I will tell you."
The soldier was a little surprised. This youngster, dressed in a check
suit, in which he looked ridiculous, spoke as if he were Colonel
Rakshin, who used to knock three of the unfortunate soldier's teeth out
every time he was angry.
"You want to be friends with us because we should be such useful
neighbours to you ... because there will be not less than a hundred and
fifty workmen in our factory, and in course of time even more. If a
hundred men come and drink one glass at your place, after receiving
their weekly wages, that means that you will sell every month four
hundred glasses more than you sell at present. This is, of course, the
lowest estimate ... and then you have the eating-house besides. You
are not a fool, and you can understand for yourself what profitable
neighbours we shall be."
"That is true," Vaviloff nodded, "I knew that before."
"Well, what then?" asked the merchant, loudly.
"Nothing ... Let us be friends!"
"It is nice to see that you have decided so quickly. Look here, I have
already prepared a notification to the court of the withdrawal of the
summons against my father. Here it is; read it, and sign it."
Vaviloff looked at his companion with his round eyes and shivered, as
if experiencing an unpleasant sensation.
"Pardon me ... sign it? And why?"
"There is no difficulty about it ... write your Christian name and
surname and nothing more," explained Petunikoff, pointing obligingly
with his finger to the place for the signature.
"Oh! It is not that ... I was alluding to the compensation I was to
get for my ground."
"But then this ground is of no use to you," said Petunikoff, calmly.
"But it is mine!" exclaimed the soldier.
"Of course, and how much do you want for it?"
"Well, say the amount stated in the document," said Vaviloff, boldly.
"Six hundred!" and Petunikoff smiled softly. "You are a funny fellow!"
"The law is on my side... I can even demand two thousand. I can
insist on your pulling down the building ... and enforce it too. That
is why my claim is so small. I demand that you should pull it down!"
"Very well. Probably we shall do so ... after three years, and after
having dragged you into enormous law expenses. And then, having paid
up, we shall open our public-house and you will be ruined ...
annihilated like the Swedes at Poltava. We shall see that you are
ruined ... we will take good care of that. We could have begun to
arrange about a public-house now, but you see our time is valuable, and
besides we are sorry for you. Why should we take the bread out of your
mouth without any reason?"
Egor Terentievitch looked at his guest, clenching his teeth, and felt
that he was master of the situation, and held his fate in his hands.
Vaviloff was full of pity for himself at having to deal with this calm,
cruel figure in the checked suit.
"And being such a near neighbour you might have gained a good deal by
helping us, and we should have remembered it too. Even now, for
instance, I should advise you to open a small shop for tobacco, you
know, bread, cucumbers, and so on... All these are sure to be in great
demand."
Vaviloff listened, and being a clever man, knew that to throw himself
upon the enemy's generosity was the better plan. It was as well to
begin from the beginning, and, not knowing what else to do to relieve
his mind, the soldier began to swear at Kuvalda.
"Curses be upon your head, you drunken rascal! May the Devil take you!"
"Do you mean the lawyer who composed your petition?" asked Petunikoff,
calmly, and added, with a sigh, "I have no doubt he would have landed
you in rather an awkward fix ... had we not taken pity upon you."
"Ah!" And the angry soldier raised his hand. "There are two of them
... One of them discovered it, the other wrote the petition, the
accursed reporter!"
"Why the reporter?"
"He writes for the papers ... He is one of your lodgers ... there they
all are outside ... Clear them away, for Christ's sake! The robbers!
They disturb and annoy everyone in the street. One cannot live for
them ... And they are all desperate fellows ... You had better take
care, or else they will rob or burn you ..."
"And this reporter, who is he?" asked Petunikoff, with interest.
"He? A drunkard. He was a teacher but was dismissed. He drank
everything he possessed ... and now he writes for the papers and
composes petitions. He is a very wicked man!"
"H'm! And did he write your petition, too? I suppose it was he who
discovered the flaws in the building. The beams were not rightly put
in?"
"He did! I know it for a fact! The dog! He read it aloud in here and
boasted, 'Now I have caused Petunikoff some loss!'"
"Ye--es... Well, then, do you want to be reconciled?"
"To be reconciled?" The soldier lowered his head and thought. "Ah!
This is a hard life!" said he, in a querulous voice, scratching his
head.
"One must learn by experience," Petunikoff reassured him, lighting a
cigarette.
"Learn ... It is not that, my dear sir; but don't you see there is no
freedom? Don't you see what a life I lead? I live in fear and
trembling ... I am refused the freedom so desirable to me in my
movements, and I fear this ghost of a teacher will write about me in
the papers. Sanitary inspectors will be called for ... fines will have
to be paid ... or else your lodgers will set fire to the place or rob
and kill me ... I am powerless against them. They are not the least
afraid of the police, and they like going to prison, because they get
their food for nothing there."
"But then we will have them turned out if we come to terms with you,"
promised Petunikoff.
"What shall we arrange, then?" asked Vaviloff, sadly and seriously.
"Tell me your terms."
"Well, give me the six hundred mentioned in the claim."
"Won't you take a hundred roubles?" asked the merchant, calmly, looking
attentively at his companion, and smiling softly. "I will not give you
one rouble more," ... he added.
After this, he took out his eye-glasses, and began cleaning them with
his handkerchief. Vaviloff looked at him sadly and respectfully. The
calm face of Petunikoff, his grey eyes and clear complexion, every line
of his thickset body betokened self-confidence and a well-balanced
mind. Vaviloff also liked Petunikoff's straightforward manner of
addressing him without any pretensions, as if he were his own brother,
though Vaviloff understood well enough that he was his superior, he
being only a soldier. Looking at him, he grew fonder and fonder of
him, and, forgetting for a moment the matter in hand, respectfully
asked Petunikoff:
"Where did you study?"
"In the technological institute. Why?" answered the other, smiling:
"Nothing. Only ... excuse me!" The soldier lowered his head, and then
suddenly exclaimed, "What a splendid thing education is!
Science--light. My brother, I am as stupid as an owl before the sun
... Your honour, let us finish this job."
With an air of decision he stretched out his hand to Petunikoff and
said:
"Well, five hundred?"
"Not more than one hundred roubles, Egor Terentievitch." Petunikoff
shrugged his shoulders as if sorry at being unable to give more, and
touched the soldier's hairy hand with his long white fingers. They
soon ended the matter, for the soldier gave in quickly and met
Petunikoff's wishes. And when Vaviloff had received the hundred
roubles and signed the paper, he threw the pen down on the table and
said, bitterly:
"Now I will have a nice time! They will laugh at me, they will cry
shame on me, the devils!"
"But you tell them that I paid all your claim," suggested Petunikoff,
calmly puffing out clouds of smoke and watching them float upwards.
"But do you think they will believe it? They are as clever swindlers
if not worse ..."
Vaviloff stopped himself in time before making the intended comparison,
and looked at the merchant's son in terror. The other smoked on, and
seemed to be absorbed in that occupation. He went away soon, promising
to destroy the nest of vagabonds. Vaviloff looked after him and sighed,
feeling as if he would like to shout some insult at the young man who
was going with such firm steps towards the steep road, encumbered with
its ditches and heaps of rubbish.
In the evening the Captain appeared in the eating-house. His eyebrows
were knit and his fist clenched. Vaviloff smiled at him in a guilty
manner.
"Well, worthy descendant of Judas and Cain, tell us ..."
"They decided" ... said Vaviloff, sighing and lowering his eyes.
"I don't doubt it; how many silver pieces did you receive?"
"Four hundred roubles ..."
"Of course you are lying ... But all the better for me. Without any
further words, Egorka, ten per cent. of it for my discovery, four per
cent. to the teacher for writing the petition, one 'vedro' of vodki to
all of us, and refreshments all round. Give me the money now, the
vodki and refreshments will do at eight o'clock."
Vaviloff turned purple with rage, and stared at Kuvalda with wide-open
eyes.
"This is humbug! This is robbery! I will do nothing of the sort.
What do you mean, Aristid Fomich? Keep your appetite for the next
feast! I am not afraid of you now ..."
Kuvalda looked at the clock.
"I give you ten minutes, Egorka, for your idiotic talk. Finish your
nonsense by that time and give me what I demand. If you don't I will
devour you! Kanets has sold you something? Did you read in the paper
about the theft at Basoff's house? Do you understand? You won't have
time to hide anything, we will not let you ... and this very night ...
do you understand?"
"Why, Aristid Fomich?" sobbed the discomfited merchant.
"No more words! Did you understand or not?"
Tall, grey, and imposing, Kuvalda spoke in half whispers, and his deep
bass voice rang through the house. Vaviloff always feared him because
he was not only a retired military man, but a man who had nothing to
lose. But now Kuvalda appeared before him in a new role. He did not
speak much, and jocosely as usual, but spoke in the tone of a
commander, who was convinced of the other's guilt. And Vaviloff felt
that the Captain could and would ruin him with the greatest pleasure.
He must needs bow before this power. But, nevertheless, the soldier
thought of trying him once more. He sighed deeply, and began with
apparent calmness:
"It is truly said that a man's sin will find him out ... I lied to you,
Aristid Fomich, ... I tried to be cleverer than I am ... I only
received one hundred roubles."
"Go on!" said Kuvalda.
"And not four hundred as I told you ... That means ..."
"It does not mean anything. It is all the same to me whether you lied
or not. You owe me sixty-five roubles. That is not much, eh?"
"Oh! my Lord! Aristid Fomich! I have always been attentive to your
honour and done my best to please you."
"Drop all that, Egorka, grandchild of Judas!"
"All right! I will give it you ... only God will punish you for
this...."
"Silence! You rotten pimple of the earth!" shouted the Captain,
rolling his eyes. "He has punished me enough already in forcing me to
have conversation with you.... I will kill you on the spot like a fly!"
He shook his fist in Vaviloff's face and ground his teeth till they
nearly broke.
After he had gone Vaviloff began smiling and winking to himself. Then
two large drops rolled down his cheeks. They were greyish, and they hid
themselves in his moustache, whilst two others followed them. Then
Vaviloff went into his own room and stood before the icon, stood there
without praying, immovable, with the salt tears running down his
wrinkled brown cheeks....
* * * * *
Deacon Taras, who, as a rule, loved to loiter in the woods and fields,
proposed to the "creatures that once were men" that they should go
together into the fields, and there drink Vaviloff's vodki in the bosom
of Nature. But the Captain and all the rest swore at the Deacon, and
decided to drink it in the courtyard.
"One, two, three," counted Aristid Fomich; "our full number is thirty,
the teacher is not here ... but probably many other outcasts will come.
Let us calculate, say, twenty persons, and to every person
two-and-a-half cucumbers, a pound of bread, and a pound of meat ...
That won't be bad! One bottle of vodki each, and there is plenty of
sour cabbage, and three watermelons. I ask you, what the devil could
you want more, my scoundrel friends? Now, then, let us prepare to
devour Egorka Vaviloff, because all this is his blood and body!"
They spread some old clothes on the ground, setting the delicacies and
the drink on them, and sat around the feast, solemnly and quietly, but
almost unable to control the craving for drink that shone in their eyes.
The evening began to fall, and its shadows were cast on the human
refuse of the earth in the courtyard of the dosshouse; the last rays of
the sun illumined the roof of the tumble-down building. The night was
cold and silent.
"Let us begin, brothers!" commanded the Captain. "How many cups have
we? Six ... and there are thirty of us! Aleksei Maksimovitch, pour it
out. Is it ready? Now then, the first toast... Come along!"
They drank and shouted, and began to eat.
"The teacher is not here... I have not seen him for three days. Has
anyone seen him?" asked Kuvalda.
"No one."
"It is unlike ... Let us drink to the health of Aristid Kuvalda ...
the only friend who has never deserted me for one moment of my life!
Devil take him all the same! I might have had something to wear had he
left my society at least for a little while."
"You are bitter ..." said Abyedok, and coughed.
The Captain, with his feeling of superiority to the others, never
talked with his mouth full.
Having drunk twice, the company began to grow merry; the food was
grateful to them.
Paltara Taras expressed his desire to hear a tale, but the Deacon was
arguing with Kubaroff over his preferring thin women to stout ones, and
paid no attention to his friend's request. He was asserting his views
on the subject to Kubaroff with all the decision of a man who was
deeply convinced in his own mind.
The foolish face of Meteor, who was lying on the ground, showed that he
was drinking in the Deacon's strong words.
Martyanoff sat, clasping his large hairy hands round his knees, looking
silently and sadly at the bottle of vodki and pulling his moustache as
if trying to bite it with his teeth, while Abyedok was teasing Tyapa.
"I have seen you watching the place where your money is hidden!"
"That is your luck," shouted Tyapa.
"I will go halves with you, brother."
"All right, take it and welcome."
Kuvalda felt angry with these men. Among them all there was not one
worthy of hearing his oratory or of understanding him.
"I wonder where the teacher is?" he asked loudly.