The Captain and the head of the village rode away, and Olénin, to
please Lukáshka as well as to avoid going back alone through the dark
forest, asked the corporal to give Lukáshka leave, and the corporal did
so. Olénin thought that Lukáshka wanted to see Maryánka and he was also
glad of the companionship of such a pleasant-looking and sociable
Cossack. Lukáshka and Maryánka he involuntarily united in his mind, and
he found pleasure in thinking about them. “He loves Maryánka,” thought
Olénin, “and I could love her,” and a new and powerful emotion of
tenderness overcame him as they walked homewards together through the
dark forest. Lukáshka too felt happy; something akin to love made
itself felt between these two very different young men. Every time they
glanced at one another they wanted to laugh.
“By which gate do you enter?” asked Olénin.
“By the middle one. But I’ll see you as far as the marsh. After that
you have nothing to fear.”
Olénin laughed.
“Do you think I am afraid? Go back, and thank you. I can get on alone.”
“It’s all right! What have I to do? And how can you help being afraid?
Even we are afraid,” said Lukáshka to set Olénin’s self-esteem at rest,
and he laughed too.
“Then come in with me. We’ll have a talk and a drink and in the morning
you can go back.”
“Couldn’t I find a place to spend the night?” laughed Lukáshka. “But
the corporal asked me to go back.”
“I heard you singing last night, and also saw you.”
“Every one...” and Luke swayed his head.
“Is it true you are getting married?” asked Olénin.
“Mother wants me to marry. But I have not got a horse yet.”
“Aren’t you in the regular service?”
“Oh dear no! I’ve only just joined, and have not got a horse yet, and
don’t know how to get one. That’s why the marriage does not come off.”
“And what would a horse cost?”
“We were bargaining for one beyond the river the other day and they
would not take sixty rubles for it, though it is a Nogáy horse.”
“Will you come and be my drabánt?” (A drabánt was a kind of orderly
attached to an officer when campaigning.) “I’ll get it arranged and
will give you a horse,” said Olénin suddenly. “Really now, I have two
and I don’t want both.”
“How—don’t want it?” Lukáshka said, laughing. “Why should you make me a
present? We’ll get on by ourselves by God’s help.”
“No, really! Or don’t you want to be a drabánt?” said Olénin, glad that
it had entered his head to give a horse to Lukáshka, though, without
knowing why, he felt uncomfortable and confused and did not know what
to say when he tried to speak.
Lukáshka was the first to break the silence.
“Have you a house of your own in Russia?” he asked.
Olénin could not refrain from replying that he had not only one, but
several houses.
“A good house? Bigger than ours?” asked Lukáshka good-naturedly.
“Much bigger; ten times as big and three storeys high,” replied Olénin.
“And have you horses such as ours?”
“I have a hundred horses, worth three or four hundred rubles each, but
they are not like yours. They are trotters, you know.... But still, I
like the horses here best.”
“Well, and did you come here of your own free will, or were you sent?”
said Lukáshka, laughing at him. “Look! that’s where you lost your way,”
he added, “you should have turned to the right.”
“I came by my own wish,” replied Olénin. “I wanted to see your parts
and to join some expeditions.”
“I would go on an expedition any day,” said Lukáshka. “D’you hear the
jackals howling?” he added, listening.
“I say, don’t you feel any horror at having killed a man?” asked
Olénin.
“What’s there to be frightened about? But I should like to join an
expedition,” Lukáshka repeated. “How I want to! How I want to!”
“Perhaps we may be going together. Our company is going before the
holidays, and your ‘hundred’ too.”
“And what did you want to come here for? You’ve a house and horses and
serfs. In your place I’d do nothing but make merry! And what is your
rank?”
“I am a cadet, but have been recommended for a commission.”
“Well, if you’re not bragging about your home, if I were you I’d never
have left it! Yes, I’d never have gone away anywhere. Do you find it
pleasant living among us?”
“Yes, very pleasant,” answered Olénin.
It had grown quite dark before, talking in this way, they approached
the village. They were still surrounded by the deep gloom of the
forest. The wind howled through the tree-tops. The jackals suddenly
seemed to be crying close beside them, howling, chuckling, and sobbing;
but ahead of them in the village the sounds of women’s voices and the
barking of dogs could already be heard; the outlines of the huts were
clearly to be seen; lights gleamed and the air was filled with the
peculiar smell of _kisyak_ smoke. Olénin felt keenly, that night
especially, that here in this village was his home, his family, all his
happiness, and that he never had and never would live so happily
anywhere as he did in this Cossack village. He was so fond of everybody
and especially of Lukáshka that night. On reaching home, to Lukáshka’s
great surprise, Olénin with his own hands led out of the shed a horse
he had bought in Gróznoe—it was not the one he usually rode but
another—not a bad horse though no longer young, and gave it to
Lukáshka.
“Why should you give me a present?” said Lukáshka, “I have not yet done
anything for you.”
“Really it is nothing,” answered Olénin. “Take it, and you will give me
a present, and we’ll go on an expedition against the enemy together.”
Lukáshka became confused.
“But what d’you mean by it? As if a horse were of little value,” he
said without looking at the horse.
“Take it, take it! If you don’t you will offend me. Vanyúsha! Take the
grey horse to his house.”
Lukáshka took hold of the halter.
“Well then, thank you! This is something unexpected, undreamt of.”
Olénin was as happy as a boy of twelve.
“Tie it up here. It’s a good horse. I bought it in Gróznoe; it gallops
splendidly! Vanyúsha, bring us some _chikhir_. Come into the hut.”
The wine was brought. Lukáshka sat down and took the wine-bowl.
“God willing I’ll find a way to repay you,” he said, finishing his
wine. “How are you called?”
“Dmítri Andréich.”
“Well, ’Mitry Andréich, God bless you. We will be _kunaks_. Now you
must come to see us. Though we are not rich people still we can treat a
_kunak_, and I will tell mother in case you need anything—clotted cream
or grapes—and if you come to the cordon I’m your servant to go hunting
or to go across the river, anywhere you like! There now, only the other
day, what a boar I killed, and I divided it among the Cossacks, but if
I had only known, I’d have given it to you.”
“That’s all right, thank you! But don’t harness the horse, it has never
been in harness.”
“Why harness the horse? And there is something else I’ll tell you if
you like,” said Lukáshka, bending his head. “I have a _kunak_, Giréy
Khan. He asked me to lie in ambush by the road where they come down
from the mountains. Shall we go together? I’ll not betray you. I’ll be
your _murid_.”
“Yes, we’ll go; we’ll go some day.”
Lukáshka seemed quite to have quieted down and to have understood
Olénin’s attitude towards him. His calmness and the ease of his
behaviour surprised Olénin, and he did not even quite like it. They
talked long, and it was late when Lukáshka, not tipsy (he never was
tipsy) but having drunk a good deal, left Olénin after shaking hands.
Olénin looked out of the window to see what he would do. Lukáshka went
out, hanging his head. Then, having led the horse out of the gate, he
suddenly shook his head, threw the reins of the halter over its head,
sprang onto its back like a cat, gave a wild shout, and galloped down
the street. Olénin expected that Lukáshka would go to share his joy
with Maryánka, but though he did not do so Olénin still felt his soul
more at ease than ever before in his life. He was as delighted as a
boy, and could not refrain from telling Vanyúsha not only that he had
given Lukáshka the horse, but also why he had done it, as well as his
new theory of happiness.
Vanyúsha did not approve of his theory, and announced that “_l’argent
il n’y a pas!_” and that therefore it was all nonsense.
Lukáshka rode home, jumped off the horse, and handed it over to his
mother, telling her to let it out with the communal Cossack herd. He
himself had to return to the cordon that same night. His deaf sister
undertook to take the horse, and explained by signs that when she saw
the man who had given the horse, she would bow down at his feet. The
old woman only shook her head at her son’s story, and decided in her
own mind that he had stolen it. She therefore told the deaf girl to
take it to the herd before daybreak.
Lukáshka went back alone to the cordon pondering over Olénin’s action.
Though he did not consider the horse a good one, yet it was worth at
least forty rubles and Lukáshka was very glad to have the present. But
why it had been given him he could not at all understand, and therefore
he did not experience the least feeling of gratitude. On the contrary,
vague suspicions that the cadet had some evil intentions filled his
mind. What those intentions were he could not decide, but neither could
he admit the idea that a stranger would give him a horse worth forty
rubles for nothing, just out of kindness; it seemed impossible. Had he
been drunk one might understand it! He might have wished to show off.
But the cadet had been sober, and therefore must have wished to bribe
him to do something wrong. “Eh, humbug!” thought Lukáshka. “Haven’t I
got the horse and we’ll see later on. I’m not a fool myself and we
shall see who’ll get the better of the other,” he thought, feeling the
necessity of being on his guard, and therefore arousing in himself
unfriendly feelings towards Olénin. He told no one how he had got the
horse. To some he said he had bought it, to others he replied
evasively. However, the truth soon got about in the village, and
Lukáshka’s mother and Maryánka, as well as Elias Vasílich and other
Cossacks, when they heard of Olénin’s unnecessary gift, were perplexed,
and began to be on their guard against the cadet. But despite their
fears his action aroused in them a great respect for his simplicity and
wealth.
“Have you heard,” said one, “that the cadet quartered on Elias Vasílich
has thrown a fifty-ruble horse at Lukáshka? He’s rich! ...”
“Yes, I heard of it,” replied another profoundly, “he must have done
him some great service. We shall see what will come of this cadet. Eh!
what luck that Snatcher has!”
“Those cadets are crafty, awfully crafty,” said a third. “See if he
don’t go setting fire to a building, or doing something!”