‘In accordance with my will,’ put in Harlov, who had caught the police
captain’s remark.
‘In accordance in every point,’ the latter hastened to respond
cheerfully; ‘only, as you’re aware, Martin Petrovitch, there’s no
dispensing with formality. And unnecessary details have been removed.
For the chamber can’t enter into the question of spotted cows and fancy
drakes.’
‘Come here!’ boomed Harlov to his son-in-law, who had come into the
room behind us, and remained standing with an obsequious air near the
door. He skipped up to his father-in-law at once.
‘There, take it and read! It’s hard for me. Only mind and don’t mumble
it! Let all the gentlemen present be able to understand it.’
Sletkin took the paper in both hands, and began timidly, but
distinctly, and with taste and feeling, to read the deed of partition.
There was set forth in it with the greatest accuracy just what was
assigned to Anna and what to Evlampia, and how the division was to be
made. Harlov from time to time interspersed the reading with phrases.
‘Do you hear, that’s for you, Anna, for your zeal!’ or, ‘That I give
you, Evlampia!’ and both the sisters bowed, Anna from the waist,
Evlampia simply with a motion of the head. Harlov looked at them with
stern dignity. ‘The farm house’ (the little new building) was assigned
by him to Evlampia, as the younger daughter, ‘by the well-known
custom.’ The reader’s voice quivered and resounded at these words,
unfavourable for himself; while Zhitkov licked his lips. Evlampia gave
him a sidelong glance; had I been in Zhitkov’s shoes, I should not
have liked that glance. The scornful expression, characteristic of
Evlampia, as of every genuine Russian beauty, had a peculiar shade at
that moment. For himself, Martin Petrovitch reserved the right to go
on living in the rooms he occupied, and assigned to himself, under the
name of ‘rations,’ a full allowance ‘of normal provisions,’ and ten
roubles a month for clothes. The last phrase of the deed Harlov wished
to read himself. ‘And this my parental will,’ it ran, ‘to carry out
and observe is a sacred and binding duty on my daughters, seeing it is
a command; seeing that I am, after God, their father and head, and am
not bounden to render an account to any, nor have so rendered. And do
they carry out my will, so will my fatherly blessing be with them, but
should they not so do, which God forbid, then will they be overtaken
by my paternal curse that cannot be averted, now and for ever, amen!’
Harlov raised the deed high above his head. Anna at once dropped on
her knees and touched the ground with her forehead; her husband, too,
doubled up after her. ‘Well, and you?’ Harlov turned to Evlampia. She
crimsoned all over, and she too bowed to the earth; Zhitkov bent his
whole carcase forward.
‘Sign!’ cried Harlov, pointing his forefinger to the bottom of the
deed. ‘Here: “I thank and accept, Anna. I thank and accept, Evlampia!”’
Both daughters rose, and signed one after another. Sletkin rose too,
and was feeling after the pen, but Harlov moved him aside, sticking
his middle finger into his cravat, so that he gasped. The silence
lasted a moment. Suddenly Martin Petrovitch gave a sort of sob, and
muttering, ‘Well, now it’s all yours!’ moved away. His daughters and
son-in-law looked at one another, went up to him and began kissing him
just above his elbow. His shoulder they could not reach.