XXII

In the middle of October, three weeks after my interview with Martin

Petrovitch, I was standing at the window of my own room in the

second storey of our house, and thinking of nothing at all, I looked

disconsolately into the yard and the road that lay beyond it. The

weather had been disgusting for the last five days. Shooting was not

even to be thought of. All things living had hidden themselves; even

the sparrows made no sound, and the rooks had long ago disappeared

from sight. The wind howled drearily, then whistled spasmodically.

The low-hanging sky, unbroken by one streak of light, had changed

from an unpleasant whitish to a leaden and still more sinister hue;

and the rain, which had been pouring and pouring, mercilessly and

unceasingly, had suddenly become still more violent and more driving,

and streamed with a rushing sound over the panes. The trees had been

stripped utterly bare, and turned a sort of grey. It seemed they had

nothing left to plunder; yet the wind would not be denied, but set to

harassing them once more. Puddles, clogged with dead leaves, stood

everywhere. Big bubbles, continually bursting and rising up again,

leaped and glided over them. Along the roads, the mud lay thick and

impassable. The cold pierced its way indoors through one’s clothes to

the very bones. An involuntary shiver passed over the body, and how

sick one felt at heart! Sick, precisely, not sad. It seemed there would

never again in the world be sunshine, nor brightness, nor colour, but

this rain and mire and grey damp, and raw fog would last for ever, and

for ever would the wind whine and moan! Well, I was standing moodily

at my window, and I remember a sudden darkness came on--a bluish

darkness--though the clock only pointed to twelve. Suddenly I fancied

I saw a bear dash across our yard from the gates to the steps! Not on

all-fours, certainly, but as he is depicted when he gets up on his

hind-paws. I could not believe my eyes. If it were not a bear I had

seen, it was, any way, something enormous, black shaggy.… I was still

lost in wonder as to what it could be, when suddenly I heard below a

furious knocking. It seemed something utterly unlooked for, something

terrible was stumbling headlong into our house. Then began a commotion,

a hurrying to and fro.…

A Lear of the Steppes, etc. · 第 45 / 126 题