Pashka went on a step or two in silence. Then he wheeled sharp round,
stood in front of Ilya, and said in a dull hissing voice:
"When I think that other men kiss her, then it's like molten lead
driving through my limbs."
"Why don't you let her go?"
"Let her go?" cried Pavel in the highest astonishment. Ilya understood
afterwards when he saw the girl.
They came to a one-storied house on the outskirts of the town. Its six
windows were fast shut with thick shutters so that the house had the
look of an old straggling granary. The wet, sloppy snow clung to roof
and walls, as though it would conceal or smother the house.
Pashka knocked at the door and said:
"This is where they're looked after. Sidorisha gives her girls board
and lodging and takes fifty roubles from each of them for it; she has
only four altogether. Of course she keeps wine too, and beer, and
sweetmeats, and all that you want, for the rest she lets the girls do
what they want to, go out if they like, or stop at home if they like,
only pay the fifty every month. They are all jolly girls; they make
money as easily as----One of them, Olympiada, never takes less than
four roubles."
There was a rustling the other side of the door. A yellow streak of
light quivered in the air.
"Who is there?"
"I, Vassa Sidorovna--Gratschev."
"Oh! The door opened and a little dried-up old woman, with a big nose
in her shrivelled face, held the candle up to Pavel's face, and said in
a friendly way:
"Good evening, Pashka. Vyerunka has been waiting for you for a long
time, and is quite cross. Who's that with you?"
"A friend."
"Who is it?" came a pleasant voice out of a long, dark corridor.
"A visitor for Vyera," said the old woman.
"Vyera, here's your sweetheart," cried the same clear voice, ringing
through the corridor. At once at the end of the passage a door opened
and the dainty figure of a girl, dressed in white, appeared in the
bright patch of light, with her thick fair hair streaming round her
face.
"How late you are!" she said, in a deep alto voice, pouting. Then she
stood on the tips of her toes, put her hands on Pavel's shoulders, and
looked at Ilya out of her soft brown eyes.
"This is my friend, Ilya Lunev. I met him, and that's how I'm a bit
late."
"Welcome," she said, giving Ilya her hand, so that the wide sleeve of
her loose white dress fell back almost up to the shoulder. Ilya pressed
her hot, dry little hand respectfully, without a word. He looked at
Pavel's sweetheart, with that feeling of joyful surprise with which
a man greets a slender fragrant birch-tree in a thick wood full of
brambles and marshy thickets. As she stood aside to let him enter, he
stepped back, bowed, and said politely:
"Please, after you."
"How polite!" she laughed.
Her laughter was pleasant, gay and clear. Pavel laughed too, and said:
"You've turned his head already, Vyerka. See, how he stands there, like
a bear in front of the honey jar."
"Is that true?" asked the girl, mischievously.
"Of course," answered Ilya, laughing. "I'm quite bewildered by your
beauty."
"Here, you, listen! You just fall in love with her and I'll kill you,"
Pavel threatened, jokingly. It pleased him that his lady's beauty
should make such an impression on his friend, and his eyes shone with
pride as he looked at her. She, too, paraded her charms with a naïve
coquetry, convinced of their power. She wore nothing but a bodice with
sleeves, over a vest and a shining white petticoat; her healthy,
sound, snow-white body showed through the bodice-opening. A childish,
self-contented smile twitched at the corners of her red lips; it was
as though she took pleasure in herself, like a child with a toy it is
not yet tired of. Ilya could not take his eyes off her. He saw how
gracefully she moved up and down in the room, and how she wrinkled up
her little nose, and laughed and chattered, and looked tenderly at
Pavel every now and then; his heart was heavy to think he had no such
friend. He sat silently and looked about him. A table covered with a
white cloth, stood in the middle of the little, tidy, brightly-lighted
room; on the table the samovar bubbled cheerily, and everything round
about it was fresh and gay; the cups, the wine-bottle, the plate with
bread and sausage--everything had a clean new look; it struck Ilya as
unusual, and moved him to envy Pavel, who sat there, quite blissful,
and began to rhyme extempore:
"The sight of you, like bright sunshine,
Streams over this poor heart of mine.
Forgotten all my grief and pain,
My heart begins to hope again.
To call a beautiful girl one's own
Is the greatest joy that can ever be known."
"Pashka, dear, how nice it is!" cried Vyera, delighted.
"Ah! it's hot! Hullo, you there, Ilya, leave off! Can't you look
enough? Get one for yourself!"
"But she must be pretty," said Vyera, with a strange emphasis, looking
Ilya in the eyes.
"Prettier than you can't be found," sighed Ilya, and laughed.
"Don't talk of things you don't understand," said Vyera, softly.
"He knows his way about," said Pashka. Then, turning to Ilya, went on,
wrinkling his brow: "Here, now, everything is so clean and jolly, and
then, all of a sudden--one thinks--It cuts one's heart."
"Don't think then!" cried Vyera, and bent over the table. Ilya looked
at her, and saw how her ears grew red.
"You must think--" she went on, softly but firmly--"if I have only a
day, still it's mine! It isn't easy for me, either, but I don't mix up
the joy and the trouble; I keep it, like the song says: 'The sorrow I
alone will bear, the joy together we shall share.'"
Pavel listened, but hardened his heart, in his sulky mood. Ilya longed
to say something comforting, encouraging, and, after a pause, began:
"What's to be done when the knots won't be loosened? If I had lots of
money, a thousand or ten thousand roubles, I'd give it to you, and say:
'There, take it, take it because of your love,' for I see it and feel
it; for you it's a real true heart affair, and that is always pure to
the conscience, and all the rest you can spit at."
A warm feeling flamed up and thrilled through him. He stood up when
he saw the girl lift her head and look at him gratefully, while Pavel
smiled, as though he waited for him to say more.
"It's the first time in my life I've seen such a beautiful thing,"
Ilya went on. "It's the first time I have seen how people can love
one another; and, Pavel, it's the first time I've really got to know
you--I've looked into your soul. I sit here and say frankly, I envy
you; I'm sad and merry at the same time. God grant that all may be well
with you! And--and as for the rest, let me say something. Suppose--I
dislike Chuvashai and Mordvij, they're dirty and blear-eyed. But I
bathe in the same river and drink the same water as they do. Am I to
avoid the river because they are objectionable? Why should I? God
cleanses it again."
"That's it, Ilya! You're a good fellow," cried Pavel, excitedly.
"But do you drink out of the river?" said Vyera, softly.
"I must find it first," laughed Ilya. "Pour me out a glass of tea to go
on with, Vyera!"
"You're a nice boy!" cried the girl.
"Many thanks," said Ilya, seriously, bowed to her, and sat down again.
His words and the whole scene acted on Pavel like wine. His animated
face reddened, his eyes shone with excitement, he sprang from his
chair and paced the room joyously. "Ah, devil take it!" he cried, "the
world's a jolly place, if men are as simple as children. It was a good
thing I did when I brought you along, Ilya! Drink, brother! Fill up,
Vyerunka!"
"Now there's no holding him," said the girl, and smiled at him
tenderly. Then, turning to Ilya, "he's always like that, either as gay
and shining as a rainbow, or dull, and grey, and cross."
"That's not good," said Lunev decidedly. Then all three began to
chatter gaily and cheerfully, breaking into careless laughter every now
and then.
There was a knock at the door, and a voice asked: "Vyera, may I come
in?"
"Come in! come in! Ilya Jakovlevitsch, this is my friend, Lipa."
Ilya rose from his chair, and turned towards the door. A tall, stately
woman stood before him, and looked in his face with calm blue eyes.
From her dress came a sweet perfume, her cheeks were fresh and red, and
her head was adorned with a crown-like mass of hair that made her look
even taller.
"I was sitting alone in my room, so bored, and then, all at once I
heard you talking and laughing, and so--well, I came here. You don't
mind I hope? There's a gentleman without a lady. I will entertain
him--shall I?"
With a graceful gesture, she placed her chair near Ilya's, seated
herself, and asked: "You're rather bored with them, aren't you? They
kiss and hug one another, and you're envious, eh?"
"I'm not bored with them," said Ilya, confused by feeling her so near.
"That's a pity," she said quietly, then turned from Ilya and went over
to Vyera.
"Just think, I went to Mass yesterday at the nunnery, and I saw such
a pretty nun in the choir, such a dear. I couldn't take my eyes off
her, and thought why on earth did she go into the nunnery. I felt quite
sorry."
"Why? I shouldn't pity her," said Vyera.
"Oh! Who's going to believe that!"
Ilya breathed in the costly perfume that floated round this woman,
he looked sidelong at her and listened to her voice. She spoke with
extraordinary calm and self-possession, there was something drowsy in
her voice and it seemed as though a powerful, delightful scent streamed
from her words also.
"D'you know, Vyera, I'm still considering if I shall go to Poluektov or
not."
"I can't advise you."
"Perhaps I will. He's old and rich, and those are two important points.
But he's miserly. I want five thousand roubles in my name in the bank,
and a hundred and fifty roubles a month, and he only offers three
thousand and a hundred."
"Don't talk of it now, Lipotshka!"
"All right, as you like," said Lipa, quietly, and turned again to Ilya.
"Now, young man, let us talk a little. I like you, you've a nice face
and serious eyes. What will you say to that?"
"I? I shan't say anything," said he, laughing carelessly, but feeling
clearly how this woman ensnared him with her magic.
"Nothing? oh! you're bored;--what are you?"
"Pedlar."
"R--really? I thought you were a clerk in a bank, or in some shop. You
look very good form."
"I like cleanliness," said Ilya. He felt oppressively hot, and his head
was in a whirl with the perfume.
"You like cleanliness?--that's very nice. Are you a good hand at
guessing?"
"I don't understand."
"Can't you guess that you're in the way here, eh;" and she looked right
through him with her blue eyes.
"Oh! of course. I'll go," said Ilya confused.
"Wait a minute! Vyera, may I take this youngster away?"
"Of course, if he wants to go," answered Vyera, laughing.
"But where?" asked Ilya, in great excitement.
"Oh! go along you silly fellow!" cried Pashka.
Ilya stood there dazed and laughed vaguely, but the beautiful lady took
his hand and led him out, saying in her quiet way: "You're not tamed
yet, and I'm capricious and obstinate. If I made up my mind to put out
the sun, I'd climb on the roof and blow at it till I'd used my last
breath. Now you know what I'm like."
Ilya went with her hand in hand, hardly hearing her words and not
understanding at all: he only felt she was so warm, and soft and
fragrant.