flew out of the chimney, and then into, the chimney again, the pouch
which hung by a shoulder-belt at his side, and in which he had hidden
the stolen moon, in some way or other caught in something in the oven,
flew open, and the moon, availing herself of the opportunity, mounted
through the chimney of Solokha's cottage and rose majestically in the
sky. It grew light all at once; the storm subsided; the snow-covered
fields seemed all over with silver, set with crystal stars; even the
frost seemed to have grown milder; crowds of lads and lasses made their
appearance with sacks upon their shoulders; songs resounded, and but
few cottagers were without a band of carollers. How beautifully the
moon shines! It would be difficult to describe the charm one feels in
sauntering on such a night among the troops of maidens who laugh and
sing, and of lads who are ready to adopt every trick and invention
suggested by the gay and smiling night. The tightly-belted fur coat
is warm; the frost makes one's cheeks tingle more sharply; and the
Cunning One, himself, seems, from behind your back, to urge you to all
kinds of frolics. A crowd of maidens, with sacks, pushed their way into
Choop's cottage, surrounded Oxana, and bewildered the blacksmith by
their shouts, their laughter, and their stories. Every one was in haste
to tell something new to the beauty; softie unloaded their sacks, and
boasted of the quantity of loaves, sausages, and curd dumplings which
they had already received in reward for their carolling. Oxana seemed
to be all pleasure and joy, went on chattering, first with one, then
with another, and never for a moment ceased laughing. The blacksmith
looked with anger and envy at her joy, and cursed the carolling,
notwithstanding his having been mad about it himself in former times.
"Odarka," said the joyful beauty, turning to one of the girls, "thou
hast got on new boots! Ah! how beautiful they are! all ornamented with
gold too! Thou art happy, Odarka, to have a suitor who can make thee
such presents; I have nobody who would give me such pretty boots!"
"Don't grieve about boots, my incomparable Oxana!" chimed in the
blacksmith; "I will bring thee such boots as few ladies wear."
"Thou?" said Oxana, throwing a quick disdainful glance at him. "We
shall see where thou wilt get such boots as will suit my foot, unless
thou bringest me the very boots which the Czarina wears!"
"Just see what she has taken a fancy to now!" shouted the group of
laughing girls.
"Yes!" haughtily continued the beauty, "I call all of you to witness,
that if the blacksmith Vakoola brings me the very boots which the
Czarina wears, I pledge him my word instantly to marry him."
The maidens led away the capricious belle.
"Laugh on, laugh on!" said the blacksmith, stepping out after them.
"I myself laugh at my own folly. It is in vain that I think, over and
over again, where have I left my wits? She does not love me--well,
God be with her! Is Oxana the only woman in all the world? Thanks be
to God! there are many handsome maidens in the village besides Oxana.
Yes, indeed, what is Oxana? No good housewife will ever be made out of
her; she only understands how to deck herself. No, truly, it is high
time for me to leave off making a fool of myself." And yet at the very
moment when he came to this resolution, the blacksmith saw before his
eyes the laughing face of Oxana, teasing him with the words--"Bring me,
blacksmith, the Czarina's own boots, and I will marry thee!" He was all
agitation, and his every thought was bent on Oxana alone.
The carolling groups of lads on one side, of maidens on the other,
passed rapidly from street to street. But the blacksmith went on his
way without noticing anything, and without taking any part in the
rejoicings, in which, till now, he had delighted above all others.
The devil had, in the meanwhile, quickly reached the utmost limits of
tenderness in his conversation with Solokha; he kissed her hand with
nearly the same faces as the magistrate used when making love to the
priest's wife; he pressed his hand upon his heart, sighed, and told
her that if she did not choose to consider his passion, and meet it
with due return, he had made up his mind to throw himself into the
water, and send his soul right down to hell. But Solokha was not so
cruel--the more so, as the devil, it is well known, was in league with
her. Moreover, she liked to have some one to flirt with, and rarely
remained alone. This evening she expected to be without any visitor,
on account of all the chief inhabitants of the village being invited
to the clerk's house. And yet quite the contrary happened. Hardly had
the devil set forth his demand, when the voice of the stout elder
was heard. Solokha ran to open the door, and the quick devil crept
into one of the sacks that were lying on the floor. The elder, after
having shaken off the snow from his cap, and drunk a cup of brandy
which Solokha presented to him, told her that he had not gone to the
clerk's on account of the snow-storm, and that, having seen a light in
her cottage, he had come to pass the evening with her. The elder had
just done speaking when there was a knock at the door, and the clerk's
voice was heard from without. "Hide me wherever thou wilt," whispered
the elder; "I should not like to meet the clerk." Solokha could not
at first conceive where so stout a visitor might possibly be hidden;
at last she thought the biggest charcoal sack would be fit for the
purpose; she threw the charcoal into a tub, and the sack being empty,
in went the stout elder, mustachios, head, cap, and all. Presently the
clerk made his appearance, giving way to a short dry cough, and rubbing
his hands together. He told her how none of his guests had come, and
how he was heartily glad of it, as it had given him the opportunity of
taking a walk to her abode, in spite of the snow-storm. After this he
came a step nearer to her, coughed once more, laughed, touched her bare
plump arm with his fingers, and said with a sly, and at the same time
a pleased voice, "What have you got here, most magnificent Solokha?"
after which words he jumped back a few steps.
"How, what? Assip Nikiphorovitch! it is my arm!" answered Solokha.
"Hem! your arm! he! he! he!" smirked the clerk, greatly rejoiced at his
beginning, and he took a turn in the room.
"And what is this, dearest Solokha?" said he, with the same expression,
again coming to her, gently touching her throat, and once more
springing back.
"As if you cannot see for yourself, Assip Nikiphorovitch!" answered
Solokha, "it is my throat and my necklace on it."
"Hem! your necklace upon your throat! he! he! he!" and again did the
clerk take a walk, rubbing his hands.
"And what have you here, unequalled Solokha?"
We know not what the clerk's long fingers would now have touched, if
just at that moment he had not heard a knock at the door, and, at the
same time, the voice of the Cossack Choop.
"Heavens! what an unwelcome visitor!" said the clerk in a fright,
"whatever will happen if a person of my character is met here! If
it should reach the ears of Father Kondrat!" But, in fact, the
apprehension of the clerk was of quite a different description;
above all things he dreaded lest his wife should be acquainted with
his visit to Solokha; and he had good reason to dread her, for her
powerful hand had already made his thick plait[18] a very thin one.
"In Heaven's name, most virtuous Solokha!" said he, trembling all
over; "your goodness, as the Scripture saith, in St. Luke, chapter the
thir--thir--there _is_ somebody knocking, decidedly there is somebody
knocking at the door! In Heaven's name let me hide somewhere!"
Solokha threw the charcoal out of another sack into the tub, and in
crept the clerk, who, being by no means corpulent, sat down at the very
bottom of it, so that there would have been room enough to put more
than half a sackful of charcoal on top of him.
"Good evening, Solokha," said Choop, stepping into the room, "Thou
didst not perhaps expect me? didst thou? certainly not; may be I
hindered thee," continued Choop, putting on a gay meaning face, which
expressed at once that his lazy head laboured, and that he was on the
point of saying some sharp and sportive witticism. "May be thou wert
already engaged in flirting with somebody! May be thou hast already
some one hidden? Is it so?" said he; and delighted at his own wit,
Choop gave way to a hearty laugh, inwardly exulting at the thought
that he was the only one who enjoyed the favours of Solokha. "Well
now, Solokha, give me a glass of brandy; I think the abominable frost
has frozen my throat! What a night for a Christmas eve! As it began
snowing, Solokha---just listen, Solokha--as it began snowing--eh! I
cannot move my hands; impossible to unbutton my coat! Well, as it began
snowing"--
"Open!" cried some one in the street, at the same time giving a thump
at the door.
"Somebody is knocking at the door!" said Choop, stopping in his speech.
"Open!" cried the voice, still louder.
"'Tis the blacksmith!" said Choop, taking his cap; "listen,
Solokha!--put me wherever thou wilt! on no account in the world would I
meet that confounded lad! Devil's son! I wish he had a blister as big
as a haycock under each eye."
Solokha was so frightened that she rushed backwards and forwards in
the room, and quite unconscious of what she did, showed Choop into
the same sack where the clerk was already sitting. The poor clerk had
to restrain his cough and his sighs when the weighty Cossack sat down
almost on his head, and placed his boots, covered with frozen snow,
just on his temples.
The blacksmith came in, without saying a word, without taking off his
cap, and threw himself on the bench. It was easy to see that he was
in a very bad temper. Just as Solokha shut the door after him, she
heard another tap under the window. It was the Cossack Sverbygooze.
As to this one, he decidedly could never have been hidden in a sack,
for no sack large enough could ever have been found. In person, he was
even stouter than the elder, and as to height, he was even taller than
Choop's kinsman. So Solokha went with him into the kitchen garden, in
order to hear whatever he had to say to her.
The blacksmith looked vacantly round the room, listening at times to
the songs of the carolling parties. His eyes rested at last on the
sacks:
"Why do these sacks lie here? They ought to have been taken away
long ago. This stupid love has made quite a fool of me; to-morrow
is a festival, and the room is still full of rubbish. I will clear
it away into the smithy!" And the blacksmith went to the enormous
sacks, tied them as tightly as he could, and would have lifted them
on his shoulders; but it was evident that his thoughts were far away,
otherwise he could not have helped hearing how Choop hissed when the
cord with which the sack was tied, twisted his hair, and how the stout
elder began to hiccup very distinctly. "Shall I never get this silly
Oxana out of my head?" mused the blacksmith; "I will not think of her;
and yet, in spite of myself I think of her, and of her alone. How is it
that thoughts come into one's head against one's own will? What, the
devil! Why the sacks appear to have grown heavier than they were; it
seems as if there was something else besides charcoal! What a fool I
am! have I forgotten that everything seems to me heavier than it used
to be. Some time ago, with one hand I could bend and unbend a copper
coin, or a horse-shoe; and now, I cannot lift a few sacks of charcoal;
soon every breath of wind will blow me off my legs. No," cried he,
after having remained silent for a while, and coming to himself again,
"shall it be said that I am a woman? No one shall have the laugh
against me; had I ten such sacks, I would lift them all at once." And,
accordingly, he threw the sacks upon his shoulders, although two strong
men could hardly have lifted them. "I will take this little one, too,"
continued he, taking hold of the little one, at the bottom of which
was coiled up the devil. "I think I put my instruments into it;" and
thus saying, he went out of the cottage, whistling the tune:
"No wife I'll have to bother me."
Songs and shouts grew louder and louder in the streets; the crowds
of strolling people were increased by those who came in from the
neighbouring villages; the lads gave way to their frolics and sports.
Often amongst the Christmas carols might be heard a gay song, just
improvised by some young Cossack. Hearty laughter rewarded the
improviser. The little windows of the cottages flew open, and from
them was thrown a sausage or a piece of pie, by the thin hand of some
old woman or some aged peasant, who alone remained in-doors. The booty
was eagerly caught in the sacks of the young people. In one place, the
lads formed a ring to surround a group of maidens; nothing was heard
but shouts and screams; one was throwing a snow-ball, another was
endeavouring to get hold of a sack crammed with Christmas donations. In
another place, the girls caught hold of some youth, or put something in
his way, and down he fell with his sack. It seemed as if the whole of
the night would pass away in these festivities. And the night, as if on
purpose, shone so brilliantly; the gleam of the snow made the beams of
the moon still whiter.
The blacksmith with his sacks stopped suddenly. He fancied he heard the
voice and the sonorous laughter of Oxana in the midst of a group of
maidens. It thrilled through his whole frame; he threw the sacks on
the ground with so much force that the clerk, sitting at the bottom of
one of them, groaned with pain, and the elder hiccupped aloud; then,
keeping only the little sack upon his shoulders, the blacksmith joined
a company of lads who followed close after a group of maidens, amongst
whom he thought he had heard Oxana's voice.
"Yes, indeed; there she is! standing like a queen, her dark eyes
sparkling with pleasure! There is a handsome youth speaking with her;
his speech seems very amusing, for she is laughing; but does she not
always laugh?" Without knowing why he did it and as if against his
will, the blacksmith pushed his way through the crowd, and stood beside
her.
"Ah! Vakoola, here art thou; a good evening to thee!" said the belle,
with the very smile which drove Vakoola quite mad. "Well, hast thou
received much? Eh! what a small sack! And didst thou get the boots that
the Czarina wears? Get those boots and I'll marry thee!" and away she
ran laughing with the crowd.
The blacksmith remained riveted to the spot. "No, I cannot; I have not
the strength to endure it any longer," said he at last. "But, Heavens!
why is she so beautiful? Her looks, her voice, all, all about her makes
my blood boil! No, I cannot get the better of it; it is time to put an
end to this. Let my soul perish! I'll go and drown myself, and then
all will be over." He dashed forwards with hurried steps, overtook
the group, approached Oxana, and said to her in a resolute voice:
"Farewell, Oxana! Take whatever bridegroom thou pleasest; make a fool
of whom thou wilt; as for me, thou shalt never more meet me in this
world!" The beauty seemed astonished, and was about to speak, but the
blacksmith waved his hand and ran away.
"Whither away, Vakoola?" cried the lads, seeing him run. "Farewell,
brothers," answered the blacksmith. "God grant that we may meet in
another world; but in this we meet no more! Fare you well! keep a kind
remembrance of me. Pray Father Kondrat to say a mass for my sinful
soul. Ask him forgiveness that I did not, on account of worldly cares,
paint the tapers for the church. Everything that is found in my big box
I give to the Church; farewell!"--and thus saying, the blacksmith went
on running, with his sack on his back.
"He has gone mad!" said the lads. "Poor lost soul!" piously ejaculated
an old woman who happened to pass by; "I'll go and tell about the
blacksmith having hanged himself."
Vakoola, after having run for some time along the streets, stopped
to take breath. "Well, where am I running?" thought he; "is really
all lost?--I'll try one thing more; I'll go to the fat Patzuck, the
Zaporoghian. They say he knows every devil, and has the power of
doing everything he wishes; I'll go to him; 'tis the same thing for
the perdition of my soul." At this, the devil, who had long remained
quiet and motionless, could not refrain from giving vent to his joy
by leaping in the sack. But the blacksmith thinking he had caught the
sack with his hand, and thus occasioned the movement himself, gave a
hard blow on the sack with his fist, and after shaking it about on his
shoulders, went off to the fat Patzuck.
This fat Patzuck had indeed once been a Zaporoghian. Nobody, however,
knew whether he had been turned out of the warlike community, or
whether he had fled from it of his own accord.
He had already been for some ten, nay, it might even be for some
fifteen years, settled at Dikanka. At first, he had lived as best
suited a Zaporoghian; working at nothing, sleeping three-quarters
of the day, eating not less than would satisfy six harvest-men, and
drinking almost a whole pailful at once. It must be allowed that there
was plenty of room for food and drink in Patzuck; for, though he was
not very tall, he tolerably made up for it in bulk. Moreover, the
trousers he wore were so wide, that long as might be the strides he
took in walking, his feet were never seen at all, and he might have
been taken t for a wine cask moving along the streets. This, may have
been the reason for giving him the nick-name of "Fatty." A few weeks
had hardly passed since his arrival in the village, when it came to
be known that he was a wizard. If any one happened to fall ill, he
called Patzuck directly; and Patzuck had only to mutter a few words to
put an end to the illness at once. Had any hungry Cossack swallowed a
fish-bone, Patzuck knew how to give him right skilfully a slap on the
back, so that the fish-bone went where it ought to go without causing
any pain to the Cossack's throat. Latterly, Patzuck was scarcely ever
seen out of doors. This was perhaps caused by laziness, and perhaps,
also, because to get through the door was a task which with every year
grew more and more difficult for him. So the villagers were obliged
to repair to his own lodgings whenever they wanted to consult him.
The blacksmith opened the door, not without some fear. He saw Patzuck
sitting on the floor after the Turkish fashion. Before him was a tub
on which stood a tureen full of lumps of dough cooked in grease. The
tureen was put, as if intentionally, on a level with his mouth. Without
moving a single finger, he bent his head a little towards the tureen,
and sipped the gravy, catching the lumps of dough with his teeth.
"Well," thought Vakoola to himself, "this fellow is still lazier than
Choop; Choop at least eats with a spoon, but this one does not even
raise his hand!" Patzuck seemed to be busily engaged with his meal, for
he took not the slightest notice of the entrance of the blacksmith,
who, as soon as he crossed the threshold, made a low bow.
"I am come to thy worship, Patzuck!" said Vakoola, bowing once more.
The fat Patzuck lifted his head and went on eating the lumps of dough.
"They say that thou art--I beg thy pardon," said the blacksmith,
endeavouring to compose himself, "I do not say it to offend thee--that
thou hast the devil among thy friends;" and in saying these words
Vakoola was already afraid he had spoken too much to the point, and had
not sufficiently softened the hard words he had used, and that Patzuck
would throw at his head both the tub and the tureen; he even stepped a
little on one side and covered his face with his sleeve, to prevent it
from being sprinkled by the gravy.
But Patzuck looked up and continued sipping.
The encouraged blacksmith resolved to proceed--"I am come to thee,
Patzuck; God grant thee plenty of everything, and bread in good
_proportion_!" The blacksmith knew how to put in a fashionable word
sometimes; it was a talent he had acquired during his stay at Poltava,
when he painted the centurion's palisade. "I am on the point of
endangering the salvation of my sinful soul! nothing in this world can
serve me! Come what will, I am resolved to seek the help of the devil.
Well, Patzuck," said he, seeing that the other remained silent, "what
am I to do?"
"If thou wantest the devil, go to the devil!" answered Patzuck, not
giving him a single look, and going on with his meal.
"I am come to thee for this very reason," returned the blacksmith with
a bow; "besides thyself, methinks there is hardly anybody in the world
who knows how to go to the devil."
Patzuck, without saying a word, ate up all that remained on the dish.
"Please, good man, do not refuse me!" urged the blacksmith. "And if
there be any want of pork, or sausages, or buckwheat, or even linen or
millet, or anything else--why, we know how honest folk manage these
things. I shall not be stingy. Only do tell me, if it be only by a
hint, how to find the way to the devil."
"He who has got the devil on his back has no great way to go to him,"
said Patzuck quietly, without changing his position.
Vakoola fixed his eyes upon him as if searching for the meaning of
these words on his face. "What does he mean?" thought he, and opened
his mouth as if to swallow his first word. But Patzuck kept silence.
Here Vakoola noticed that there was no longer either tub or tureen
before him, but instead of them there stood upon the floor two wooden
pots, the one full of curd dumplings, the other full of sour cream.
Involuntarily his thoughts and his eyes became riveted to these pots.
"Well, now," thought he, "how will Patzuck eat the dumplings? He will
not bend down to catch them like the bits of dough, and moreover, it
is impossible; for they ought to be first dipped into the cream." This
thought had hardly crossed the mind of Vakoola, when Patzuck opened
his mouth, looked at the dumplings, and then opened it still wider.
Immediately, a dumpling jumped out of the pot, dipped itself into the
cream, turned over on the other side, and went right into Patzuck's
mouth. Patzuck ate it, once more opened his mouth, and in went another
dumpling in the same way. All Patzuck had to do was to chew and to
swallow them. "That is wondrous indeed," thought the blacksmith, and
astonishment made him also open his mouth; but he felt directly, that
a dumpling jumped into it also, and that his lips were already smeared
with cream; he pushed it away, and after having wiped his lips, began
to think about the marvels that happen in the world and the wonders one
may work with the help of the devil; at the same time he felt more than
ever convinced that Patzuck alone could help him. "I will beg of him
still more earnestly to explain to me--but, what do I see? to-day is a
fast, and he is eating dumplings, and dumplings are not food for fast
days![19] What a fool I am! staying here and giving way to temptation!
Away, away!" and the pious blacksmith ran with all speed out of the
cottage. The devil, who remained all the while sitting in the sack, and
already rejoiced at the glorious victim he had entrapped, could not
endure to see him get free from his clutches. As soon as the blacksmith
left the sack a little loose, he sprang out of it and sat upon the
blacksmith's neck.
Vakoola felt a cold shudder run through all his frame; his courage gave
way, his face grew pale, he knew not what to do; he was already on the
point of making the sign of the cross; but the devil bending his dog's
muzzle to his right ear, whispered: "Here I am, I, thy friend; I will
do everything for a comrade and a friend such as thou! I'll give thee
as much money as thou canst wish for!" squeaked he in his left ear. "No
later than this very day Oxana shall be ours!" continued he, turning
his muzzle once more to the right ear.
The blacksmith stood considering. "Well," said he, at length, "on this
condition I am ready to be thine."
The devil clapped his hand and began to indulge his joy in springing
about on the blacksmith's neck. "Now, I've caught him!" thought he to
himself, "Now, I'll take my revenge upon thee, my dear fellow, for all
thy paintings and all thy tales about devils! What will my fellows say
when they come to know that the most pious man in the village is in my
power?" and the devil laughed heartily at the thought of how he would
tease all the long-tailed breed in hell, and how the lame devil, who
was reputed the most cunning of them all for his tricks, would feel
provoked.
"Well, Vakoola!" squeaked he, while he continued sitting on Vakoola's
neck, as if fearing the blacksmith should escape; "thou knowest well
that nothing can be done without contract."
"I am ready," said the blacksmith. "I've heard that it is the custom
with you to write it in blood; well, stop, let me take a nail out of my
pocket"--and putting his hand behind him, he suddenly seized the devil
by his tail.
"Look, what fun!" cried the devil, laughing; "well, let me alone now,
there's enough of play!"