Elisaveta and Elena were walking again on a path close to the road
that connected the Prosianiya Meadows and the Rameyev estate. The
sisters were glad that it was so still and deserted around them and
that the turmoil of life seemed so remote from them. Life with all its
bustling movement seemed indeed distant, and it was a joy to dismiss
all its conditions and proprieties from their minds and to walk with
bare feet upon the soft ground, the sand, the clay, and the grass; it
filled their hearts with a simple, childlike, and chaste delight.
Both were dressed alike, in short frocks; there was a sash raised
rather high at the waist, two other bands crossed each other at the
breast, the sleeves were cut quite short at the shoulders.
They walked on farther, and their eyes contemplated gaily and
affectionately the half-hidden depths of the valleys, the woods, and
the thickets. A simple-hearted devotion to this lovable nature
possessed them--it was a sweet and tender devotion. It struck a deep
note in Elisaveta, who was in a mood of expectancy. If only she could
have met some one deserving of her love whom she might place at the
crossings of all earthly and heavenly roads, and to whom she might do
obeisance!
This tender devotion aroused young virginal intoxication in Elena
also. She felt herself in love--not with any one in particular, but
with everything: as the air loves in the springtime, kissing all in
its gladness; as a stream’s currents love when they brush caressingly
past boys’ and girls’ pink knees--such were the currents of the stream
that suddenly became visible, winding its way among the green in the
direction of the River Skorodyen, into which it emptied itself.
The bridge was some way off, and so the sisters waded the stream.
There was the delicious coolness of the water round their knees. They
remained standing on the bank and admired the porcupines of sand,
studded sparsely with tall blades of grass as with spines; also the
round pebbles made smooth by the water. Their cooled legs felt for
some time afterwards the sensation of the water’s loving caresses.
Just as the running water falls in love with all beauty that is
immersed in it, so Elena fell in love with all that her vision evoked
for her.
Most of all her love was directed towards Piotr. His love for
Elisaveta wounded her with a sweet pain.
The sisters descended into the hollow near Trirodov’s colony, ascended
it again to the other side, walked along the already familiar path,
and opened the gate--this time it yielded without effort. They
entered. Soon they saw a lake before them. The children and their
instructresses were bathing. There was a spirit of buoyancy in the
brown nakedness disporting itself in the buoyant waters--buoyant were
the splashes, the laughter, and the outcries!
The children and the instructresses walked out of the water upon the
dry ground and ran naked upon the sand. Their legs, bare and sunburnt,
seemed white in the green grass, like young birch-saplings growing out
of the earth.
They suddenly caught sight of the sisters, formed a ring of beautiful
wet bodies around them, and twirled in a circle at a fast, furious
pace. The discarded clothes that lay there close by seemed unnecessary
to the sisters at that moment. What, after all, was more beautiful and
lovely than the nude, eternal body?
The sisters learnt afterwards that they more often walked about naked
here than in their clothes.
The radiantly sad Nadezhda said to them:
“To lull the beast to sleep and to awaken the human being--that is the
reason of our nakedness.”
The dark, black-haired Maria said with ecstasy:
“We have bared our feet in order to come in closer contact with the
earth; we have become simple and happy, like people in the first
garden. We have discarded our clothes in order to come closer to the
elements. Caressed by these, clothed by the fire of the sun’s rays, we
have discovered the human being in us. This being is not the uncouth
beast thirsting for blood, or the townsman counting his profits--it is
the human being, clean in body and alive with love.”
So natural, indispensable, and inevitable seemed the nakedness of
these young, beautiful bodies that it appeared rather stupid to put on
one’s clothes afterwards. The sisters joined in with the naked
dancers, and went into the water and lay on the grass under the trees.
It was pleasant to feel the beauty, the grace, and the agility of
their bodies among these other twirling, beautiful, strong bodies.
Elisaveta’s observant glance detected two types among the girl
instructresses. There were the rapturous ones and the dissembling
ones.
The rapturous ones gave themselves up with a bacchic joy to a life
lived in the embrace of chaste nature: they fervently carried out all
the rites of the colony, joyously divested themselves of all fear and
shame, made great efforts and self-denials; and they laughed and they
flamed, overcome by a passionate thirst of noble actions and of
love--a thirst which not all the waters of this poor earth can quench.
Among this number were the sad Nadezhda and the ecstatic Maria.
The others, the dissembling ones, were those who had sold their time
and had parted with all their habits, inclinations, and proprieties
for money. They pretended that they loved children, simple life, and
bodily beauty. They did not find it hard to dissemble, for the others
served them as excellent models.
This time the sisters were shown the buildings of the colony, or at
least as much of them as they could see in an hour, and all sorts of
things made by the children--books and pictures--things that belonged
to this or that child. They were shown the fruit-orchard and the
garden-beds, above which the bees buzzed; and the air was fresh with
the honeyed aroma of flowers half lost in the tender softness of
profuse grasses.
But the sisters soon left.
They had intended to go home, but somehow they lost their way among
the paths and found themselves in sight of Trirodov’s house. Elisaveta
espied the high turrets rising above the white wall and recalled
Trirodov’s neither young nor handsome face: she became suffused with a
sweet passion, as with a rich wine--but it was an emotion not free
from pain.
Before they realized it they were quite close to the white wall, near
the ponderous closed gates. The small gate was open. A quiet, white
boy was looking at the sisters through the crevice with an inviting
glance. The sisters exchanged irresolute glances.
“Shall we go in, Vetochka[10]?” asked Elena.
“Yes, let’s go in,” said Elisaveta.
The sisters entered and found themselves in the garden. They found old
Elikonida at the entrance. She was sitting on the bench near the small
gate and was mumbling something slowly and indistinctly. Evidently no
one was there to listen to her. Perhaps the old woman was talking to
herself.
Old Elikonida was first engaged to nurse Kirsha; now she carried out
the duties of a housekeeper. She had always been austere and never
wasted a word in speaking with people. The sisters tried to draw her
into conversation; they wanted to ask her things, about the ways of
the house, the habits of Trirodov--they were such inquisitive girls!
Elena asked many questions, although Elisaveta tried to restrain her;
but they found out nothing. The old woman looked past the sisters and
mumbled in answer to all questions:
“I know what I know. I have seen what I have seen.”
The quiet children approached them. They stood motionless and
inanimate in the shade of the old trees, and looked at the sisters
with a fixed, expressionless stare. The sisters felt uncomfortable and
made haste to depart. They could hear behind them the austere mumbling
of Elikonida:
“I’ve seen what I’ve seen.”
And the quiet children laughed their quiet, quiet laughter, which was
truly like the sudden rustle of autumn leaves all aflutter in the air.
The sisters walked home silently. They found the right path and walked
without blundering. The evening darkness was coming on. They made
haste. The warm, damp earth clung to their feet and seemed to hinder
their movements.
They were not far from their own house when they suddenly came upon
Ostrov in the woods. He seemed to be on the look-out for something as
he walked. When he saw the sisters he turned aside and stood behind
the trees; then he strode forward quickly and faced them with an
unexpected suddenness that made Elena shudder and Elisaveta frown.
Ostrov bowed to them with derisive politeness and said:
“May I ask you something, fair ladies?”
Elisaveta surveyed him calmly and said without haste:
“What is it?”
Elena was silent with fear.
“Are you taking a walk?” asked Ostrov.
“Yes,” answered Elisaveta briefly.
“Mr. Trirodov’s house is somewhere hereabouts, unless I’m mistaken,”
said Ostrov, half questioningly.
“Yes, you’ll find it by following the direction from which we came,”
replied Elena.
She wanted to conquer her fear. Ostrov winked at her insolently and
said:
“Thank you most humbly. And who may you be?”
“Perhaps it is not necessary that you should know,” replied Elisaveta
with a half-question.
Ostrov burst into laughter and said with unpleasant familiarity:
“It may not be necessary, but it would be interesting.”
The sisters walked on rapidly, but he did not desist. They thought him
repulsive. There was something alarming in his obtrusiveness.
“You evidently live hereabouts, fair ladies,” continued Ostrov; “I
will therefore venture to ask you what you know about Mr. Trirodov,
who interests me immensely.”
Elena laughed, perhaps somewhat dissemblingly, in order to hide her
agitation and fear.
“Perhaps we don’t live hereabouts,” she said.
Ostrov whistled.
“Very likely, isn’t it, that you’ve come all the way from Moscow with
your bare little feet,” he shouted angrily.
“We cannot tell you anything that can interest you,” said Elena
coldly. “You had better apply to him personally. It would be more
proper.”
Ostrov again burst into a sarcastic laugh and exclaimed:
“I can’t deny that that would be proper, my handsome barefoot one. But
suppose he’s very busy, eh? How, then, would you advise me to get this
interesting information I want?”
The sisters were silent and walked on rapidly. Ostrov persisted:
“You are of his colony? Unless I’m mistaken you are instructresses
there. As far as one could judge from your light dresses and your
contempt of footwear, I think I’m not mistaken, eh? Tell me, it’s an
amusing life there, isn’t it?”
“No,” said Elisaveta, “we are not instructresses and we do not live
there.”
“What a pity!” said Ostrov incredulously. “I might have told you
something about Mr. Trirodov.”
He looked at the sisters attentively. They were silent.
“I’ve got together all sorts of information here and elsewhere,” he
went on. “Curious things they tell about him, very curious indeed. And
where did he get his money? In general there are many suspicious
circumstances about his life.”
“Suspicious for whom?” asked Elena. “And what affair is it of ours?”
“What affair is it of yours, my charming maidens?” repeated Ostrov
after her. “I have a well-founded suspicion that you are acquainted
with Mr. Trirodov, and I therefore hope that you’ll tell me something
about him.”
“You had better not hope,” said Elisaveta.
“And why not?” observed Ostrov in a familiar tone. “He’s an old
acquaintance of mine. In years gone by we lived, drank, and roamed
together. And quite suddenly I lost sight of him, and now quite as
suddenly I’ve found him again. Naturally, I’m interested. As an old
friend, you see!”
“Now, look here,” said Elisaveta, “we do not wish to converse with
you. You had better go where you were going. We know nothing that
would interest you and we have nothing to say to you.”
“So that’s it!” said Ostrov, with an insolent smile. “And now, my
beauty, I’d better tell you that you’re expressing yourself a little
carelessly. Suppose I whistled suddenly, eh?”
“What for?” asked Elisaveta, astonished.
“What for-r? Well, some one may come out to my whistle.”
“What then?” asked Elisaveta.
After a short silence Ostrov resumed his threatening tone:
“You may be asked to give a few details about what Mr. Trirodov is
doing behind his walls.”
“Nonsense!” said Elisaveta in vexation.
“In any case, I’m only joking,” said Ostrov, suddenly changing his
tone.
He was listening intently. Some one was coming towards them. The
sisters recognized Piotr and walked quickly to meet him. From their
haste and flustered manner Piotr understood that the man was
distasteful to them. He eyed him fixedly and recalled where he had met
him, whereupon he frowned and asked the sisters:
“Who is this?”
“A very inquisitive person who somehow has got an idea that we have
many interesting things to tell him about Trirodov,” said Elisaveta
with a smile.
Ostrov raised his hat and said:
“I’ve had the honour to see you on the float.”
“Well, what of it?” asked Piotr sharply.
“Well--er, I have the honour to remind you,” said Ostrov with
exaggerated politeness.
“What are you doing here?” asked Piotr.
“I’ve had the pleasure of meeting these charming young ladies,” Ostrov
began to explain.
Piotr interrupted him sharply:
“And now you let the young ladies alone and go away from here.”
“Why shouldn’t I have turned to these young ladies with a polite
question and an interesting tale?” asked Ostrov.
Piotr, without replying, turned to the sisters:
“You little girls are ready to enter into conversation with every
vagrant.”
An expression of bitterness crept into Ostrov’s face. Possibly this
was only a game, but it was certainly well played. It made Piotr feel
uncomfortable.
“A vagrant? And what is a vagrant?” asked Ostrov.
“What is a vagrant?” repeated Piotr in confusion. “What a question!”
“Well, sir, you have permitted yourself to use the word, and I’m
rather interested to know in what sense you’ve used it in its
application to me.”
Piotr, annoyed at being disconcerted by the stranger’s question, said
sharply:
“A vagrant is one who roams about without shelter and without money
and obtrudes upon others instead of attending to his own business.”
“Thank you for the definition,” said Ostrov with a bow. “It is true
that I have but little money and that I’m compelled to roam
about--such is the nature of my profession.”
“What is your profession?” asked Piotr.
Ostrov bowed with dignity and said:
“I’m an actor!”
“I doubt it,” said Piotr once more sharply, “you look more like a
detective.”
“You are mistaken,” said Ostrov in a flustered way.
Piotr turned away from him.
“Let us go home at once,” he said to the sisters.