Peredonov went to Vespers in the school chapel. There he placed himself
behind the students and looked attentively to see how they behaved. It
seemed to him that some of them were mischievous, talked, whispered
and laughed. He noticed who they were and tried to memorise their
names. There were a number of them and he reproached himself for not
having brought a piece of paper and a pencil with him to write their
names down. He felt depressed because the students behaved so badly
and no one paid any attention to it, although the Head-Master and the
inspector with their wives and children were present. As a matter
of fact, the students were orderly and quiet--some of them crossed
themselves absently, with their thoughts far away from the church,
others prayed diligently. Only very rarely did one of them whisper
to his neighbour--two or three words perhaps, without turning their
heads, and the other always replied as briefly and quietly, sometimes
with no more than a quick movement, a look, a shrug or a smile. But
these insignificant movements, unnoticed by the form master, aroused an
illusion of great disorder in Peredonov's dull, perturbed mind. Even
in his tranquil moments Peredonov, like all coarse people, could not
appraise small incidents: either he did not notice them at all or he
exaggerated their importance. Now that he was agitated by expectations,
his perceptions served him even worse, and little by little the whole
reality became obscured before him by a thin smoke of detestable and
evil illusions.
And after all, what were the students to Peredonov even earlier? Were
they not merely an apparatus for the spreading of ink and paper by
means of the pen, and for the retelling in ready-made language what
had been said before in live human speech! In his whole educational
career Peredonov never for a moment reflected that the students were
the same human beings as grown-ups. Only bearded students with awakened
inclinations towards women suddenly became in his eyes equal to himself.
After he had stood behind the boys for some time and gathered enough
of depressing reflections, Peredonov moved forward toward the middle
rows. There, on the very edge, to the right, stood Sasha Pilnikov;
he was praying earnestly and often went down on his knees. Peredonov
watched him, and it gave him pleasure to see Sasha on his knees like
one chastised, and looking before him at the resplendent altar with
a concerned and appealing expression on his face; with entreaty and
sadness in his black eyes shaded by long intensely black eyelashes.
Smooth-faced and graceful, his chest standing out broad and high as he
rested there, calm and erect on his knees, as if under some sternly
observing eye, he appeared at that moment to Peredonov altogether like
a girl.
Peredonov now decided to go directly after Vespers to Pilnikov's rooms.
They began to leave the church. It was noticed that Peredonov no longer
wore a hat but a cap with a badge. Routilov asked laughingly:
"Ardalyon Borisitch, how is that you're strolling about with your badge
nowadays? That comes of having an inspectorship in view."
"Will the soldiers have to salute you now?" asked Valeria with
pretended ingenuousness.
"What nonsense!" said Peredonov angrily.
"You don't understand, Valerotchka," said Darya. "Why do you say
soldiers! But Ardalyon Borisitch will get a great deal more respect
from his pupils now than before."
Liudmilla laughed. Peredonov made haste to take leave of them in order
to get away from their sarcasms.
It was too early to go to Pilnikov and he had no desire to go home.
Peredonov walked about the dark streets wondering how he could waste
an hour. There were many houses, and lights shone from many windows,
sometimes voices could be heard from the open windows. The church-goers
walked in the streets, and gates and doors could be heard opening and
shutting. All around lived people, strange and hostile to Peredonov,
and it was possible that at this very moment some of them were devising
evil against him. Perhaps someone was wondering why he walked alone
at this late hour and where he was going. It seemed to Peredonov that
someone was following him stealthily. He began to feel depressed. He
walked on hurriedly and aimlessly.
He thought that every house here had its dead. And that all who lived
in the old houses fifty years ago were now dead. Some of the dead he
still remembered.
When a man dies his house should be burnt afterwards, thought Peredonov
dejectedly, because it makes one feel horribly.
* * * * *
Olga Vassilyevna Kokovkina, with whom Sasha Pilnikov lived, was a
paymaster's widow. Her husband had left her a pension and a small
house, which was sufficiently large to accommodate two or three
lodgers, but she gave preference to students. It so happened that
the quietest boys were always placed at her house, those who studied
diligently and completed their courses. At other students' lodgings
there were a considerable number of boys who went from one school to
another and always left their studies unfinished.
Olga Vassilyevna, a lean, tall and erect old woman with a good-natured
face, to which, however, she tried to give a stern expression; and
Sasha Pilnikov, a well-fed youngster, carefully trained by his aunt,
sat at the supper table. That evening it was Sasha's turn to supply
the jam, which he had bought in the village, and therefore he felt as
if he were the host and ceremoniously attended to Olga Vassilyevna,
and his black eyes shone brightly. A ring at the door was heard--and a
moment afterwards Peredonov appeared in the dining-room. Kokovkina was
astonished at such a late visit.
"I've come to take a look at our pupil," he said, "and to see how he
lives."
Kokovkina asked Peredonov to take some refreshment, but he refused.
He wanted them to finish their supper, so that he could be alone with
his pupil. They finished their supper and went into Sasha's room, but
Kokovkina did not leave them and talked incessantly. Peredonov looked
morosely at Sasha, who was timidly silent.
"Nothing will come of this visit," thought Peredonov with annoyance.
The maid-servant for some reason or other called out for Kokovkina.
Sasha looked dejectedly after her. His eyes grew dull, they were
covered by his eyelashes--and it seemed that these eyelashes, which
were very long, threw a shadow on his smooth and suddenly pallid face.
He felt uneasy in the presence of this morose man. Peredonov sat down
beside him, put his arm awkwardly around him and without altering the
immobile expression on his face asked:
"Well, Sashenka, has the little girl said her prayers yet?"
Sasha, shamefaced and frightened, looked at Peredonov and was silent.
"Well? Eh?" asked Peredonov.
"Yes," said Sasha at last.
"What red cheeks you've got," said Peredonov. "Well--a--you are a
little girl? Yes? A girl, you rogue!"
"No, I'm not a girl," said Sasha, and suddenly angry at his own
timidity, he asked in a shrill voice, "How am I like a girl? That's
the fault of your students who try to tease me, because I don't say
nasty words; I'm not used to saying them. Why should I say them?"
"Will Mamma punish you?" asked Peredonov.
"I have no mother," said Sasha. "My mother died long ago. I have only
an aunt."
"Well then, will Aunt punish you?"
"Of course she'll punish me if I use nasty words. It isn't nice, is it?"
"And how will your aunt know?"
"I don't like it myself," said Sasha quietly. "And there are several
ways Aunt may find out. I might give myself away."
"And which of your companions say nasty words?" asked Peredonov.
Sasha again blushed and was silent.
"Well, go on," insisted Peredonov. "You've got to tell me. You mustn't
conceal things."
"No one says them," said Sasha in confusion.
"But you yourself just complained."
"I did not complain."
"Why do you deny it?" said Peredonov angrily.
Sasha felt himself caught in a detestable trap. He said:
"I only explained to you why some of my companions tease me with being
a girl. But I didn't want to tell tales about them."
"So that's it. And why so?" asked Peredonov indignantly.
"It isn't nice," said Sasha with an annoyed smile.
"Well, I shall speak to the Head-Master and he'll make you tell," said
Peredonov spitefully.
Sasha looked at Peredonov with anger in his eyes.
"No, please don't tell him, Ardalyon Borisitch," he entreated.
And from the agitated tones of his voice it could be perceived that he
tried to entreat but that he wanted to shout fierce, insulting words.
"No, I'll tell. Then you'll see whether you can hide nasty things. You
should have complained of them at once. But just wait, you'll get it."
Sasha rose and in confusion he shifted his belt. Kokovkina entered.
"Your quiet one is a good boy, I must say," said Peredonov malignantly.
Kokovkina was frightened. She quickly walked up to Sasha and sat down
at his side--in her agitation she always stumbled--and asked timorously:
"What's the matter, Ardalyon Borisitch? What has he done?"
"You'd better ask him," replied Peredonov with morose spite.
"What is it, Sashenka? What have you done?" asked Kokovkina, touching
Sasha's elbow.
"I don't know," said Sasha and began to cry.
"Well, what's the matter? What is it? Why are you crying?" asked
Kokovkina.
She laid her hands on the boy's shoulders and pulled him towards her;
she did not notice that this disturbed him further. He stood there,
stooping, and kept his handkerchief to his eyes. Peredonov explained:
"He's being taught nasty words in the _gymnasia_ and he won't say who
it is. He oughtn't to conceal things. He not only learns nasty words
himself but he shields the other boys."
"Oh, Sashenka, Sashenka. How could you do it? Aren't you ashamed?" said
Kokovkina in a flustered way, as she released Sasha.
"I did nothing," replied Sasha, crying. "I did nothing that was wrong.
Indeed, they tease me because I don't use bad words."
"Who says bad words?" asked Peredonov again.
"No one says them," exclaimed Sasha in despair.
"There, you see how he lies?" said Peredonov. "He ought to be well
punished. He must tell the truth as to who says these nasty words,
because our _gymnasia_ might get a bad name and we could do nothing
against it."
"You had better let him go, Ardalyon Borisitch," said Kokovkina. "How
can he inform against his companions? They'd make his life unbearable
if he did."
"He's obliged to tell," said Peredonov angrily. "Because it would be
very useful. We will take measures to stop it."
"But they'll beat him," said Kokovkina irresolutely.
"They won't dare. If he's afraid, then let him tell in secret."
"Well, Sashenka, tell in secret. No one will know that it's you."
Sasha cried silently. Kokovkina drew him to her, embraced him, and for
a long time whispered in his ear, but he shook his head negatively.
"He doesn't want to," said Kokovkina.
"Try a birch on him, then he'll talk," said Peredonov savagely. "Bring
me a birch, I'll make him talk."
"Olga Vassilyevna! But why?" exclaimed Sasha. Kokovkina rose and
embraced him.
"That's enough crying," she said gently but sternly, "no one shall
touch you."
"As you like," said Peredonov. "But I must tell the Head-Master.
I thought it might have been better to keep at home. Perhaps your
Sashenka really knows more than he'll tell. We don't know yet why he's
teased with being a girl--perhaps it's for something else entirely.
Perhaps it's not he who's being taught, but he who's corrupting others."
Peredonov left the room angrily. Kokovkina followed him. She said
reproachfully:
"Ardalyon Borisitch, how can you worry a boy for I don't know what?
It's as well that he doesn't understand what you say."
"Well, good-bye," said Peredonov angrily. "But I shall tell the
Head-Master. This must be investigated."
He left. Kokovkina went to console Sasha. Sasha sat gloomily at his
window and looked at the starry sky. His black eyes were now tranquil
and strangely sad. Kokovkina silently stroked his head.
"It's my fault," he said. "I told him why they were teasing me and he
wouldn't let it drop. He's a very coarse man. Not one of the students
likes him."
* * * * *
The next day Peredonov and Varvara moved into their new house. Ershova
stood at the gate and exchanged violently abusive words with Varvara.
Peredonov hid himself behind the furniture vans.
As soon as they got in they had their new house blessed. It was
necessary, according to Peredonov's calculations, to show that he was
one of the faithful. During this ceremony the fumes of incense made his
head dizzy and induced in him a religious mood.
One strange circumstance puzzled him. There came running from
somewhere a strange indescribable creature--a small, grey and nimble
_nedotikomka._[1] It nodded, and it trembled, and circled round
Peredonov. When he stretched out his hand to catch it, it glided
swiftly out of sight, hid itself behind the door or the sideboard, but
reappeared a moment later, and trembled and mocked again--the grey,
featureless, nimble creature.
At last when the blessing was over Peredonov, suspecting something,
repeated a charm in a whisper. The nedotikomka hissed very, very
quietly, shrivelled into a little ball and rolled away behind the door.
Peredonov gave a sigh of relief.
"Yes, it's good that it has rolled away altogether, but it's possible
that it lives in this house somewhere under the floor and will come out
again to mock at me."
Peredonov felt cold and depressed.
"What's the use of all these unclean demons in the world?" he thought.
When the ceremony was over and the visitors gone Peredonov thought a
longtime as to where the nedotikomka could have hidden itself. Varvara
left with Grushina, and Peredonov began to search and rummage among her
things.
"I wonder if Varvara carried it away in her pocket," thought Peredonov.
"It doesn't need much room. It could hide in a pocket and stay there
until its time comes to show itself."
One of Varvara's dresses attracted Peredonov's attention. It was
made up of flounces, bows and ribbons, as if made purposely to hide
something. Peredonov examined it for a long time, then by force and
with the help of a knife he partly tore, partly cut away, the pocket
and threw it on the stove, and then began to tear and cut the whole
dress into small pieces. Strange, confused thoughts wandered through
his brain and his soul felt hopelessly gloomy.
Soon Varvara returned--Peredonov was still cutting the remains of the
dress into shreds. She thought he was drunk and began to abuse him.
Peredonov listened for a long time and said at last:
"What are you barking at, fool! Perhaps you're carrying a devil in your
pocket. I must think about it and see what's going on here."
Varvara was taken aback. Gratified by the impression he had produced,
he made haste to find his cap and went out to play billiards. Varvara
ran out into the passage and while Peredonov was putting on his
overcoat she shouted:
"It's you, perhaps, who're carrying the devil in your pocket, but I
haven't got any kind of devil. Where should I get your devil? Shall I
order one for you from Holland?"
* * * * *
The young official, Cherepnin, the man about whom Vershina had told the
story of his looking into the window, had paid attentions to her when
she first became a widow. Vershina did not object to marrying a second
time but Cherepnin seemed to her utterly worthless. Therefore he felt
maliciously towards her.
With great delight he fell in with Volodin's suggestion of smearing
Vershina's gate with tar.
He agreed, but later he felt some qualms. Suppose they should catch
him? It would be awkward; after all he was an official. He decided to
shift the matter on to other shoulders. He bribed two young scapegraces
with a quarter of a rouble and promised them another fifteen kopecks
each if they would get it done--if they would do it one dark night.
If anyone in Vershina's house had opened the window after midnight he
might have heard the rustle of light feet on the wood pavement, a quiet
whispering and certain soft sounds giving the impression that the fence
was being swept; then a slight clinking, a fast pattering of feet,
going faster and faster, distant laughing and the angry barking of dogs.
But no one opened the window. And in the morning ... the gate and the
fence between the garden and the yard were covered with yellow-cinnamon
coloured tar. Indecent words were written in tar on the gates.
Passers-by stopped and laughed. The word soon went round and many
inquisitive people came.
Vershina walked about quickly in the garden and smoked; her smile was
even more wry than usual and she mumbled angrily. Marta did not leave
her room and wept bitterly. The maid-servant Marya tried to wash off
the tar and some words of abuse passed between her and the onlookers,
who were laughing uproariously. That same day Cherepnin told Volodin
what he had done. Volodin wasted no time in telling Peredonov. Both of
them knew the boys, who were well-known for their daring pranks.
Peredonov on his way to billiards stopped at Vershina's. The weather
was gloomy, so Vershina and Marta sat in the drawing-room.
"Your gates have been smeared with tar," said Peredonov.
Marta blushed. Vershina quickly related how they had got up in the
morning and saw people laughing at the gate and how Marya had washed
the fence.
"I know who did it," said Peredonov.
Vershina looked questioningly at Peredonov.
"How did you find out?" she asked.
"I found out all right."
"Tell us then who did it," said Marta crossly.
She had become altogether unattractive because she now had tear-stained
eyes with red swollen eyelids. Peredonov replied:
"Of course I'll tell you--I've come for that reason. Such impertinent
fellows ought to be punished. But you must promise not to say who told
you."
"But why, Ardalyon Borisitch?" asked Vershina in astonishment.
Peredonov kept significantly silent. Then he said in explanation:
"They're such dare-devils that they might break my head if they found
I'd given them away."
Vershina promised.
"And don't you tell either," said Peredonov to Marta.
"Very well, I won't tell," Marta agreed quickly because she wanted to
know as quickly as possible who had done it.
She thought they ought to be made to suffer a cruel and ignominious
punishment.
"No, you'd better swear," said Peredonov cautiously.
"Well, honest to God, I won't tell anyone," said Marta, trying to
convince him. "But tell us quickly."
Vladya was listening behind the door. He was glad that he had not
thought of going into the drawing-room: he would not be compelled to
promise and he could tell it to anyone he liked. And he smiled with
delight to think that he would be avenged on Peredonov.
"Last night, about one o'clock, I was going home along your street,"
began Peredonov, "and I heard someone moving by your gate. I thought
at first it was thieves. 'What shall I do?' I thought, when suddenly
I heard them running straight towards me. I pressed close against the
wall and they didn't see me, but I recognised them. One had a brush and
the other had a pail. They're well-known rascals, the sons of Avdeyev,
the blacksmith. They ran, and I heard one say to the other: 'We haven't
wasted the night,' he said, 'we've earned fifty-five kopecks.' I wanted
to catch one of them but I was afraid they would smear my face, and
besides I had a new overcoat on."
* * * * *
No sooner had Peredonov gone than Vershina went to the Commissioner of
Police with a complaint. The Commissioner, Minchukov, sent a constable
for Avdeyev and his sons.
The boys came boldly, thinking they were suspected on account of
previous pranks. Avdeyev, a tall dejected old man, was, on the other
hand, fully convinced that his sons were guilty of some fresh mischief.
The Commissioner told Avdeyev of what his sons were accused, and
Avdeyev replied:
"I can't control them. Do what you like with them. I've already hurt my
hands beating them."
"It's not our doing," announced the elder boy Nil, who had curly red
hair.
"No matter who does a thing we're blamed for it," said Ilya the
younger, whose hair was also curly but white. "We've once done
something and now we have to answer for everything."
Minchukov smiled amiably, shook his head and said:
"You'd better make a clean breast of it."
"There's nothing to confess," said Nil.
"Nothing? Who gave you fifty-five kopecks for your work, eh?"
And seeing from the boys' momentary confusion that they were guilty,
Minchukov said to Vershina:
"It's obvious that they did it."
The boys renewed their denials. They were taken into a small room and
whipped. Not being able to endure the pain, they confessed. But even
then they were unwilling to say who had given them the money.
"We did it on our own," they said.
They were whipped again until they confessed that Cherepnin had given
them the money. The boys were then turned over to their father.
"Well, we've punished them--that is their father punished them," said
the Commissioner to Vershina, "and now you know who's responsible."
"I won't let that Cherepnin off easily," said Vershina. "I'll prosecute
him."
"I shouldn't advise you to, Natalya Afanasyevna," said Minchukov
abruptly. "You'd better let the thing drop."
"What! Let such wretches go! No, never!" exclaimed Vershina.
"After all, you have had no real proof," said the Commissioner quietly.
"What do you mean by no proof, when the boys themselves have confessed
it?"
"That doesn't count, they might deny it before the judge and there'd be
no one to flog them there."
"How can they deny it? There are the constables who were witnesses,"
said Vershina confidently.
"Where are your witnesses? When you beat a man he'll confess anything,
even something that never happened. They're rascals, of course, and
they got what they deserved. But you'll get nothing out of them in
court."
Minchukov smiled and looked calmly at Vershina.
Vershina left the Commissioner very dissatisfied, but after reflection
admitted to herself that it was difficult to accuse Cherepnin, and that
only publicity and scandal would come of it.
[1] _nedotikomka_, an invention of the author. The word means "the
touch-me-not-creature." It is presumably an elemental, a symbol of the
evil of the world. Sologub begins one of his poems--
"The grey Nedotikomka
Wriggles and turns, round and round me...."