In the evening Peredonov went to the Club--he had been invited to
play cards. Goudayevsky, the notary, was also there. Peredonov was
frightened when he saw him, but Goudayevsky conducted himself quietly
and Peredonov felt reassured.
They played a long time and drank a good deal. Late at night in the
refreshment room Goudayevsky ran up to Peredonov and without any
explanation hit him several times in the face, broke his glasses and
quickly left the Club. Peredonov showed no resistance, pretended he was
drunk, then fell to the floor, and began to grunt. They shook him and
carried him home.
The next day the whole town was talking about this scuffle.
That same evening Varvara found an opportunity to steal the first
forged letter from Peredonov. Grushina had insisted on this so that no
discrepancies might be found by comparing the two forgeries. Peredonov
carried this letter about with him, but on this evening he happened to
leave it at home: while changing into his dress clothes, he had taken
the letter from his pocket, put it under a text-book on the chest of
drawers and promptly forgotten it. Varvara burnt it over a candle at
Grushina's.
When Peredonov returned home late that night and Varvara saw his broken
spectacles, he told her that they had burst of themselves. She believed
him and imagined that it was all the fault of Volodin's evil tongue.
Peredonov also persuaded himself that it was due to Volodin. The next
day, however, Grushina told Varvara the details of the scuffle at the
Club.
In the morning, when dressing, Peredonov suddenly remembered the
letter, looked for it unavailingly, and felt terrified. He shouted in a
savage voice:
"Varvara! Where's that letter?"
Varvara was disconcerted.
"What letter?" she asked, looking at Peredonov with frightened eyes.
"The Princess's!" shouted Peredonov.
Varvara somehow collected herself.
She said with an impudent smile:
"How should I know where it is? You must have thrown it among the waste
paper and Klavdiushka has probably burnt it. You'd better look in your
pockets for it, if it's still to be found."
Peredonov went to the _gymnasia_ in a gloomy state of mind. Yesterday's
unpleasantness came into his mind. He thought of Kramarenko: how did
this impudent boy dare to call him a scoundrel? That meant that he was
not afraid of Peredonov. Perhaps the boy knew something about him and
would inform against him.
In class Kramarenko stared at Peredonov and smiled, which terrified
Peredonov even more. After the third class, Peredonov was again called
to see the Head-Master. He went, vaguely apprehending something
unpleasant.
Rumours of Peredonov's doings reached Khripatch from all sides. That
morning he had been told about last night's occurrence at the Club.
Yesterday, also, after lessons, Volodya Boultyakov had come to see
him--the boy who had been punished by his landlady at Peredonov's
request. To prevent a repetition of this visit with similar
consequences the boy complained to the Head-Master.
In a dry, sharp voice Khripatch repeated to Peredonov the reports that
had reached him--from reliable sources, he added--of how Peredonov
had been going to his students' homes giving their parents and
guardians false information about the children's conduct and progress,
demanding that the boys should be whipped, in consequence of which
certain disagreeable incidents had occurred among the parents, as, for
instance, last night's affair at the Club with the notary Goudayevsky.
Peredonov listened fearfully and yet irritatedly. Khripatch was silent.
"What of that?" said Peredonov in a surly voice. "It was he who struck
me. Is that the way to behave? He had no right to fly into my face. He
doesn't go to church. He believes in a monkey and he's corrupting his
son into the same sect. He ought to be reported--he's a Socialist."
Khripatch listened attentively to Peredonov and said insinuatingly:
"All this is not our affair, and I don't understand at all what
you mean by the original expression 'he believes in a monkey.' In
my opinion there's no need to enrich the history of religion with
newly-devised cults. As for the affront you received, you ought to have
brought him before a court of magistrates. But the very best thing for
you to do, is to leave the school. This would be the best way out for
you personally and for the _gymnasia_."
"I shall be an inspector," said Peredonov angrily.
"But until then," continued Khripatch, "you should restrain yourself
from these extraordinary visits. You will agree that such conduct is
unbecoming to a schoolmaster, and it loses the master his dignity in
the eyes of his pupils. To go about from house to house, whipping young
boys--this you must agree ..."
Khripatch did not finish, and merely shrugged his shoulders.
"But after all," said Peredonov, "I did it for their good."
"Please don't let us argue about it," Khripatch interrupted him
sharply. "I request you most emphatically not to let this happen again."
Peredonov looked angrily at the Head-Master.
That evening they decided to have a house-warming. They invited all
their acquaintances. Peredonov walked about the rooms to see that
everything was in order and that there was nothing which could be the
cause of his being informed against. He thought:
"Well, everything seems all right--there are no forbidden books
visible, the ikon-lamps are alight, the Royal portraits are hanging in
the place of honour on the wall."
Suddenly Mickiewicz winked at him from the wall.
"He might get me into trouble," thought Peredonov in fear. "I'd better
take the portrait and put it in the privy and bring Pushkin back here."
"After all Pushkin was a courtier," he thought, as he hung the portrait
on the dining-room wall.
Then he remembered that they would play cards in the evening, so he
decided to examine the cards. He took the opened pack of cards which
had only been used once and looked through them as if he were trying to
find something. The faces of the court cards did not please him--they
had such big eyes.
Latterly when he was playing it seemed to him that the cards smiled
like Varvara. Even the ordinary six of spades had an insolent and
unfriendly look.
Peredonov gathered together all the cards he had and put out the eyes
of all the kings, queens and knaves, so that they should not stare at
him. He did this first with the cards that had already been used, and
afterwards he unsealed the new packs. He did this with furtive glances
around him, as if he were afraid that he would be detected. Luckily
for him, Varvara was busy in the kitchen and did not come into the
rooms,--how could she leave such an abundance of eatables: Klavdia
might help herself. When she wanted anything from one of the rooms, she
sent Klavdia. Each time Klavdia came into the room, Peredonov trembled,
hid the scissors in his pocket and pretended that he was dealing the
cards for patience. While Peredonov was in this way depriving the
kings and queens of any possibility of their irritating him with their
stares, an unpleasantness was approaching him from another side. The
hat, which Peredonov had thrown on the stove of his former house in
order to keep from wearing it, had been found by Ershova. She suspected
that the hat had not been left there by a simple accident: her former
tenants detested her and it was likely, Ershova thought, that they
had put a spell in the hat which would prevent others from taking
the house. In fear and vexation she took the hat to a sorceress. The
latter looked at the hat, whispered something over it mysteriously and
severely, spat to each of the four quarters and said to Ershova:
"They've done you some harm and you ought to pay them back. A strong
sorcerer has made the spell, but I am more cunning and I will outdo him
and I'll get the better of him."
And for a long time she recited her spells over the hat, and having
received generous gifts from Ershova she told her that she was to give
the hat to a young man with red hair, and that he should take it to
Peredonov's house, give it to the first person he met there and then
run away without turning round.
As it happened, the first red-haired boy whom Ershova met was one of
the locksmith's sons, who had a grudge against Peredonov for revealing
their nocturnal prank. He took with great satisfaction the five-kopeck
piece Ershova gave him, and on the way he spat zealously into the
hat on his own account. He met Varvara herself in the dark hall of
Peredonov's house. He stuck the hat into her hand and ran away so
quickly that Varvara had not time to recognise him.
Peredonov had barely time enough to blind the last knave, when Varvara
entered his room, astonished and rather frightened, and said in a
trembling voice:
"Ardalyon Borisitch! Look at this!"
Peredonov looked and almost fell over in his terror. The very hat which
he had tried to get rid of was now in Varvara's hands, all crumpled
up, dusty, with scarcely a trace of its former magnificence. He asked,
panting with fear:
"Where did it come from?"
Varvara recounted in a frightened voice how she had received the hat
from a nimble boy who seemed to rise from the ground in front of her
and then vanish into it again. She said:
"It must be Ershikha. She has thrown a spell on to your hat. There
can't be any doubt about it."
Peredonov mumbled something incoherent, and his teeth chattered with
fear. Gloomy fears and forebodings tormented him. He walked up and down
frowning and the grey nedotikomka ran under the chairs and sniggered.
The guests arrived early. They brought many tarts, apples and pears to
the house warming. Varvara accepted everything gladly, saying, merely
from politeness:
"Why did you take the trouble to bring such lovely things?"
But if she thought that someone had brought something poor or cheap she
felt angry. She was also displeased when two guests brought the same
thing.
They lost no time, but sat down at once to play cards. They played
stoukolka.
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Grushina suddenly. "I've got a blind king!"
"And my queen has no eyes," said Prepolovenskaya, examining her cards.
"And the knave too!"
The guests laughingly examined their cards. Prepolovensky said:
"I wondered why these cards kept catching each other. That's the
reason. I kept feeling. Why is it, I thought, that they have such rough
backs? Now I see it comes from these little holes. That's it--it's the
backs that are rough!"
Everyone laughed except Peredonov, who looked morose. Varvara said with
a smile:
"You know my Ardalyon Borisitch has strange whims. He's always thinking
of different tricks."
"Why did you do it?" asked Routilov with a loud laugh.
"Why should they have eyes?" said Peredonov morosely. "They don't need
to see!"
Everyone roared with laughter, but Peredonov remained morose and
silent. It seemed to him that the blinded figures were making wry
faces, mocking at him and winking with the gaping little holes in their
eyes.
"Perhaps," thought Peredonov, "they've managed to learn to see with
their noses."
He had bad luck, as he nearly always did, and it seemed to him that
the faces of the kings, queens and knaves expressed spite and mockery;
the queen of spades even gritted her teeth, evidently enraged by his
blinding her. Finally, after a heavy loss, Peredonov seized the pack of
cards and in his rage began to tear them to shreds. The guests roared
with laughter. Varvara said with a smile:
"He's always like that--whenever he takes a drop he always does strange
things."
"You mean when he's drunk," said Prepolovenskaya spitefully. "Do you
hear, Ardalyon Borisitch, what your cousin thinks of you?"
Varvara flushed and said angrily:
"Why do you twist my words?"
Prepolovenskaya smiled and was silent.
A new pack of cards was produced in place of the torn pack, and the
game was continued.
Suddenly a crash was heard--a pane of glass was broken and a stone
fell on the floor near Peredonov. Under the window could be heard a
whispering, laughter and then quickly receding footsteps. Everyone
jumped from his place in alarm; the women screamed--as they always do.
They picked up the stone and examined it fearfully; no one ventured
near the window--they first sent Klavdia into the street, and only when
she came back, saying that the street was deserted, did they examine
the broken window.
Volodin suggested that the stone had been thrown by some schoolboys.
His guess seemed a likely one, and everyone looked significantly at
Peredonov. Peredonov frowned and mumbled something incoherently. The
guests began to talk of the boys of the place, remarking how impudent
and wild they were.
It was, of course, not the schoolboys, but the locksmith's sons.
"The Head-Master put the boys up to it," announced Peredonov suddenly,
"he's always trying to pick a quarrel with me. He's thought of this to
annoy me."
"Well, that _is_ a fine idea," shouted Routilov with a loud laugh.
Everyone laughed.
Grushina alone said:
"Well, what do you expect? He's such a poisonous man. Anything might be
expected of him. He doesn't do it himself, but puts his sons up to it."
"It doesn't make any difference that they're aristocrats," bleated
Volodin in an injured tone. "Anything might be expected from
aristocrats."
Many of the guests then began to think that perhaps it was time they
stopped laughing.
"You seem to have bad luck with glass, Ardalyon Borisitch," said
Routilov. "First your spectacles were broken and now they've smashed
your window."
This evoked a new outburst of laughter.
"Broken windows mean long life," said Prepolovenskaya with a restrained
smile.
When Peredonov and Varvara were going to bed that night, it seemed to
him that Varvara had something evil in her mind; he took from her the
knives and forks and hid them under the mattress. He mumbled in a slow,
dull way:
"I know you: as soon as you marry me you'll inform against me in order
to get rid of me. You'll get a pension and I'll be in Petropavlosk jail
working on the treadmill."
That night Peredonov's mind wandered. Dim, terrible figures walked
about noiselessly, kings and knaves, swinging their sceptres. They
whispered to each other, tried to hide from Peredonov, and stealthily
crept towards him under the pillow. But soon they grew bolder and
began to walk and run and stir around Peredonov everywhere, upon the
floor, upon the bed, upon the pillows. They whispered, they mocked at
Peredonov, thrust out their tongues at him, made terrible grimaces
before him, stretching out their mouths into deformed shapes. Peredonov
saw that they were little and mischievous, that they would not kill
him, but were only deriding him, and foreboding evil. But he felt a
terrible fear--now he muttered exorcisms, fragments of spells he had
heard in his childhood, now he began to curse them and to drive them
from him, waving his arms and shouting in a hoarse voice.
Varvara woke and called out irately:
"What are you making such a row about, Ardalyon Borisitch? You won't
let me sleep."
"The queen of spades is annoying me. She's got a quilted capote on,"
mumbled Peredonov.
Varvara rose, grumbling and cursing, and gave Peredonov some medicine.
* * * * *
In the local district newspaper a short article appeared recounting how
a certain Madame K. whipped schoolboys who lived in her house--sons of
the best local gentry. The notary, Goudayevsky, carried this news over
the whole town and waxed indignant.
And various other absurd rumours about the local _gymnasia_ went
through the town: they talked about the girl who was dressed up as a
schoolboy, later the name of Pilnikov came gradually to be mentioned
with Liudmilla's. Sasha's companions began to tease him about his love
for Liudmilla. At first he regarded their jests lightly, but later he
would sometimes get indignant and defend Liudmilla, trying to convince
them that nothing of the sort had happened.
This made him ashamed to go to Liudmilla, and yet it drew him more
strongly to her: confused, burning feelings of shame and attraction
agitated him and vaguely passionate visions filled his imagination.