The Prepolovenskys undertook the arrangement of the wedding. It was
decided that they should be married in a village six versts from the
town. Varvara felt uneasy about marrying in the town, after they had
lived together so many years as relatives. The day fixed for the
wedding was concealed. The Prepolovenskys spread a rumour that it was
to take place on Friday, but it was really to be on Wednesday. They did
it to prevent curiosity seekers from coming to the wedding. Varvara
more than once said to Peredonov:
"Ardalyon Borisitch, don't you say a word of when the wedding is to be
or they might hinder us."
Peredonov gave the expenses for the wedding unwillingly and with
humiliations for Varvara. Sometimes he brought his stick with the
Koukish head and said to Varvara:
"Kiss the Koukish and I'll give you the money. If you don't, I won't."
Varvara kissed the Koukish.
"What of that, it won't split my lips," she said.
The date of the wedding was kept secret even from the bride's-men until
the day itself, so that they might not chatter about it. At first
Routilov and Volodin were invited as bride's-men and both eagerly
accepted; Routilov looked for an amusing experience, while Volodin felt
flattered to play such an important role at such a distinguished event
in the life of such an esteemed personage. Then Peredonov considered
that one bride's-man was not enough for him. He said:
"Varvara, you can have one, but I must have two. One isn't enough for
me--it will be difficult to hold the crown[1] over me. I'm a tall man."
And Peredonov invited Falastov as his second bride's-man.
Varvara grumbled:
"To the devil with him! We've got two, why should we have any more?"
"He's got gold spectacles. He'll look important," said Peredonov.
On the morning of the wedding Peredonov washed in hot water, as he
always did, to avoid catching cold, and then demanded rouge, explaining:
"Now I have to rouge myself every day or else they'll think I'm getting
old and they won't appoint me as inspector."
Varvara disliked giving him any of her rouge, but she had to yield--and
Peredonov coloured his cheeks. He muttered:
"Veriga himself paints so as to look younger. You don't expect me to
get married with white cheeks."
Then, shutting himself in his bedroom, he decided to mark himself, so
that Volodin could not change places with him. On his chest, on his
stomach, on his forearms and in various other places he marked in ink
the letter "P".
"Volodin ought to be marked too. But how can he be? He would see it and
rub it off," thought Peredonov dejectedly.
Then a new thought came into his mind--to put on a pair of corsets so
that he should not be taken for an old man if he happened to bend over.
He asked Varvara for a pair of corsets, but Varvara's corsets proved to
be too tight--they would not come together.
"They ought to have been bought earlier," he said savagely. "You never
think of anything in time."
"What man wears corsets?" said Varvara. "No one does."
"Veriga does," said Peredonov.
"Yes, Veriga is an old man, but you, Ardalyon Borisitch, thank God, are
in your prime."
Peredonov smiled with self-satisfaction, looked in the mirror and said:
"Of course, I shall live another hundred and fifty years."
The cat sneezed under the bed. Varvara said with a smile:
"There, even the cat's sneezing! That shows it's true."
But Peredonov suddenly frowned. The cat now aroused dread in him and
its sneezing seemed to him a sign of ominous cunning.
"He'll sneeze something that's not wanted," he thought, and got under
the bed and began to drive the cat out. The cat mewed savagely, pressed
against the wall, and suddenly with a loud, piercing mew, jumped
between Peredonov's hands and ran out of the room.
"A Dutch devil," Peredonov abused the animal savagely.
"He's certainly a devil," affirmed Varvara. "He's become altogether
wild. He won't let himself be stroked, as if the devil had got into
him."
The Prepolovenskys sent for the bride's-men early in the morning. At
ten o'clock all had gathered at Peredonov's. Grushina also came, and
Sofya with her husband. They were handed vodka and the usual _zakouska._
Peredonov ate little and thought dejectedly as to how he could
distinguish himself from Volodin.
"He's curled like a sheep," he thought maliciously, and suddenly
imagined that he too might comb his hair in a special way. He rose from
the table and said:
"You go on eating and drinking--I don't object; but I'll go to the
hairdresser and I'll have my hair done in the Spanish style."
"What is the Spanish style?" asked Routilov.
"Wait and you'll see."
When Peredonov went to get his hair trimmed, Varvara said:
"He's always inventing new notions. He sees devils. If he only drank
less gin, the cursed tippler!"
Prepolovenskaya said with a sly smile:
"Well, as soon as you are married, Ardalyon Borisitch will get his
place and settle down."
Grushina sniggered. She was amused by the secrecy of this wedding, and
she was excited by an intense desire to create an ignominious spectacle
of some sort and yet not be mixed up with it. On the day before she
had whispered in an underhand way to her friends the place and hour of
the wedding. And early that morning she had called in the blacksmith's
younger son, had given him a five-kopeck piece, and hinted to him that
towards evening he should wait outside the town where the newly married
couple would pass, to throw rubbish at them. The boy gladly agreed and
gave his sworn promise not to betray her. Grushina reminded him:
"You did give away Cherepnin when they beat you."
"We were fools," said the boy. "Now, let 'em hang us and we won't tell."
And the boy, in confirmation of his oath, ate a small handful of loam.
For this Grushina added another three kopecks.
At the hairdresser's Peredonov demanded the barber himself. The barber,
a young man who had lately finished a course at the town school and
who had read books from the rural library, was just finishing cutting
the hair of a landed proprietor. When he had finished, he came up to
Peredonov.
"Let him go first," said Peredonov angrily.
The man paid and left. Peredonov sat down in front of the mirror.
"I want my hair trimmed and properly arranged," said he. "I have an
important affair on to-day, something special, and so I want my hair
arranged in the Spanish style."
The boy apprentice, who stood at the door, snorted with amusement.
His master looked sternly at him. He had never had occasion to trim
anyone's hair in Spanish style, and did not know what the Spanish style
was or even if there were such a style. But if the gentleman demanded
such a thing, then it must be assumed that he knew what he wanted.
The young hairdresser did not want to betray his ignorance. He said
respectfully:
"It's impossible to do it with your hair, sir."
"Why impossible?" said Peredonov taken aback.
"Your hair is badly nourished," explained the hairdresser.
"Do you expect me to pour beer over it?" growled Peredonov.
"Excuse me, why beer?" said the hairdresser affably. "When your hair is
trimmed your head shows signs of baldness and what's left isn't enough
to do the thing in the Spanish style."
Peredonov felt himself crushed by the impossibility of having his hair
trimmed in the Spanish style. He said dejectedly:
"Well, cut it as you like."
He began to wonder whether the hairdresser had been persuaded not to
cut his hair in a distinguished style. He ought not to have spoken
about it at home. Evidently, while he was walking gravely and sedately
along the street, Volodin had run like a little sheep by back streets
and had conspired with the hairdresser.
"Would you like a spray, sir?" said the hairdresser, having finished
trimming his hair.
"Spray me with mignonette. The more, the better," demanded Peredonov.
"You might at least make up by spraying me with plenty of mignonette."
"I'm sorry, but we don't keep mignonette," said the hairdresser in
confusion. "How will opopanax do?"
"You can't do anything I want," said Peredonov bitterly. "Go ahead, and
spray me with whatever you've got."
He returned home in vexation. It was a windy day. The gates kept
banging, yawning and laughing in the wind. Peredonov looked at them
dispiritedly. How could he face the drive? But everything arranged
itself.
Three carriages were waiting--they had to sit down and drive away at
once, in order not to attract attention. Many curiosity mongers might
collect and follow them to the wedding, if the carriages waited about
too long. They took their places and drove off: Peredonov with Varvara,
the Prepolovenskys with Routilov, Grushina with the other bride's-men.
A cloud of dust rose in the square. Peredonov heard a noise of axes.
Barely visible through the dust, a wooden wall loomed and grew. They
were building a fortress. Muzhiks, savage and morose-looking, glimmered
in their red shirts through the dust.
The carriages ran past; the terrible vision flashed by and vanished.
Peredonov looked around in terror, but nothing was visible, and he
could not decide to tell anyone about his vision.
A sadness tormented Peredonov the whole way. Everything looked
hostilely at him. The wind blew ominously. The sky was black. The wind
was in their faces and seemed to moan for something. The trees gave no
shadow--they kept their shadows within themselves. But the dust rose, a
long grey, half-transparent serpent. The sun hid behind the clouds--did
it look out from under them?
The road was undulating. Unexpected bushes, copses and fields rose from
behind low hillocks, and streams appeared under the hollow-sounding,
wooden arched bridges.
"The eye-bird flew by," said Peredonov morosely, looking into the
whitish, misty distance of the sky. "One eye and two wings, and nothing
more."
Varvara smiled. She thought that Peredonov had been drunk since the
morning. But she did not argue with him--"for," she thought, "he might
get angry and refuse to go to the wedding."
All four of Routilov's sisters were already in a corner of the church,
hiding behind a column. Peredonov did not see them at first, but later
during the ceremony when they appeared from their ambush and came
forward, he saw them and felt frightened. They actually did not do
anything unpleasant, they did not demand (as he had been afraid at
first) that he should chase Varvara away and take one of them. They
only kept laughing all the time. And their laughter, quiet at first,
resounded louder and more evil in his ears all the time, like the
laughter of untameable furies.
There were practically no outsiders in the church. Only two or three
old women came from somewhere or other. And this was fortunate, for
Peredonov conducted himself curiously and stupidly. He yawned, mumbled,
nudged Varvara, complained about the smell of incense, wax and muzhiks.
"Your sisters are always laughing," he grumbled, turning to Routilov.
"They'll perforate their livers with laughing."
Besides that, the nedotikomka disturbed him. It was dirty and dusty and
kept hiding under the priest's vestments.
Both Varvara and Grushina thought the church ceremonies amusing. They
giggled continuously. The words about a woman cleaving to her husband
evoked special merriment. Routilov also giggled. He considered it
his duty always and everywhere to amuse the ladies. Volodin conducted
himself sedately, and crossed himself, preserving an expression of
profundity on his face. The church ceremonies did not suggest to his
mind anything but that they were an established custom which ought
to be fulfilled, and that the fulfilment of all ceremonies leads one
to a certain inner convenience: he went to church on Sundays, and he
prayed, and was absolved, he had sinned and repented and again he was
absolved. Now this is excellent and convenient--all the more convenient
because once outside the church he did not have to think about churchly
matters, but was guided entirely by quite different and worldly rules.
The ceremony was barely over and they had not yet had time to leave the
church when suddenly a drunken crowd tumbled noisily into the church.
It was Mourin and his friends.
Mourin, dusty and tousled, as usual, embraced Peredonov and shouted:
"You can't hide it from us, old boy! We're such fast friends that you
can't part us by pouring cold water on us. And yet you hid it from us,
you tricky fellow!"
Exclamations came from all sides:
"Villain, you didn't invite us!"
"But we're here all the same!"
"Yes, we found it out without you!"
The new-comers embraced and congratulated Peredonov. Mourin said:
"We missed the way because we stopped for a drink, or else we'd have
conferred the pleasure of our company on you earlier."
Peredonov looked at them gloomily and did not reply to their
congratulations. Malevolence and fear tormented him.
"They're always tracking me everywhere," he thought dejectedly.
"You might have crossed your foreheads," he said angrily. "Or possibly
you were thinking evil against me."
The visitors crossed themselves, laughed and joked. The young officials
especially distinguished themselves. The deacon reproached them.
Among the visitors was a young men with red moustaches whom Peredonov
did not even know. He resembled a cat to an extraordinary degree.
Wasn't it their cat turned into human shape? It was not for nothing
that this young man kept snarling--he had not forgotten his cattish
habits.
"Who told you?" asked Varvara angrily of the new guests.
"A nice young woman told us," replied Mourin. "But we have forgotten
who it was."
Grushina turned around and winked at them. The new guests smiled back
but did not give her away. Mourin said:
"As you like, Ardalyon Borisitch, but we're coming with you and you
must give us champagne. Don't be a skinflint. You can't pour cold water
on such friends as we are, and yet you've tried to get married on the
quiet."
When the Peredonovs returned from the wedding the sun had gone
down, but the sky was all fiery and golden. But this did not please
Peredonov. He growled:
"They've dabbed pieces of gold on the sky and they're falling off. Who
ever saw such a waste!"
The locksmith's sons met them just outside the town in a crowd of other
street boys. They ran alongside and hooted. Peredonov trembled with
fear. Varvara uttered curses, spat at the boys, and showed them the
Koukish. The guests and the bride's-men roared with laughter.
At last they reached home. The entire company tumbled into Peredonov's
house with a shout, a hubbub and whistling. They drank champagne, then
took to vodka and began to play cards. They kept on drinking all
night. Varvara got tipsy, danced, and was happy; Peredonov was also
happy--Volodin had not yet been substituted for him. As always, the
visitors conducted themselves disrespectfully and indecently towards
Varvara; this seemed to her to be in the order of things.
* * * * *
After the wedding the Peredonovs' existence changed very little.
Only Varvara's attitude towards her husband became more assured
and independent. She ran about less for her husband--but, through
deep-rooted habit, she was still a little afraid of him. Peredonov,
also from habit, shouted at her as he used to do and sometimes even
beat her. But he too scented the assurance she had acquired with her
new position. And this depressed him. It seemed to him that if she
was not so afraid of him as she had been, it was because she had
strengthened her criminal idea to leave him and get Volodin into his
place.
"I must be on my guard," he thought.
Varvara triumphed. She, together with her husband, paid visits to the
town ladies, even to those with whom she was little acquainted. At
these visits she showed a ridiculous pride and awkwardness. She was
received everywhere though in many houses with astonishment. Varvara
had ordered in good time for these visits a hat from the best local
modiste. The large vivid flowers set abundantly on the hat delighted
her.
The Peredonovs began their visits with the Head-Master's wife. Then
they went to the wife of the Marshal of the Nobility.
On the day that the Peredonovs had prepared to make the visits--of
which, of course, the Routilovs knew beforehand--the sisters went to
Varvara Nikolayevna Khripatch, to see out of curiosity how Varvara
Peredonov would conduct herself. The Peredonovs soon arrived. Varvara
made a curtsy to the Head-Master's wife, and in a more than usually
jarring voice said:
"Well, we've come to see you. Please love us and be kind to us."
"I'm very glad," replied the Head-Master's wife constrainedly. And she
seated Varvara on the sofa.
Varvara sat down with obvious pleasure in the place indicated, spread
out her rustling green dress, and said, trying to appear at ease:
"I've been a Mam'zell until now, but now I've become a Madam. We're
namesakes--I'm Varvara and you're Varvara--and we've not been to each
other's houses. While I was a Mam'zell, I sat at home most of the time.
What's the good of sitting by one's stove all the time! Now Ardalyon
Borisitch and I will live more socially. Grant me a favour--we will
come to you and you will come to us, Mossure to Mossure and Madame to
Madame."
"But I hear that you're not going to stay here long," said the
Head-Master's wife. "I'm told that you and your husband are going to be
transferred."
"Yes, the paper will come soon and then we shall leave here," replied
Varvara. "But as the paper has not yet come, we must stay here a little
longer and show ourselves."
Varvara had hopes of the inspector's position. After the wedding she
wrote a letter to the Princess. She had not yet received an answer. She
decided to write again at the New Year.
Liudmilla said:
"But we thought, Ardalyon Borisitch, that you were going to marry the
young lady, Pilnikov?"
"What's the good of me marrying anyone else?" said Peredonov. "I need
patronage."
"But how did your affair with Mademoiselle Pilnikov get broken off,"
Liudmilla teased him. "Didn't you pay her attentions? Did she refuse
you?"
"I'll show her up yet," growled Peredonov morosely.
"That's an _idée fixe_ of Ardalyon Borisitch," said the Head-Master's
wife with a dry laugh.
[1] Crowns are held over the bride and bridegroom at Russian weddings
in church.