The wind was beating on the window and on the roof; there was a
whistling sound, and in the stove the house spirit was plaintively
and sullenly droning his song. It was past midnight; everyone in
the house had gone to bed, but no one was asleep, and it seemed all
the while to Nadya as though they were playing the fiddle below.
There was a sharp bang; a shutter must have been torn off. A minute
later Nina Ivanovna came in in her nightgown, with a candle.
"What was the bang, Nadya?" she asked.
Her mother, with her hair in a single plait and a timid smile on
her face, looked older, plainer, smaller on that stormy night. Nadya
remembered that quite a little time ago she had thought her mother
an exceptional woman and had listened with pride to the things she
said; and now she could not remember those things, everything that
came into her mind was so feeble and useless.
In the stove was the sound of several bass voices in chorus, and
she even heard "O-o-o my G-o-od!" Nadya sat on her bed, and suddenly
she clutched at her hair and burst into sobs.
"Mother, mother, my own," she said. "If only you knew what is
happening to me! I beg you, I beseech you, let me go away! I beseech
you!"
"Where?" asked Nina Ivanovna, not understanding, and she sat down
on the bedstead. "Go where?"
For a long while Nadya cried and could not utter a word.
"Let me go away from the town," she said at last. "There must not
and will not be a wedding, understand that! I don't love that man
. . . I can't even speak about him."
"No, my own, no!" Nina Ivanovna said quickly, terribly alarmed.
"Calm yourself--it's just because you are in low spirits. It will
pass, it often happens. Most likely you have had a tiff with Andrey;
but lovers' quarrels always end in kisses!"
"Oh, go away, mother, oh, go away," sobbed Nadya.
"Yes," said Nina Ivanovna after a pause, "it's not long since you
were a baby, a little girl, and now you are engaged to be married.
In nature there is a continual transmutation of substances. Before
you know where you are you will be a mother yourself and an old
woman, and will have as rebellious a daughter as I have."
"My darling, my sweet, you are clever you know, you are unhappy,"
said Nadya. "You are very unhappy; why do you say such very dull,
commonplace things? For God's sake, why?"
Nina Ivanovna tried to say something, but could not utter a word;
she gave a sob and went away to her own room. The bass voices began
droning in the stove again, and Nadya felt suddenly frightened. She
jumped out of bed and went quickly to her mother. Nina Ivanovna,
with tear-stained face, was lying in bed wrapped in a pale blue
quilt and holding a book in her hands.
"Mother, listen to me!" said Nadya. "I implore you, do understand!
If you would only understand how petty and degrading our life is.
My eyes have been opened, and I see it all now. And what is your
Andrey Andreitch? Why, he is not intelligent, mother! Merciful
heavens, do understand, mother, he is stupid!"
Nina Ivanovna abruptly sat up.
"You and your grandmother torment me," she said with a sob. "I want
to live! to live," she repeated, and twice she beat her little fist
upon her bosom. "Let me be free! I am still young, I want to live,
and you have made me an old woman between you!"
She broke into bitter tears, lay down and curled up under the quilt,
and looked so small, so pitiful, so foolish. Nadya went to her room,
dressed, and sitting at the window fell to waiting for the morning.
She sat all night thinking, while someone seemed to be tapping on
the shutters and whistling in the yard.
In the morning Granny complained that the wind had blown down all
the apples in the garden, and broken down an old plum tree. It was
grey, murky, cheerless, dark enough for candles; everyone complained
of the cold, and the rain lashed on the windows. After tea Nadya
went into Sasha's room and without saying a word knelt down before
an armchair in the corner and hid her face in her hands.
"What is it?" asked Sasha.
"I can't . . ." she said. "How I could go on living here before, I
can't understand, I can't conceive! I despise the man I am engaged
to, I despise myself, I despise all this idle, senseless existence."
"Well, well," said Sasha, not yet grasping what was meant. "That's
all right . . . that's good."
"I am sick of this life," Nadya went on. "I can't endure another
day here. To-morrow I am going away. Take me with you for God's
sake!"
For a minute Sasha looked at her in astonishment; at last he
understood and was delighted as a child. He waved his arms and began
pattering with his slippers as though he were dancing with delight.
"Splendid," he said, rubbing his hands. "My goodness, how fine that
is!"
And she stared at him without blinking, with adoring eyes, as though
spellbound, expecting every minute that he would say something
important, something infinitely significant; he had told her nothing
yet, but already it seemed to her that something new and great was
opening before her which she had not known till then, and already
she gazed at him full of expectation, ready to face anything, even
death.
"I am going to-morrow," he said after a moment's thought. "You come
to the station to see me off. . . . I'll take your things in my
portmanteau, and I'll get your ticket, and when the third bell rings
you get into the carriage, and we'll go off. You'll see me as far
as Moscow and then go on to Petersburg alone. Have you a passport?"
"Yes."
"I can promise you, you won't regret it," said Sasha, with conviction.
"You will go, you will study, and then go where fate takes you.
When you turn your life upside down everything will be changed. The
great thing is to turn your life upside down, and all the rest is
unimportant. And so we will set off to-morrow?"
"Oh yes, for God's sake!"
It seemed to Nadya that she was very much excited, that her heart
was heavier than ever before, that she would spend all the time
till she went away in misery and agonizing thought; but she had
hardly gone upstairs and lain down on her bed when she fell asleep
at once, with traces of tears and a smile on her face, and slept
soundly till evening.
V
A cab had been sent for. Nadya in her hat and overcoat went upstairs
to take one more look at her mother, at all her belongings. She
stood in her own room beside her still warm bed, looked about her,
then went slowly in to her mother. Nina Ivanovna was asleep; it was
quite still in her room. Nadya kissed her mother, smoothed her hair,
stood still for a couple of minutes . . . then walked slowly
downstairs.
It was raining heavily. The cabman with the hood pulled down was
standing at the entrance, drenched with rain.
"There is not room for you, Nadya," said Granny, as the servants
began putting in the luggage. "What an idea to see him off in such
weather! You had better stop at home. Goodness, how it rains!"
Nadya tried to say something, but could not. Then Sasha helped Nadya
in and covered her feet with a rug. Then he sat down beside her.
"Good luck to you! God bless you!" Granny cried from the steps.
"Mind you write to us from Moscow, Sasha!"
"Right. Good-bye, Granny."
"The Queen of Heaven keep you!"
"Oh, what weather!" said Sasha.
It was only now that Nadya began to cry. Now it was clear to her
that she certainly was going, which she had not really believed
when she was saying good-bye to Granny, and when she was looking
at her mother. Good-bye, town! And she suddenly thought of it all:
Andrey, and his father and the new house and the naked lady with
the vase; and it all no longer frightened her, nor weighed upon
her, but was naïve and trivial and continually retreated further
away. And when they got into the railway carriage and the train
began to move, all that past which had been so big and serious
shrank up into something tiny, and a vast wide future which till
then had scarcely been noticed began unfolding before her. The rain
pattered on the carriage windows, nothing could be seen but the
green fields, telegraph posts with birds sitting on the wires flitted
by, and joy made her hold her breath; she thought that she was going
to freedom, going to study, and this was just like what used, ages
ago, to be called going off to be a free Cossack.
She laughed and cried and prayed all at once.
"It's a-all right," said Sasha, smiling. "It's a-all right."