Several days passed. The “bad company” ceased to appear in town, and I
wandered through the streets in vain, feeling sad and lonely, waiting
for them to return so that I might hasten to the hill.
Only the Professor came down once with his sleepy walk; neither
Tiburtsi nor Turkevich appeared. I was thoroughly unhappy, for not to
see Valek and Marusia had come to be a great loss to me. But one day as
I was walking down the street with hanging head Valek suddenly laid his
hand upon my shoulder.
“Why don’t you come to see us any more?” he asked.
“I’m afraid to--I haven’t seen your people in town.”
“O--oh--and I never thought of telling you! Our people aren’t at home;
you can come. And I thought it was something else!”
“What?”
“I thought you were tired of coming.”
“No, no! I’m coming at once; I even have the apples here with me.”
At mention of the apples Valek suddenly turned toward me as if he
wanted to say something, but nothing came, and he only gave me an odd
look.
“No matter, no matter,” he dismissed the question, seeing that I was
looking expectantly at him. “Go along up the hill; I have something to
do; I’ll catch you up on the way.”
I walked along, glancing back frequently, expecting to be overtaken
by Valek, but I had climbed the hill and reached the chapel before he
had appeared. I stopped in doubt as to what I ought to do. Before me
lay the graveyard, desolate and hushed, without the faintest sign of
human habitation. Only sparrows were twittering in the sunshine, and
a thicket of wild cherry trees, honeysuckle, and lilac bushes that
nestled close up under the southern wall of the chapel was softly
whispering something with its dark, dense foliage.
I looked about. Where should I go next? Clearly, the only thing to do
was to wait for Valek. So I began to wander among the graves, idly
trying to decipher the epitaphs on the mossy tombstones. As I was
roaming thus from grave to grave, I suddenly stumbled upon a large,
half-ruined vault. The roof of this vault had been taken off or else
had been torn away by storms, and was lying close at hand. The door
was boarded up. Out of curiosity I propped an old cross against the
wall, climbed up, and peered into the vault. It was empty, but a window
with glass panes had been let into the centre of the floor, and under
these panes there gaped the black void of a subterranean chamber.
While I was looking into this tomb and marvelling at the strange
situation of the window, Valek came running, panting and tired, to
the top of the hill. He was carrying a large loaf of Jewish bread in
his arms, something was sticking out from under his coat, and the
perspiration was streaming down his face.
“Oh!” he cried at sight of me. “There you are! If Tiburtsi should find
you here, how angry he would be! But it’s too late to do anything now.
I know you’re all right and won’t tell any one where we live. Let’s go
in!”
“Go in where? Is it far?”
“You’ll see. Follow me.”
He pushed aside the twigs of the honeysuckle and lilac bushes and
disappeared into the thicket beneath the chapel wall. I followed him,
and found myself on a small trampled patch of earth which had been
entirely concealed from me before by foliage. Between the stems of
the cherry trees I saw a fairly large opening from which a flight of
earthen steps led downward. Valek started down, bidding me follow him,
and in a few seconds we found ourselves in darkness underground. Valek
took my hand and led me through a narrow, damp passage, until, turning
sharply to the right, we emerged into a spacious crypt.
I stopped at the entrance, amazed at this unexpected sight. Two beams
of light fell sharply from overhead, painting two luminous bands across
the darkness of the crypt. This light came from a couple of windows,
one of which I had seen in the floor of the vault, and another, which
lay beyond and which had evidently been constructed in the same way
as the first. The rays of the sun did not fall directly upon these
windows, but were reflected into them from the walls of the two old
vaults. This light was diffused in the grey air underground, and fell
upon the flag-stone floor, from which it was reflected once more,
filling the crypt with a dusky shimmer. The walls were also of stone,
and massive, thick columns, rising ponderously from the floor, spread
their stone arches in all directions and at last firmly clasped the
vaulted roof above.
Two figures were sitting in a patch of light on the floor. The old
Professor, with bowed head and muttering something to himself, was
cobbling his rags together with a needle. He did not even look up as
we entered the crypt, and had it not been for the slight movement of
his hands, his grey figure might easily have been mistaken for some
grotesque piece of stone carving.
Under the other window sat Marusia by a little heap of flowers,
sorting them over, as her custom was. A beam of light fell on her fair
curls, bathing her in radiance from head to foot, but in spite of this
she stood out a strange little misty speck against the grey stone
background, looking as if she might melt and vanish at any moment.
Whenever a cloud passed over the earth, dimming the sun’s brightness,
this background seemed to slip away and disappear, swallowed up in
darkness, but when the sun shone out anew, the cold, cruel stones stood
out once more, clasping each other above the tiny figure of the child
in an indissoluble embrace. I involuntarily remembered Valek’s saying
about the “grey stone” that was draining Marusia’s merriment away, and
a feeling of superstitious fear came stealing into my heart. I seemed
to be aware of an invisible but terrible stony stare directed at her,
rapacious and intent; I felt that the crypt was keenly eyeing its prey.
“Valek!” lisped Marusia gaily, as she caught sight of her brother. When
she saw me with him a faint light shone in her eyes.
I gave her the apples I had brought, and Valek, breaking the loaf
in two, gave her a piece and handed the rest to the Professor. That
unhappy man of learning accepted the gift indifferently, and began
munching without tearing himself away from his occupation. I shivered
and moved uneasily, stifled, as it were, by the oppressive “stare” of
those grey stones.
“Come! Come away from here----” I insisted, plucking at Valek’s sleeve.
“Take her away!”
“Come, Marusia, let’s go upstairs,” Valek called to his sister.
And the three of us climbed up out of the crypt, but even out of doors
I felt a sense of restlessness and strain. Valek was sadder and more
silent than usual.
“Did you stay in town to buy that bread?” I asked.
“To buy it?” laughed Valek. “Where would I find the money?”
“How did you get it then? Did you ask for it?”
“Yes, that’s likely! Who would give it to me? No, brother, I nabbed it
from Sarah the Jewess’ bread-tray at the bazaar. She didn’t see me.”
He said this in a matter-of-fact voice, sprawling on the grass with his
hands under his head. I raised myself on my elbow and stared at him.
“So you stole it?”
“Yes, I did.”