About noon we reached my home in the same kind of a cart. This we had
happened to meet at the edge of the city. The cart stopped at the gate.
Our picturesque company attracted the attention of several passers-by, a
thing that clearly annoyed Andrey Ivanovich.... I asked my companion to
come in and rest and have some tea.
“Thanks, I haven’t far to go,” answered the bootmaker coldly. He threw
his wallet on his back and, then, without ceremony, he pointed at
Avtonomov.
“Are you inviting him in?”
“Yes, I’m inviting Gennady Sergeyevich,” I answered.
Andrey Ivanovich turned sharply and, without saying good-bye, he started
down the street.
Ivan Ivanovich looked desperately frightened, as if my invitation had
caught him in a trap. He looked appealingly at Avtonomov, and shame at
being present tortured his whole figure. Avtonomov asked simply:
“Where are we going?”
While the samovar was being heated, I asked the servants to gather up
some superfluous clothes and linen and offered my companions a change of
attire. Avtonomov at once consented, tied them all in one bundle and said:
“We’ve got to have a bath....”
Of course, I did not object. Both wanderers came back from the bath
transformed. Ivan Ivanovich, in a coat which was too broad and trousers
which were too long and with his thin hair, looked astonishingly like a
woman in man’s clothes. As far as Avtonomov was concerned, he was not
satisfied with the conventional amount of clothing, but he had put on
everything which had been given him to choose from. He was wearing,
consequently, a blue shirt, a blouse, two vests, and a coat. The shirt
stuck up above the collar of the blouse and reached below it,—it was so
much longer. The edge of the blouse was visible and the coat seemed to
form a third layer.... At the tea table Ivan Ivanovich was so miserable
that we let him take his cup into the kitchen, where he sat down in one
corner and immediately won the sympathy of our cook.
Avtonomov acted recklessly, called my mother signora and jumped up every
minute in order to serve something.
After tea he looked himself over from head to foot and said, with an air
of satisfaction:
“In this costume my brother-in-law won’t be ashamed of me.... I’ll go see
my sister.... She lives near here. May I leave my wallet in your hall,
signora?”
When he went to the gate, Ivan Ivanovich ran after him in terror. After a
short conversation Avtonomov permitted the poor fellow to follow him at
some distance.
Ivan Ivanovich soon returned alone. His bird-like face beamed with
surprise and delight.
“They received him,” he said, clearing his throat joyfully. “That’s the
solemn truth. He really has a sister. And a brother-in-law.... Please go
past, accidentally.... You’ll see it, too.... As God is true, they’re
sitting in a garden entertaining him ... like a brother. His sister’s
weeping from joy....”
From the breast of the little wanderer came strange sounds like
hysterical laughing and weeping.
In an hour Avtonomov appeared, transfigured and triumphant. He came up to
me, fervently grasped my hand, and pressed it till it hurt.
“Through you I’ve found my relatives.... Yes.... That’s it! Till
death....”
He pressed my hand still harder, then convulsively released it and turned
away. Apparently the brother-in-law, who was not without influence in the
consistory, believed in Avtonomov’s reformation and decided to help him.
It was also necessary to get certain papers from Uglich and....
“Back here again! My wanderings are ended, signor.... I won’t forsake
you, Vanya.... I’ll give you a corner and food.... Live.... I’ll be
responsible.... You’ll get quarters ... also....”
As I listened to this conversation, involuntary doubts crept into my
mind, the more so as Avtonomov had resumed his grandiloquent manner and
kept using more and more frequently the word signor....
Towards evening the two set out “for Uglich to get the papers.” Avtonomov
gave me a solemn promise to return in a week “to begin his new life.”
“Is this all that was necessary for this ‘miracle?’” I thought
doubtfully....