Near Dmitry Parfentyevich were the knots of passengers, some on benches
by the table, others on the deck and sitting on bundles.
There were several raftsmen from Unzha, a fat and good-natured country
woman, and an old man, probably also a small farmer. The centre of the
group at this moment was a steward for the third class passengers. He
was still young and was dressed in a worn and dirty frock coat, with the
number “2” on the left side. A napkin hung over his shoulder and with
this he attained remarkable success in rubbing the wet tables and the
glasses. He had just brought to the deck a tray of dishes with his arms
wide open and with his eyes looking ahead and at his feet at the same
instant. He had put the tray on the table, wiped off the dust around
it with his napkin, and then joining this group of his countrymen sat
down on the end of the bench and at once assumed a leading rôle in the
conversation which they had already commenced.
“I’ll tell you,” he said in a wholly confident tone, “if I cross myself
with my fist, it works. This way: in the Name of the Father and of the
Son and of the Holy Ghost, Amen. It really works just the same. What do
you think?”
He looked at the others with the air of a man who had just propounded a
very clever riddle.
“The fist, you say?” asked one of the peasants from Unzha in surprise.
“Yes, the fist.”
The listeners shook their heads as a mark of doubt and reproof. The
farmer turned sternly to the young fellow:
“N-now, stop that! You claim to be above God....”
“What do you mean?”
“Why, you are a foo-fool to make the sign of the cross with your fist.
Impossible. It never works.”
“It does!”
The young fellow looked round upon his auditors with a joyously radiant
face and was about to give the answer to the riddle when he heard at one
of the tables the impatient tapping of a spoon on a glass.
The fellow jumped up as if he had been shot. In an instant he was at the
other end of the deck, grabbed the tea-pots, ran to the machinery and
back, set the table, shook himself, ran below again, put up the orders
and passed them around the tables, and all the while the conversation
continued before an enchanted audience.
“He’s beside himself!” said the farmer.
“Due to a stupid mind,” added the old woman pityingly.
“The little fellow was a liar, that’s all!”
“How can you do it with your fist?... That never works....”
The general opinion was evidently very definite.
“Impossible,” said several voices suddenly. “It’s impudence and nothing
else....”
“What——?”
“Where did you get that notion?”
“It’s impudence....”
“Just you listen,” interrupted the young waiter, suddenly coming up the
hatch, “and you may not think it impudent.... In the linen factory in
the place where I lived there was a fellow and a machine caught all his
fingers and slash bang! That’s all! He didn’t have a finger left! And his
right hand too.... Just imagine: being a man with nothing but his palm
left....”
The audience was charmed.
“What are you driving at?”
“You see the question.... What would you do, brothers?... Could he cross
himself with his left hand?...”
“What, what?” The farmer waved his hand. “You can’t use the left hand....
That’s for Satan....”
“But he’d lost the fingers on the right, so he couldn’t join them.... Had
only the palm left!...”
“That’s so....”
The riddle became more popular. The passengers nearby listened; those
further off got up and walked nearer to the speaker. Even the young
merchant who was talking very authoritatively about politics at the tea
table with a fat gentleman, deigned to turn his benevolent attention to
the all-ingrossing riddle. He tapped with his spoon and beckoned to the
waiter.
“Waiter, how much?... O-oh! What did you say: with the fist?”
“Yes, your excellency, among ourselves.... It doesn’t interest you....”
“No, but it’s really clever, isn’t it?” remarked the merchant to his fat
friend.
The latter’s answer was unintelligible, for the man was struggling with a
slice of bread and butter.
But the Tatars sat in the stern without taking any part in the general
conversation. They were silent, but once in a while they made brief
remarks to one another in their own language.