Dmitry Parfentyevich started like a war horse at the sound of a trumpet.
Grunya did not take her eyes from the distant mountains and the river,
but it was easy to see that she was not looking at them. Without turning
her head she was listening intently to the conversation of her neighbors.
Dmitry Parfentyevich looked at her askance. Hitherto she would have
turned to him immediately with a trusting question: “Papa, how’s that?”
Now she seemed to pay no attention to her father’s opinion.
He waited for her to ask but her large eyes fell with evident sympathy
upon that knot of dark, ignorant people, who were shocked by such a
meaningless change in their faith....
He rose and walked up to the disputants. His thickset, dry figure,
savagely pure, in an old-fashioned costume, won for him the immediate
attention of all.
“What’s the trouble?” he asked.
“It’s this way, you see, merchant.... This little fellow says you can
cross yourself with your fist.”
“I heard him but don’t repeat it! That man’s a fool!”
“Yes, yes,” whispered one timidly, “we’re all dark people....”
“That’s true, ... you are. If you follow the teachings of your true
masters, you’ll find nothing surprising here.”
The audience grew rapidly larger. All were now interested in the tall old
man with quiet and majestically austere manners. Dmitry Parfentyevich
was not embarrassed by the attention he was receiving. It was not the
first time. There was only one person in that crowd that interested
him and that was his scholar, his disobedient and devout Grunya. In
his own way he loved his daughter and his rough heart was torn by her
unwearied doubts and her sad look. He passionately wished her to feel
that peace from heaven which his own heart had so fully obtained. But her
disobedience always aroused in his stern soul a storm of suppressed rage
and this struggled with his love and usually conquered it.
Grunya still kept her seat. She did not stir but she listened intently.
“Now listen,” came to her ears the confident and harsh voice of her
father. “This is the true cross and it is to this cross that we hold in
order to be saved.”
He raised his hand with two fingers raised, so that all could see.
“A dissenter,” was the murmur in the crowd. Two or three merchants who
were apparently fond of religious discussions, pressed nearer, when they
heard this unexpected confession.
“We are not dissenters,” continued Dmitry Parfentyevich. “We confess the
true faith. This was the form of the cross which the holy fathers and the
patriarchs believed in. This was taught by St. Theodoret.”
He raised his hand with the two fingers joined still higher.
“Press the thumb against the little finger and the ring finger. That is
to signify the Holy Trinity. Three Persons united. Raise two fingers:
that’s for deity and humanity—two natures. Theodoret teaches again that
the middle finger is to be bent a little. That symbolizes humanity
reverencing deity. See!”
“Wait!” interrupted one of the merchants who had forced his way to the
front. “St. Cyril says something else.”
“St. Cyril says the same thing. Only he bids you keep both fingers
straight.”
“That must make a difference.”
“Wait, my good man, that’s wrong.... Don’t interrupt....” The speakers
stopped. “Let him finish.... What about the fist, merchant?”
“Yes ... that’s the main thing.”
“It’s like this: if he lost his fingers he wasn’t to blame. That means:
God allowed it. It was His will! But a man can’t live without making the
sign of the cross. Without the sign of the cross he’s worse than this
heathen Tatar. He’s bound to cross himself ... with his right hand....”
“Well?”
“And his fingers,” concluded Dmitry Parfentyevich after a pause: “His
fingers he must place in thought, as he is ordered by the holy fathers
and patriarchs....”
The crowd heaved a sigh of relief and joy.
“Merchant, we thank you!”
“He decided....”
“That’s it: he just chewed it up and explained it.”
“With thought! That’s true!”
“Of course!... With thought, nothing else!”
“That will work all right....”
Dmitry Parfentyevich looked at his daughter.... What did he care for this
applause, these praises from strange, ignorant people! She, his daughter,
kept looking straight ahead with a look of indifference upon her face, as
if her father had said something which she had long known and which had
lost all power to touch her confused and weary soul....
The old man frowned and his voice became menacing.
“If he joins his imaginary thumb with the two imaginary fingers beside
it—he is wrong.... A man who crosses himself that way will be condemned
to eternal damnation.... Cursed be he in this life and he will have no
lot in the next.”
These violent and harsh words, suddenly falling upon the crowd which had
just quieted down, changed its mood.
It became excited, began to murmur, separate into smaller groups.
A black-eyed, black-haired merchant, who had maintained hitherto an
obstinate silence, now struck his fist on the table and said with a flash
of his deepset and enthusiastic eyes:
“True! The Devil Kuka and his whole crew are in that cursed cross with
the thumb and the fingers next to it.”
“No, stop!” shouted the Orthodox, “don’t insult the true cross! Why do
you separate the Three Persons, c-curses on you?... This is the Trinity
in these three fingers....”
“Where are your first fingers?”
“Merchant, have you read the hundred and fifth article?”
“Yes, it’s on the end of the world.”
Dmitry Parfentyevich remained the centre of the group. He was still
composed and calm, but each time when he answered any of his opponents,
he transfixed him with a stubborn and unfriendly glance.
With splashing wheels, the steamboat steadily ascended the river and
cleft the blue surface of the stream; it carried with it this group
of violently quarreling people and the clay slopes of the steep bank
reëchoed their confused voices.
A steep mountain, which had concealed a bend in the river, now receded
to the rear and a broad sweep of the river appeared in front. The sun
hung like a red ball above the water and from the east, darkness spread
over the meadows as if on the soft wingbeats of the evening shadows,
overtaking the boat and falling more and more noticeably over the Volga.