he cried to three other children who suddenly came out of different
corners of the room together with two lean cats covered with wood
ashes. "Get along! Sh-sh! Come this way, Akim Semyonitch, this way!"
he went on, making his guest sit down, "and won't you take something?"
"I tell you what, Yefrem," Akim articulated at last, "could I have
some vodka?"
Yefrem pricked up his ears.
"Vodka? You can. I've none in the house, but I will run this minute to
Father Fyodor's. He always has it.... I'll be back in no time."
And he snatched up his cap with earflaps.
"Bring plenty, I'll pay for it," Akim shouted after him. "I've still
money enough for that."
"I'll be back in no time," Yefrem repeated again as he went out of the
door. He certainly did return very quickly with two bottles under his
arm, of which one was already uncorked, put them on the table, brought
two little green glasses, part of a loaf and some salt.
"Now this is what I like," he kept repeating, as he sat down opposite
Akim. "Why grieve?" He poured out a glass for Akim and another for
himself and began talking freely. Avdotya's conduct had perplexed him.
"It's a strange business, really," he said, "how did it happen? He
must have bewitched her, I suppose? It shows how strictly one must
look after a wife! You want to keep a firm hand over her. All the same
it wouldn't be amiss for you to go home; I expect you have got a lot
of belongings there still." Yefrem added much more to the same effect;
he did not like to be silent when he was drinking.
This is what was happening an hour later in Yefrem's house. Akim, who
had not answered a word to the questions and observations of his
talkative host but had merely gone on drinking glass after glass, was
sleeping on the stove, crimson in the face, a heavy, oppressive sleep;
the children were looking at him in wonder, and Yefrem ... Yefrem,
alas, was asleep, too, but in a cold little lumber room in which he
had been locked by his wife, a woman of very masculine and powerful
physique. He had gone to her in the shed and begun threatening her or
telling her some tale, but had expressed himself so unintelligibly and
incoherently that she instantly saw what was the matter, took him by
the collar and deposited him in a suitable place. He slept in the
lumber room, however, very soundly and even serenely. Such is the
effect of habit.
* * * * *
Kirillovna had not quite accurately repeated to Lizaveta Prohorovna
her conversation with Akim ... the same may be said of Avdotya. Naum
had not turned her out, though she had told Akim that he had; he had
no right to turn her out. He was bound to give the former owners time
to pack up. An explanation of quite a different character took place
between him and Avdotya.
When Akim had rushed out crying that he would go to the mistress,
Avdotya had turned to Naum, stared at him open-eyed and clasped her
hands.
"Good heavens!" she cried, "Naum Ivanitch, what does this mean? You've
bought our inn?"
"Well, what of it?" he replied. "I have."
Avdotya was silent for a while; then she suddenly started.
"So that is what you wanted the money for?"
"You are quite right there. Hullo, I believe your husband has gone off
with my horse," he added, hearing the rumble of the wheels. "He is a
smart fellow!"
"But it's robbery!" wailed Avdotya. "Why, it's our money, my husband's
money and the inn is ours...."
"No, Avdotya Arefyevna," Naum interrupted her, "the inn was not yours.
What's the use of saying that? The inn was on your mistress's land, so
it was hers. The money was yours, certainly; but you were, so to say,
so kind as to present it to me; and I am grateful to you and will even
give it back to you on occasion--if occasion arises; but you wouldn't
expect me to remain a beggar, would you?"
Naum said all this very calmly and even with a slight smile.
"Holy saints!" cried Avdotya, "it's beyond everything! Beyond
everything! How can I look my husband in the face after this? You
villain," she added, looking with hatred at Naum's fresh young face.
"I've ruined my soul for you, I've become a thief for your sake, why,
you've turned us into the street, you villain! There's nothing left
for me but to hang myself, villain, deceiver! You've ruined me, you
monster!" And she broke into violent sobbing.
"Don't excite yourself, Avdotya Arefyevna," said Naum. "I'll tell you
one thing: charity begins at home, and that's what the pike is in the
sea for, to keep the carp from going to sleep."
"Where are we to go now. What's to become of us?" Avdotya faltered,
weeping.
"That I can't say."
"But I'll cut your throat, you villain, I'll cut your throat."
"No, you won't do that, Avdotya Arefyevna; what's the use of talking
like that? But I see I had better leave you for a time, for you are
very much upset.... I'll say good-bye, but I shall be back to-morrow
for certain. But you must allow me to send my workmen here today," he
added, while Avdotya went on repeating through her tears that she
would cut his throat and her own.
"Oh, and here they are," he observed, looking out of the window. "Or,
God forbid, some mischief might happen.... It will be safer so. Will
you be so kind as to put your belongings together to-day and they'll
keep guard here and help you, if you like. I'll say goodbye."
He bowed, went out and beckoned the workmen to him.
Avdotya sank on the bench, then bent over the table, wringing her
hands, then suddenly leapt up and ran after her husband.... We have
described their meeting.
When Akim drove away from her with Yefrem, leaving her alone in the
field, for a long time she remained where she was, weeping. When she
had wept away all her tears she went in the direction of her
mistress's house. It was very bitter for her to go into the house,
still more bitter to go into the maids' room. All the maids flew to
meet her with sympathy and consideration. Seeing them, Avdotya could
not restrain her tears; they simply spurted from her red and swollen
eyes. She sank, helpless, on the first chair that offered itself.
Someone ran to fetch Kirillovna. Kirillovna came, was very friendly to
her, but kept her from seeing the mistress just as she had Akim.
Avdotya herself did not insist on seeing Lizaveta Prohorovna; she had
come to her old home simply because she had nowhere else to go.
Kirillovna ordered the samovar to be brought in. For a long while
Avdotya refused to take tea, but yielded at last to the entreaties and
persuasion of all the maids and after the first cup drank another
four. When Kirillovna saw that her guest was a little calmer and only
shuddered and gave a faint sob from time to time, she asked her where
they meant to move to and what they thought of doing with their
things. Avdotya began crying again at this question, and protesting
that she wanted nothing but to die; but Kirillovna as a woman with a
head on her shoulders, checked her at once and advised her without
wasting time to set to work that very day to move their things to the
hut in the village which had been Akim's and in which his uncle (the
old man who had tried to dissuade him from his marriage) was now
living; she told her that with their mistress's permission men and
horses should be sent to help them in packing and moving. "And as for
you, my love," added Kirillovna, twisting her cat-like lips into a wry
smile, "there will always be a place for you with us and we shall be
delighted if you stay with us till you are settled in a house of your
own again. The great thing is not to lose heart. The Lord has given,
the Lord has taken away and will give again. Lizaveta Prohorovna, of
course, had to sell your inn for reasons of her own but she will not
forget you and will make up to you for it; she told me to tell Akim
Semyonitch so. Where is he now?"
Avdotya answered that when he met her he had been very unkind to her
and had driven off to Yefrem's.
"Oh, to that fellow's!" Kirillovna replied significantly. "Of course,
I understand that it's hard for him now. I daresay you won't find him
to-day; what's to be done? I must make arrangements. Malashka," she
added, turning to one of the maids, "ask Nikanop Ilyitch to come here:
we will talk it over with him."
Nikanop Ilyitch, a feeble-looking man who was bailiff or something of
the sort, made his appearance at once, listened with servility to all
that Kirillovna said to him, said, "it shall be done," went out and
gave orders. Avdotya was given three waggons and three peasants; a
fourth who said that he was "more competent than they were,"
volunteered to join them and she went with them to the inn where she
found her own labourers and the servant Fetinya in a state of great
confusion and alarm.
Naum's newly hired labourers, three very stalwart young men, had come
in the morning and had not left the place since. They were keeping
very zealous guard, as Naum had said they would--so zealous that the
iron tyres of a new cart were suddenly found to be missing.
It was a bitter, bitter task for poor Avdotya to pack. In spite of the
help of the "competent" man, who turned out, however, only capable of
walking about with a stick in his hand, looking at the others and
spitting on the ground, she was not able to get it finished that day
and stayed the night at the inn, begging Fetinya to spend the night in
her room. But she only fell into a feverish doze towards morning and
the tears trickled down her cheeks even in her sleep.
Meanwhile Yefrem woke up earlier than usual in his lumber room and
began knocking and asking to be let out. At first his wife was
unwilling to release him and told him through the door that he had not
yet slept long enough; but he aroused her curiosity by promising to
tell her of the extraordinary thing that had happened to Akim; she
unbolted the door. Yefrem told her what he knew and ended by asking
"Is he awake yet, or not?"
"The Lord only knows," answered his wife. "Go and look yourself; he
hasn't got down from the stove yet. How drunk you both were yesterday!
You should look at your face--you don't look like yourself. You are as
black as a sweep and your hair is full of hay!"
"That doesn't matter," answered Yefrem, and, passing his hand over his
head, he went into the room. Akim was no longer asleep; he was sitting
on the stove with his legs hanging down; he, too, looked strange and
unkempt. His face showed the effects the more as he was not used to
drinking much.
Akim looked at him with lustreless eyes.
"Well, brother Yefrem," he said huskily, "could we have some again?"
Yefrem took a swift glance at Akim.... He felt a slight tremor at that
moment; it was a tremor such as is felt by a sportsman when he hears
the yap of his dog at the edge of the wood from which he had fancied
all the game had been driven.
"What, more?" he asked at last.
"Yes, more."
"My wife will see," thought Yefrem, "she won't let me out, most
likely.
"All right," he pronounced aloud, "have a little patience."
He went out and, thanks to skilfully taken precautions, succeeded in
bringing in unseen a big bottle under his coat.
Akim took the bottle. But Yefrem did not sit down with him as he had
the day before--he was afraid of his wife--and informing Akim that he
would go and have a look at what was going on at the inn and would see
that his belongings were being packed and not stolen--at once set off,
riding his little horse which he had neglected to feed--but judging
from the bulging front of his coat he had not forgotten his own needs.
Soon after he had gone, Akim was on the stove again, sleeping like the
dead.... He did not wake up, or at least gave no sign of waking when
Yefrem returned four hours later and began shaking him and trying to
rouse him and muttering over him some very muddled phrases such as
that "everything was moved and gone, and the ikons have been taken out
and driven away and that everything was over, and that everyone was
looking for him but that he, Yefrem, had given orders and not allowed
them, ..." and so on. But his mutterings did not last long. His wife
carried him off to the lumber room again and, very indignant both with
her husband and with the visitor, owing to whom her husband had been
drinking, lay down herself in the room on the shelf under the
ceiling.... But when she woke up early, as her habit was, and glanced
at the stove, Akim was not there. The second cock had not crowed and
the night was still so dark that the sky hardly showed grey overhead
and at the horizon melted into the darkness when Akim walked out of
the gate of the sacristan's house. His face was pale but he looked
keenly around him and his step was not that of a drunken man.... He
walked in the direction of his former dwelling, the inn, which had now
completely passed into the possession of its new owner--Naum.
Naum, too, was awake when Akim stole out of Yefrem's house. He was not
asleep; he was lying on a bench with his sheepskin coat under him. It
was not that his conscience was troubling him--no! he had with amazing
coolness been present all day at the packing and moving of all Akim's
possessions and had more than once addressed Avdotya, who was so
downcast that she did not even reproach him ... his conscience was at
rest but he was disturbed by various conjectures and calculations. He
did not know whether he would be lucky in his new career; he had never
before kept an inn, nor had a home of his own at all; he could not
sleep. "The thing has begun well," he thought, "how will it go
on?" ... Towards evening, after seeing off the last cart with Akim's
belongings (Avdotya walked behind it, weeping), he looked all over the
yard, the cellars, sheds, and barns, clambered up into the loft, more
than once instructed his labourers to keep a very, very sharp look-out
and when he was left alone after supper could not go to sleep. It so