Sketches from a Hunter's Album (22 page)

BOOK: Sketches from a Hunter's Album
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‘And look who he fell in love with! A real fright she was!'

‘No, you mustn't say that, Konstantin Narkizych.'

‘Who're you trying to kid? I saw 'er with my own eyes. Last year in Moscow I saw 'er with my own eyes.'

‘Last year she'd really gone downhill a bit, sure,' Kuprian remarked.

‘No, gentlemen, what I'd…' interrupted in a contemptuous and offhand voice a tall, thin man, with a face covered in spots, evidently a valet with his curled, pomaded hair, 'er, let Kuprian Afanasych sing his little song. Come on, Kuprian Afanasych, get going!'

‘Yes, yes!' the others all shouted. ‘Come on, Alexandra! You're done for, Kuprya! Come on, sing, Kuprya! Come on, Alexandra!' (Manorial servants frequently, when speaking about a man, use a feminine form out of greater fondness.) ‘Come on, sing!'

‘This isn't a place for singing,' Kuprian objected with firmness, ‘it's an office.'

‘So what's that matter to you? You're aimin' to become a clerk, aren't you?' Konstantin responded with a coarse laugh. ‘Goes without sayin'!'

‘Everything's in the mistress's hands,' the poor fellow remarked.

‘See, see, that's what he's after, isn't he? Ooh! Ooh! Ah!'

And they all burst out laughing, and some started jumping with joy. One laughed louder than all the rest, a boy of about fifteen, apparently the son of an aristocrat from among the manorial staff because he was wearing a waistcoat with brass buttons and a lilac-coloured tie and had already developed a little pot-belly.

‘Just listen a moment, admit it, Kuprya,' said Nikolay Yeremeich self-importantly, evidently delighted and thoroughly mollified. ‘It's no good being a stoker, is it? It's an empty job, isn't it?'

‘Look, Nikolay Yeremeich,' said Kuprian, ‘you're now our chief clerk, that's true. There's no dispute about that, none at all. But you were in disgrace once and had to live in a peasant hut as well.'

‘Just you watch out, and don't you forget it!' the Fatso interrupted him angrily. ‘They're joking with you, you fool. You, you fool, you ought to sense how things are and be grateful that they're taking some interest in you, fool that you are.'

‘I didn't mean it, Nikolay Yeremeich, I'm sorry…'

‘You'd better mean that.'

The door was flung open and in ran a servant-boy.

‘Nikolay Yeremeich, the mistress's askin' for you.'

‘Who's with her?' he asked the boy.

‘Aksinya Nikitishna and the merchant from Venyovo.'

‘I'll be there in a moment. And you, my lads,' he went on in a persuasive voice, ‘you'd best be off out of here with the newly appointed stoker, 'cos that German'll likely drop in and he'll lay a complaint at once.'

The Fatso put his hair to rights, coughed into a hand that was almost completely covered by his coat sleeve, buttoned himself up
and set off to see his mistress, walking with his feet placed wide apart. A short while later the whole gang followed in his wake together with Kuprya. The only one remaining was my old friend the duty clerk. He set about sharpening quills, but while sitting there he fell asleep. Several flies immediately took advantage of this good fortune and settled on his mouth. A mosquito alighted on his forehead, correctly spread its little feet and slowly plunged its whole sting into his soft body. The former red-headed man with sideburns again appeared in the doorway, glanced in once or twice and then entered along with his rather unattractive torso.

‘Fedyushka! Fedyushka! You're always sleeping!' he said.

The duty clerk opened his eyes and rose from his chair.

‘Has Nikolay Yeremeich gone to see the mistress?'

‘He's gone to see the mistress, Vasily Nikolaich.'

Ah, I thought, here he is – the chief cashier. He began walking about the room. Though it was more of a prowl than a walk and was generally rather cat-like. An ancient black frock-coat with very narrow tails bounced up and down on his shoulders, while one hand was held on his breast and the other ceaselessly fingered a high, tight, horsehair cravat, and he turned his head to and fro with an effort. He wore goatskin boots which did not squeak and he padded about very softly.

‘Today the Yagushka landowner was asking for you,' the duty clerk added.

‘Was he? What did he have to say?'

‘He said to say he'd be going to Tyutyurev in the evening and he'd wait for you there. He said to say he'd wanted to discuss something with Vasily Nikolaich, but he didn't say what it was 'cos, he said, Vasily Nikolaich'd already know.'

‘Hm!' exclaimed the chief cashier and went to the window.

‘Is Nikolay Yeremeich in the office?' a voice resounded in the porch and a tall man, evidently extremely angry, with irregular, but expressive and bold features, and fairly neatly dressed, strode into the room.

‘So he's not here?' he asked, glancing quickly round.

‘Nikolay Yeremeich is with the mistress,' answered the cashier. ‘Tell me what you want, Pavel Andreich. You know you can tell me… What d'you want?'

‘What do I want? You want to know what I want?' (The cashier nodded painfully.) ‘I want to teach him a lesson, the useless Fatso he is, the low-down sneak… I'll give him something to sneak about!'

Pavel threw himself into a chair.

‘What's up with you, what's up, Pavel Andreich? Calm down… Aren't you ashamed of yourself? You'll not forget who you're speaking about, Pavel Andreich!' the cashier started babbling.

‘Who I'm speaking about? What's it to me that he's been made chief clerk? A fine one they've found to promote, say what you like! What can be said is that they've gone and let the old goat into the cabbage patch!'

‘Enough's enough, Pavel Andreich! That's enough! Stop it! What sort of rubbish is that?'

‘Well, so the old fox is off a-hunting, is he! I'll wait for him!' said Pavel in a temper, and struck the table with his fist. ‘Ah, there he is!' he added, glancing through the window. ‘The devil himself! Greetings, sir!' He stood up.

Nikolay Yeremeich came into the office. His face glowed with satisfaction, but at the sight of Pavel he appeared slightly embarrassed.

‘Hallo, Nikolay Yeremeich,' said Pavel meaningfully, slowly moving forwards to meet him, ‘hallo.'

The chief clerk did not answer. The merchant's face appeared in the doorway.

‘Why don't you do me the courtesy of answering?' Pavel went on. ‘Besides, no… no,' he added, ‘that's not the way, you won't get anything by shouting and cursing. No, it'd be better if you did the right thing by me and told me, Nikolay Yeremeich, why you're persecuting me. Why d'you want to ruin me, eh? Well, speak up, speak up.'

‘This isn't the place for explanations,' the chief clerk retorted, not without a certain feeling. ‘And it's not the time either. Except, I confess, I'm surprised by one thing. Wherever did you get the idea that I wanted to ruin you or was persecuting you? After all, how could I persecute you? You're not working here in the office.'

‘Right,' answered Pavel, ‘that's all that's missing! But why go on pretending, Nikolay Yeremeich? You know what I mean.'

‘No, I don't.'

‘Yes, you do.'

‘No, by God, I don't.'

‘And it's by God, too! If it comes to that, you tell me: don't you have any fear of God? Why're you ruining a poor girl's life? What d'you need from her?'

‘Who're you speaking about, Pavel Andreich?' asked the Fatso with feigned astonishment.

‘Hey, so he doesn't know, eh? I'm talking about Tatyana. You ought to have the fear of God in you – why're you being so vengeful? You should be ashamed! You're a married man, you've got children the same size as me and I'm not any different, I want to get married. I'm acting honourably.'

‘Why am I to blame, Pavel Andreich? The mistress doesn't permit you to get married – she's the one with authority! What've I got to do with it?'

‘What! So you haven't been up to your old tricks behind our backs with that old witch, the housekeeper, eh? So you haven't been sneaking about this and that, eh? Say you haven't been telling all sorts of lies, eh, about that poor defenceless girl? So it wasn't through your efforts, eh, that she got demoted from the laundry to the scullery? And isn't it through your efforts they're beating her and making her wear rags, eh? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, you ought, you old man! You'll be struck down by paralysis, you will, just you wait and see! You'll have to answer to God for this!'

‘That's bad language, Pavel Andreich, bad language… But you won't go on with that much longer!'

Pavel exploded.

‘What? So it's threats now, is it?' he burst out angrily. ‘You think I'm frightened of you, do you? No, mate, you've met your match with me! What've I got to be frightened of? I can earn a living wherever I like. But you – that's a different matter! You can only live here, and do your sneaking and your thieving…'

‘Oh, listen to him, putting on airs!' broke in the chief clerk, who was also beginning to lose patience. ‘A medic, just a medic, a bloody little quack! But just listen to him, what an important person he is!'

‘Yes, a medic, but without this medic your honour'd be rotting in a graveyard now! I don't know what possessed me to cure you,' he added through his teeth.

‘You cured me? No, you wanted to poison me, you made me drink aloes,' the chief clerk objected.

‘So what, if nothing but aloes had any effect on you?'

‘Aloes are forbidden by the medical authorities,' Nikolay went on, ‘and I'll lay a complaint against you. I'll say you wanted to kill me, so I will! But the Good Lord didn't allow it.'

‘Enough, gentlemen, enough…' the cashier started saying.

‘Shut up!' screamed the chief clerk. ‘He wanted to poison me! Don't you understand?'

‘A lot I care… Listen, Nikolay Yeremeich,' Pavel exclaimed in desperation, ‘for the last time I'm asking you – you've been pressuring me, you've made things impossible for me – leave us alone, understand? Or else, by God, it'll be the worse for one of us, that I can tell you!'

The Fatso went crazy.

‘I'm not scared of you,' he screamed, ‘d'you hear me, you milksop! I did for your father, too, I broke his antlers I did – an' I'll do the same for you, you'll see!'

‘Don't you mention my father, Nikolay Yeremeich, leave him out of it!'

‘Well I never! So who're you to tell me what to do?'

‘I'm telling you, leave him out!'

‘An' I'm telling you, don't forget yourself… No matter how much the mistress, in your opinion, needs you, if she had to choose between the two of us, you wouldn't stand a chance, my fine friend!' (Pavel shook with rage.) ‘And the girl Tatyana deserves what she's got… Just wait and see what'll be coming to her next!'

Pavel hurled himself at the man with raised fists and the chief clerk fell heavily to the floor.

‘Put him in chains, in chains!' groaned Nikolay Yeremeich.

I will not take it upon myself to describe the end of this scene because I'm already afraid I've insulted the reader's feelings.

I returned home that day. A week later I learned that Mrs Losnyakova had kept both Pavel and Nikolay in her employment but had sent the girl Tatyana away: she evidently wasn't needed.

LONER

O
NE
evening I was by myself in my racing droshky after going hunting. There were still some half-dozen miles before I got home. My good trotting mare went happily along the dusty road, occasionally giving snorts and twitching her ears; my tired dog, as though literally tied there, never for a moment fell back behind the rear wheels. A thunderstorm was threatening. Straight ahead an enormous lilac cloud rose slowly beyond the forest and long grey lengths of cloud hung above me and stretched towards me. The willows rustled and murmured in alarm. The muggy heat was suddenly replaced by moist cool air and the shadows thickened. I struck the horse with a rein, descended into a gully, made my way across a dry stream completely overgrown with willow bushes, went uphill and drove into the forest. The road wound its way ahead of me between thick clumps of nut, already immersed in darkness, and my progress was difficult. The droshky jumped about as the wheels struck the hard roots of centuries-old oaks and limes which crisscrossed the deep ruts made by cartwheels, and my horse began to stumble. A strong wind suddenly began roaring on high, the trees began thrashing about, huge raindrops started pounding sharply on the leaves and splashing over them, lightning flashed and thunder exploded. The rain fell in torrents. I went at a walking pace and was soon obliged to stop because my horse had got stuck and I couldn't see a thing. Somehow or other I found shelter by a large bush. Hunched down and covering up my face, I was waiting patiently for the storm to end, when suddenly by the light of a lightning flash I thought I saw a tall figure on the road. I began looking intently in that direction and saw that the figure had literally sprung from the earth just beside my droshky.

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