Works of Ivan Turgenev (Illustrated) (289 page)

His anxiety was unnecessary, however; Gerasim was no longer in the yard. On coming out of the house he had at once missed Mumu. He never remembered her failing to wait for his return, and began running up and down, looking for her, and calling her in his own way…. He rushed up to his garret, up to the hay - loft, ran out into the street, this way and that…. She was lost! He turned to the other serfs, with the most despairing signs, questioned them about her, pointing to her height from the ground, describing her with his hands…. Some of them really did not know what had become of Mumu, and merely shook their heads, others did know, and smiled to him for all response, while the steward assumed an important air, and began scolding the coachmen. Then Gerasim ran right away out of the yard.

It was dark by the time he came back. From his worn - out look, his unsteady walk, and his dusty clothes, it might be surmised that he had been running over half Moscow. He stood still opposite the windows of the mistress’ house, took a searching look at the steps where a group of house - serfs were crowded together, turned away, and uttered once more his inarticulate ‘Mumu.’ Mumu did not answer. He went away. Every one looked after him, but no one smiled or said a word, and the inquisitive postillion Antipka reported next morning in the kitchen that the dumb man had been groaning all night.

All the next day Gerasim did not show himself, so that they were obliged to send the coachman Potap for water instead of him, at which the coachman Potap was anything but pleased. The lady asked Gavrila if her orders had been carried out. Gavrila replied that they had. The next morning Gerasim came out of his garret, and went about his work. He came in to his dinner, ate it, and went out again, without a greeting to any one. His face, which had always been lifeless, as with all deaf - mutes, seemed now to be turned to stone. After dinner he went out of the yard again, but not for long; he came back, and went straight up to the hay - loft. Night came on, a clear moonlight night. Gerasim lay breathing heavily, and incessantly turning from side to side. Suddenly he felt something pull at the skirt of his coat. He started, but did not raise his head, and even shut his eyes tighter. But again there was a pull, stronger than before; he jumped up … before him, with an end of string round her neck, was Mumu, twisting and turning. A prolonged cry of delight broke from his speechless breast; he caught up Mumu, and hugged her tight in his arms, she licked his nose and eyes, and beard and moustache, all in one instant…. He stood a little, thought a minute, crept cautiously down from the hay - loft, looked round, and having satisfied himself that no one could see him, made his way successfully to his garret. Gerasim had guessed before that his dog had not got lost by her own doing, that she must have been taken away by the mistress’ orders; the servants had explained to him by signs that his Mumu had snapped at her, and he determined to take his own measures. First he fed Mumu with a bit of bread, fondled her, and put her to bed, then he fell to meditating, and spent the whole night long in meditating how he could best conceal her. At last he decided to leave her all day in the garret, and only to come in now and then to see her, and to take her out at night. The hole in the door he stopped up effectually with his old overcoat, and almost before it was light he was already in the yard, as though nothing had happened, even — innocent guile! — the same expression of melancholy on his face. It did not even occur to the poor deaf man that Mumu would betray herself by her whining; in reality, every one in the house was soon aware that the dumb man’s dog had come back, and was locked up in his garret, but from sympathy with him and with her, and partly, perhaps, from dread of him, they did not let him know that they had found out his secret. The steward scratched his hand, and gave a despairing wave of his hand, as much as to say, ‘Well, well, God have mercy on him! If only it doesn’t come to the mistress’ ears!’

But the dumb man had never shown such energy as on that day; he cleaned and scraped the whole courtyard, pulled up every single weed with his own hand, tugged up every stake in the fence of the flower - garden, to satisfy himself that they were strong enough, and unaided drove them in again; in fact, he toiled and laboured so that even the old lady noticed his zeal. Twice in the course of the day Gerasim went stealthily in to see his prisoner when night came on, he lay down to sleep with her in the garret, not in the hay - loft, and only at two o’clock in the night he went out to take her a turn in the fresh air. After walking about the courtyard a good while with her, he was just turning back, when suddenly a rustle was heard behind the fence on the side of the back street. Mumu pricked up her ears, growled — went up to the fence, sniffed, and gave vent to a loud shrill bark. Some drunkard had thought fit to take refuge under the fence for the night. At that very time the old lady had just fallen asleep after a prolonged fit of ‘nervous agitation’; these fits of agitation always overtook her after too hearty a supper. The sudden bark waked her up: her heart palpitated, and she felt faint. ‘Girls, girls!’ she moaned. ‘Girls!’ The terrified maids ran into her bedroom. ‘Oh, oh, I am dying!’ she said, flinging her arms about in her agitation. ‘Again, that dog again!… Oh, send for the doctor. They mean to be the death of me…. The dog, the dog again! Oh!’ And she let her head fall back, which always signified a swoon. They rushed for the doctor, that is, for the household physician, Hariton. This doctor, whose whole qualification consisted in wearing soft - soled boots, knew how to feel the pulse delicately. He used to sleep fourteen hours out of the twenty - four, but the rest of the time he was always sighing, and continually dosing the old lady with cherrybay drops. This doctor ran up at once, fumigated the room with burnt feathers, and when the old lady opened her eyes, promptly offered her a wineglass of the hallowed drops on a silver tray. The old lady took them, but began again at once in a tearful voice complaining of the dog, of Gavrila, and of her fate, declaring that she was a poor old woman, and that every one had forsaken her, no one pitied her, every one wished her dead. Meanwhile the luckless Mumu had gone on barking, while Gerasim tried in vain to call her away from the fence. ‘There … there … again,’ groaned the old lady, and once more she turned up the whites of her eyes. The doctor whispered to a maid, she rushed into the outer - hall, and shook Stepan, he ran to wake Gavrila, Gavrila in a fury ordered the whole household to get up.

Gerasim turned round, saw lights and shadows moving in the windows, and with an instinct of coming trouble in his heart, put Mumu under his arm, ran into his garret, and locked himself in. A few minutes later five men were banging at his door, but feeling the resistance of the bolt, they stopped. Gavrila ran up in a fearful state of mind, and ordered them all to wait there and watch till morning. Then he flew off himself to the maids’ quarter, and through an old companion, Liubov Liubimovna, with whose assistance he used to steal tea, sugar, and other groceries and to falsify the accounts, sent word to the mistress that the dog had unhappily run back from somewhere, but that to - morrow she should be killed, and would the mistress be so gracious as not to be angry and to overlook it. The old lady would probably not have been so soon appeased, but the doctor had in his haste given her fully forty drops instead of twelve. The strong dose of narcotic acted; in a quarter of an hour the old lady was in a sound and peaceful sleep; while Gerasim was lying with a white face on his bed, holding Mumu’s mouth tightly shut.

Next morning the lady woke up rather late. Gavrila was waiting till she should be awake, to give the order for a final assault on Gerasim’s stronghold, while he prepared himself to face a fearful storm. But the storm did not come off. The old lady lay in bed and sent for the eldest of her dependent companions.

‘Liubov Liubimovna,’ she began in a subdued weak voice — she was fond of playing the part of an oppressed and forsaken victim; needless to say, every one in the house was made extremely uncomfortable at such times — ’Liubov Liubimovna, you see my position; go, my love to Gavrila Andreitch, and talk to him a little Can he really prize some wretched cur above the repose — the very life — of his mistress? I could not bear to think so,’ she added, with an expression of deep feeling. ‘Go, my love; be so good as to go to Gavrila Andreitch for me.’

Liubov Liubimovna went to Gavrila’s room. What conversation passed between them is not known, but a short time after, a whole crowd of people was moving across the yard in the direction of Gerasim’s garret. Gavrila walked in front, holding his cap on with his hand, though there was no wind. The footmen and cooks were close behind him; Uncle Tail was looking out of a window, giving instructions, that is to say, simply waving his hands. At the rear there was a crowd of small boys skipping and hopping along; half of them were outsiders who had run up. On the narrow staircase leading to the garret sat one guard; at the door were standing two more with sticks. They began to mount the stairs, which they entirely blocked up. Gavrila went up to the door, knocked with his fist, shouting, ‘Open the door!’

A stifled bark was audible, but there was no answer.

‘Open the door, I tell you,’ he repeated.

‘But, Gavrila Andreitch,’ Stepan observed from below, ‘he’s deaf, you know — he doesn’t hear.’

They all laughed.

‘What are we to do?’ Gavrila rejoined from above.

‘Why, there’s a hole there in the door,’ answered Stepan, ‘so you shake the stick in there.’

Gavrila bent down.

‘He’s stuffed it up with a coat or something.’

‘Well, you just push the coat in.’

At this moment a smothered bark was heard again.

‘See, see — she speaks for herself,’ was remarked in the crowd, and again they laughed.

Gavrila scratched his ear.

‘No, mate,’ he responded at last, ‘you can poke the coat in yourself, if you like.’

‘All right, let me.’

And Stepan scrambled up, took the stick, pushed in the coat, and began waving the stick about in the opening, saying, ‘Come out, come out!’ as he did so. He was still waving the stick, when suddenly the door of the garret was flung open; all the crowd flew pell - mell down the stairs instantly, Gavrila first of all. Uncle Tail locked the window.

‘Come, come, come,’ shouted Gavrila from the yard, ‘mind what you’re about.’

Gerasim stood without stirring in his doorway. The crowd gathered at the foot of the stairs. Gerasim, with his arms akimbo, looked down at all these poor creatures in German coats; in his red peasant’s shirt he looked like a giant before them. Gavrila took a step forward.

‘Mind, mate,’ said he, ‘don’t be insolent.’

And he began to explain to him by signs that the mistress insists on having his dog; that he must hand it over at once, or it would be the worse for him.

Gerasim looked at him, pointed to the dog, made a motion with his hand round his neck, as though he were pulling a noose tight, and glanced with a face of inquiry at the steward.

‘Yes, yes,’ the latter assented, nodding; ‘yes, just so.’

Gerasim dropped his eyes, then all of a sudden roused himself and pointed to Mumu, who was all the while standing beside him, innocently wagging her tail and pricking up her ears inquisitively. Then he repeated the strangling action round his neck and significantly struck himself on the breast, as though announcing he would take upon himself the task of killing Mumu.

‘But you’ll deceive us,’ Gavrila waved back in response.

Gerasim looked at him, smiled scornfully, struck himself again on the breast, and slammed - to the door.

They all looked at one another in silence.

‘What does that mean?’ Gavrila began. ‘He’s locked himself in.’

‘Let him be, Gavrila Andreitch,’ Stepan advised; ‘he’ll do it if he’s promised. He’s like that, you know…. If he makes a promise, it’s a certain thing. He’s not like us others in that. The truth’s the truth with him. Yes, indeed.’

‘Yes,’ they all repeated, nodding their heads, ‘yes — that’s so — yes.’

Uncle Tail opened his window, and he too said, ‘Yes.’

‘Well, may be, we shall see,’ responded Gavrila; ‘any way, we won’t take off the guard. Here you, Eroshka!’ he added, addressing a poor fellow in a yellow nankeen coat, who considered himself to be a gardener, ‘what have you to do? Take a stick and sit here, and if anything happens, run to me at once!’

Eroshka took a stick, and sat down on the bottom stair. The crowd dispersed, all except a few inquisitive small boys, while Gavrila went home and sent word through Liubov Liubimovna to the mistress, that everything had been done, while he sent a postillion for a policeman in case of need. The old lady tied a knot in her handkerchief, sprinkled some eau - de - Cologne on it, sniffed at it, and rubbed her temples with it, drank some tea, and, being still under the influence of the cherrybay drops, fell asleep again.