Obryv. English

  CHAPTER XXXI

  As the days went by Malinovka assumed its wonted calm. The quiet lifewhich had been brought to a pause by the catastrophe, flowed evenly on.The peaceful atmosphere was not undisturbed by anxiety. Autumn had laidher hand on men as well as on nature. The household was thoughtful,silent, and cold; smiles, laughter, and joy had vanished like thefalling leaves, and even though the worst crisis was passed, it had leftbehind it an atmosphere of gloom.

  Tatiana Markovna ruled her little kingdom once more. Vera was busilyengaged in the house, and devoted much care and taste to the choice ofMarfinka's trousseau. She had determined not to avoid any task, howeversimple and trivial it might be, while she awaited the opportunity ofsome serious work that life might offer her; she recognised that withmost people avoidance of the trivial and the hope of somethingextraordinary and unprecedented were dictated either by idleness andincompetence, or by morbid self-love and vanity.

  She was paler than before, her eyes were less sparkling, and she hadlost some of her vivacity of gesture; but these changes were put down byeveryone to her narrow escape from nervous fever.

  In fulfilment of Tatiana Markovna's insistently expressed wish, Vera hadspoken to Raisky of their aunt's passion, of which Tiet Nikonich hadbeen the object, but she said nothing of the sin. Even this partialconfidence explained to Raisky the riddle, how Tatiana Markovna, who inhis eyes was an old maid, could find the strength, not only to bear thebrunt of Vera's misfortune, but to soothe her, and to rescue her frommoral collapse and despair.

  He showed in his intercourse with her, more clearly than before, a deepand affectionate esteem, and an unbounded devotion. He now no longercontradicted her, so that an end was put to the earlier semi-comicwarfare he had waged against her; even in his gestures there was acertain reserve. She inspired him with the astonishment and admirationwhich are called forth by women of exceptional moral strength.

  The servants, too, were different, even though the cloud had passed.There was no sound of quarrelling, abuse or laughter. Vassilissa foundherself in an exceptionally difficult position, since, now that hermistress was restored to health, she was called on to fulfil her vow.

  One morning Yakob vanished from the yard. He had taken money from thebox where the cash was kept for buying the oil for the lamps keptburning in front of the ikons, which were in his charge, and had boughtthe promised candle, which he set up before the sacred picture in thevillage church at early Mass. As there was a small surplus he crossedhimself piously, then betook himself to the poorer quarter of the town,where he spent his riches, and then reeled home again on his unsteadylegs, displaying a slight redness on his nose and his cheeks. TatianaMarkovna happened to meet him. She immediately smelt the brandy, andasked in surprise what he had been doing. He replied that he had been tochurch, bowed his head devoutly, and folded his arms on his breast.

  He explained to Vassilissa that he had done his duty in fulfilling hisvow. She looked at him in perturbation, for in her anxieties about hermistress and in the preparations for the wedding she had not thought ofher own vow. Here was Yakob who had fulfilled his and was going aboutwith a pious jubilant air, and reminding her of her promised pilgrimageto Kiev.

  "I don't feel strong enough," she complained. "I have hardly any bonesin me, only flesh. Lord, have mercy on me!"

  For thirty years she had been steadily putting on flesh; she lived oncoffee, tea, bread, potatoes and gherkins, and often fish, even at thosetimes of the year when meat was permitted. In her distress she went toFather Vassili, to ask him to set her doubts at rest. She had heard thatkind priests were willing to release people from their vows or to allowsubstituted vows, where weakness of body hindered the performance of theoriginal.

  "As you agreed to go, you must go," said Father Vassili.

  "I agreed because I was frightened, Little Father. I thought thatMistress would die, but she was well again in three days; why thenshould I make the long journey?"

  "Yes, there is no short road to Kiev. If you had no inclination to goyou should not have registered the vow."

  "The inclination is there, but strength fails me. I suffer from want ofbreath even when I go to church. I am already in my seventh decade,Father. It would be different if Mistress had been three months in bed,if she had received the sacraments and the last unction, and then hadbeen restored to health by God in answer to my prayer; then I would havegone to Kiev on my hands and knees."

  "Well, what is to be done?" asked Father Vassili, smiling.

  "Now I should like to promise something different. I will lay a fast onmyself, never to eat another bit of meat until I die."

  "Do you like meat?"

  "I can't bear the sight of it, and have weaned myself from eating it."

  "A difficult vow," said Father Vassili with another smile, "must bereplaced by something as difficult or more difficult, but you havechosen the easiest. Isn't there anything that it would be hard for youto carry out? Think again!"

  Vassilissa thought, and said there was nothing.

  "Very well then, you must go to Kiev."

  "I would gladly go, if I were not so stout."

  "How can your vow be eased?" said Father Vassili, thinking aloud. "Whatdo you live on?"

  "On tea, coffee, mushroom soup, potatoes...."

  "Do you like coffee?"

  "Yes, Little Father."

  "Abstain from coffee."

  "That is nearly as bad," she sighed, "as going to Kiev. What am I tolive on?"

  "On meat."

  It seemed to her that he was laughing, and indeed he did laugh when hesaw her face.

  "You don't like it," he said. "But make the sacrifice."

  "What good does it do me, and to eat meat is not fasting, Father."

  "Eat it on the days when it may be eaten. The good it will do is thatyou will lay on less fat. In six months you are absolved of your vow."

  She went away in some distress, and began to execute the priest'sinstructions the next day, turning her nose sadly away from the steamingcoffee that she brought her mistress in the morning.

  In about ten days Marfinka returned in company with her fiance and hismother. Vikentev and she brought their laughter, their gaiety and theirmerry talk into the quiet house. But within a couple of hours aftertheir arrival they had become quiet and timid, for their gaiety hadaroused a melancholy echo, as in an empty house. A mist lay oneverything. Even the birds had ceased to fly to the spot where Marfinkafed them; swallows, starlings and all the feathered inhabitants of thepark were gone, and not a stork was to be seen flying over the Volga.The gardener had thrown away the withered flowers; the space in front ofthe house, usually radiant and sweet with flowers, now showed blackrings of newly-dug earth framed in yellowish grass. The branches of someof the trees had been enveloped in bast, and the trees in the parkbecame barer with every day. The Volga grew darker and darker, as if theriver were preparing for its icy winter sleep.

  Nature does not create, but it does emphasise human melancholy. Marfinkaasked herself what had happened to everybody in the house, as she lookeddoubtfully round her. Even her own pretty little room did not look sogay; it was as if Vera's nervous silence had invaded it.

  Her eyes filled with tears. Why was everything so different? Why hadVeroshka come over from the other house, and why did she walk no more inthe field or in the thicket? Where was Tiet Nikonich?

  They all looked worried, and hardly spoke to one another; they did noteven tease Marfinka and her fiance. Vera and grandmother were silent.What had happened to the whole house? It was the first trouble thatMarfinka had encountered in her happy life, and she fell inunconsciously with the serious, dull tone that obtained in Malinovka.

  Silence, reserve and melancholy were equally foreign to Vikentev'snature. He urged his mother to persuade Tatiana Markovna to allowMarfinka to go back with them to Kolchino until the wedding at the endof October. To his surprise permission was given easily and quickly, andthe young people flew like swallows from autumn to the warmth, light
,and brightness of their future home.

  Raisky drove over to fetch Tiet Nikonich. He was haggard and yellow, andhardly stirred from his place, and he only gradually recovered, like achild whose toys have been restored to him, when he saw Tatiana Markovnain her usual surroundings and found himself in the middle of the picture,either at table with his serviette tucked in his collar, or in thewindow on the stool near her chair, with a cup of tea before him pouredout by her hands.

  Another member was added to the family circle at Malinovka, for Raiskybrought Koslov to dinner one day, to receive the heartiest of welcomes.Tatiana Markovna had the tact not to let the poor forsaken man see thatshe was aware of his trouble. She greeted him with a jest.

  "Why have you not been near us for so long, Leonti Ivanovich? Borushkasays that I don't know how to entertain you, and that you don't like mytable. Did you tell him so?"

  "How should I not like it? When did I say such a thing?" he asked Raiskyseverely. "You are joking!" he went on, as everybody laughed, and hehimself had to smile.

  He had had time to find his own bearings, and had begun to realise thenecessity of hiding his grief from others.

  "Yes, it is a long time since I was here. My wife has gone to Moscow tovisit her relations, so that I could not...."

  "You ought to have come straight to us," observed Tatiana Markovna,"when it was so dull by yourself at home."

  "I expect her, and am always afraid she may come when I am not at home."

  "You would soon hear of her arrival, and she must pass our house. Fromthe windows of the old house we can see who comes along the road, and wewill stop her."

  "It is true that the road to Moscow can be seen from there," said Koslov,looking quickly, and almost happily, at his hostess.

  "Come and stay with us," she said.

  "I simply will not let you go to-day," said Raisky. "I am bored bymyself, and we will move over into the old house. After Marfinka'swedding I am going away, and you will be Grandmother's and Vera's firstminister, friend and protector."

  "Thank you. If I am not in the way...."

  "How can you talk like that. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."

  "Forgive me, Tatiana Markovna."

  "Better eat your dinner; the soup is getting cold."

  "I am hungry too," he said suddenly, seizing his spoon. He ate his soupsilently, looking round him as if he were seeking the road to Moscow,and he preserved the same demeanour all through the meal.

  "It is so quiet here," he said after dinner, as he looked out of thewindow. "There is still some green left, and the air is so fresh. Listen,Boris Pavlovich, I should like to bring the library here."

  "As you like. To-morrow, as far as I am concerned. It is your possessionto do as you please with."

  "What should I do with it now? I will have it brought over, so that Ican take care of it; else in the end that man Mark will...."

  Raisky strode about the room, Vera's eyes were fixed on her needlework,and Tatiana Markovna went to the window. Shortly after this Raisky tookLeonti to the old house, to show him the room that Tatiana Markovna hadarranged for him. Leonti went from one window to another to see which ofthem commanded a view of the Moscow road.