the wife and other stories-第41章

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As　the　summer　advanced　my　uncle　grew　more　and　more　frivolous；　volatile；　and　careless。　Pobyedimsky　was　completely　disillusioned　in　regard　to　him。

〃He　is　too　one…sided；〃　he　said。　〃There　is　nothing　to　show　that　he　is　in　the　very　foremost　ranks　of　the　service。　And　he　doesn't　even　know　how　to　talk。　At　every　word　it's　'upon　my　soul。'　No；　I　don't　like　him！〃

From　the　time　that　my　uncle　began　visiting　the　lodge　there　was　a　noticeable　change　both　in　Fyodor　and　my　tutor。　Fyodor　gave　up　going　out　shooting；　came　home　early；　sat　more　taciturn　than　ever；　and　stared　with　particular　ill…humour　at　his　wife。　In　my　uncle's　presence　my　tutor　gave　up　talking　about　epizootics；　frowned；　and　even　laughed　sarcastically。

〃Here　comes　our　little　bantam　cock！〃　he　growled　on　one　occasion　when　my　uncle　was　coming　into　the　lodge。

I　put　down　this　change　in　them　both　to　their　being　offended　with　my　uncle。　My　absent…minded　uncle　mixed　up　their　names；　and　to　the　very　day　of　his　departure　failed　to　distinguish　which　was　my　tutor　and　which　was　Tatyana　Ivanovna's　husband。　Tatyana　Ivanovna　herself　he　sometimes　called　Nastasya；　sometimes　Pelagea；　and　sometimes　Yevdokia。　Touched　and　delighted　by　us；　he　laughed　and　behaved　exactly　as　though　in　the　company　of　small　children。　。　。　。　All　this；　of　course；　might　well　offend　young　men。　It　was　not　a　case　of　offended　pride；　however；　but；　as　I　realize　now；　subtler　feelings。

I　remember　one　evening　I　was　sitting　on　the　box　struggling　with　sleep。　My　eyelids　felt　glued　together　and　my　body；　tired　out　by　running　about　all　day；　drooped　sideways。　But　I　struggled　against　sleep　and　tried　to　look　on。　It　was　about　midnight。　Tatyana　Ivanovna；　rosy　and　unassuming　as　always；　was　sitting　at　a　little　table　sewing　at　her　husband's　shirt。　Fyodor；　sullen　and　gloomy；　was　staring　at　her　from　one　corner；　and　in　the　other　sat　Pobyedimsky；　snorting　angrily　and　retreating　into　the　high　collar　of　his　shi　rt。　My　uncle　was　walking　up　and　down　the　room　thinking。　Silence　reigned；　nothing　was　to　be　heard　but　the　rustling　of　the　linen　in　Tatyana　Ivanovna's　hands。　Suddenly　my　uncle　stood　still　before　Tatyana　Ivanovna；　and　said：

〃You　are　all　so　young；　so　fresh；　so　nice；　you　live　so　peacefully　in　this　quiet　place；　that　I　envy　you。　I　have　become　attached　to　your　way　of　life　here；　my　heart　aches　when　I　remember　I　have　to　go　away。　。　。　。　You　may　believe　in　my　sincerity！〃

Sleep　closed　my　eyes　and　I　lost　myself。　When　some　sound　waked　me；　my　uncle　was　standing　before　Tatyana　Ivanovna；　looking　at　her　with　a　softened　expression。　His　cheeks　were　flushed。

〃My　life　has　been　wasted；〃　he　said。　〃I　have　not　lived！　Your　young　face　makes　me　think　of　my　own　lost　youth；　and　I　should　be　ready　to　sit　here　watching　you　to　the　day　of　my　death。　It　would　be　a　pleasure　to　me　to　take　you　with　me　to　Petersburg。〃

〃What　for？〃　Fyodor　asked　in　a　husky　voice。

〃I　should　put　her　under　a　glass　case　on　my　work…table。　I　should　admire　her　and　show　her　to　other　people。　You　know；　Pelagea　Ivanovna；　we　have　no　women　like　you　there。　Among　us　there　is　wealth；　distinction；　sometimes　beauty；　but　we　have　not　this　true　sort　of　life；　this　healthy　serenity。　。　。　。〃

My　uncle　sat　down　facing　Tatyana　Ivanovna　and　took　her　by　the　hand。

〃So　you　won't　come　with　me　to　Petersburg？〃　he　laughed。　〃In　that　case　give　me　your　little　hand。　。　。　。　A　charming　little　hand！　。　。　。　You　won't　give　it？　Come；　you　miser！　let　me　kiss　it；　anyway。　。　。　。〃

At　that　moment　there　was　the　scrape　of　a　chair。　Fyodor　jumped　up；　and　with　heavy；　measured　steps　went　up　to　his　wife。　His　face　was　pale；　grey；　and　quivering。　He　brought　his　fist　down　on　the　table　with　a　bang；　and　said　in　a　hollow　voice：

〃I　won't　allow　it！

At　the　same　moment　Pobyedimsky　jumped　up　from　his　chair。　He；　too；　pale　and　angry；　went　up　to　Tatyana　Ivanovna；　and　he；　too；　struck　the　table　with　his　fist。

〃I　。　。　。　I　won't　allow　it！〃　he　said。

〃What；　what's　the　matter？〃　asked　my　uncle　in　surprise。

〃I　won't　allow　it！〃　repeated　Fyodor；　banging　on　the　table。

My　uncle　jumped　up　and　blinked　nervously。　He　tried　to　speak；　but　in　his　amazement　and　alarm　could　not　utter　a　word；　with　an　embarrassed　smile；　he　shuffled　out　of　the　lodge　with　the　hurried　step　of　an　old　man；　leaving　his　hat　behind。　When；　a　little　later；　my　mother　ran　into　the　lodge；　Fyodor　and　Pobyedimsky　were　still　hammering　on　the　table　like　blacksmiths　and　repeating；　〃I　won't　allow　it！〃

〃What　has　happened　here？〃　asked　mother。　〃Why　has　my　brother　been　taken　ill？　What's　the　matter？〃

Looking　at　Tatyana's　pale；　frightened　face　and　at　her　infuriated　husband；　mother　probably　guessed　what　was　the　matter。　She　sighed　and　shook　her　head。

〃Come！　give　over　banging　on　the　table！〃　she　said。　〃Leave　off；　Fyodor！　And　why　are　you　thumping；　Yegor　Alexyevitch？　What　have　you　got　to　do　with　it？〃

Pobyedimsky　was　startled　and　confused。　Fyodor　looked　intently　at　him；　then　at　his　wife；　and　began　walking　about　the　room。　When　mother　had　gone　out　of　the　lodge；　I　saw　what　for　long　afterwards　I　looked　upon　as　a　dream。　I　saw　Fyodor　seize　my　tutor；　lift　him　up　in　the　air；　and　thrust　him　out　of　the　door。

When　I　woke　up　in　the　morning　my　tutor's　bed　was　empty。　To　my　question　where　he　was　nurse　told　me　in　a　whisper　that　he　had　been　taken　off　early　in　the　morning　to　the　hospital；　as　his　arm　was　broken。　Distressed　at　this　intelligence　and　remembering　the　scene　of　the　previous　evening；　I　went　out　of　doors。　It　was　a　grey　day。　The　sky　was　covered　with　storm…clouds　and　there　was　a　wind　blowing　dust；　bits　of　paper；　and　feathers　along　the　ground。　。　。　。　It　felt　as　though　rain　were　coming。　There　was　a　look　of　boredom　in　the　servants　and　in　the　animals。　When　I　went　into　the　house　I　was　told　not　to　make　such　a　noise　with　my　feet；　as　mother　was　ill　and　in　bed　with　a　migraine。　What　was　I　to　do？　I　went　outside　the　gate；　sat　down　on　the　little　bench　there；　and　fell　to　trying　to　discover　the　meaning　of　what　I　had　seen　and　heard　the　day　before。　From　our　gate　there　was　a　road　which；　passing　the　forge　and　the　pool　which　never　dried　up；　ran　into　the　main　road。　I　looked　at　the　telegraph…posts；　about　which　clouds　of　dust　were　whirling；　and　at　the　sleepy　birds　sitting　on　the　wires；　and　I　suddenly　felt　so　dreary　that　I　began　to　cry。

A　dusty　wagonette　crammed　full　of　townspeople；　probably　going　to　visit　the　shrine；　drove　by　along　the　main　road。　The　wagonette　was　hardly　out　of　sight　when　a　light　chaise　with　a　pair　of　horses　came　into　view。　In　it　was　Akim　Nikititch；　the　police　inspector；　standing　up　and　holding　on　to　the　coachman's　belt。　To　my　great　surprise；　the　chaise　turned　into　our　road　and　flew　by　me　in　at　the　gate。　While　I　was　puzzling　why　the　police　inspector　had　come　to　see　us；　I　heard　a　noise；　and　a　carriage　with　three　horses　came　into　sight　on　the　road。　In　the　carriage　stood　the　police　captain；　directing　his　coachman　towards　our　gate。

〃And　why　is　he　coming？〃　I　thought；　looking　at　the　dusty　police　captain。　〃Most　probably　Pobyedimsky　has　complained　of　Fyodor　to　him；　and　they　have　come　to　take　him　to　prison。〃

But　the　mystery　was　not　so　easily　solved。　The　police　inspector　and　the　police　captain　were　only　the　first　instalment；　for　five　minutes　had　scarcely　passed　when　a　coach　drove　in　at　our　gate。　It　dashed　by　me　so　swiftly　that　I　could　only　get　a　glimpse　of　a　red　beard。

Lost　in　conjecture　and　full　of　misgivings；　I　ran　to　the　house。　In　the　passage　first　of　all　I　saw　mother；　she　was　pale　and　looking　with　horror　towards　the　door；　from　which　came　the　sounds　of　men's　voices。　The　visitors　had　taken　her　by　surprise　in　the　very　throes　of　migraine。

〃Who　has　come；　mother？〃　I　asked。

〃Sister；〃　I　heard　my　uncle's　voice；　〃will　you　send　in　something　to　eat　for　the　governor　and　me？〃

〃It　is　easy　to　say　'something　to　eat；'　〃　whispered　my　mother；　numb　with　horror。　〃What　have　I　time　to　get　ready　now？　I　am　put　to　shame　in　my　old　age！〃

Mother　clutched　at　her　head　and　ran　into　the　kitchen。　The　governor's　sudden　visit　stirred　and　overwhelmed　the　whole　household。　A　ferocious　slaughter　followed。　A　dozen　fowls；　five　turkeys；　eight　ducks；　were　killed；　and　in　the　fluster　the　old　gander；　the　progenitor　of　our　whole　flock　of　geese　and　a　great　favourite　of　mother's；　was　beheaded。　The　coachmen　and　the　cook　seemed　frenzied；　and　slaughtered