youth-第33章

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and　pretend　that　I　was　their　protector。　In　the　evening；　if　we　had

no　guests　with　us；　tea　（served　in　the　dim　verandah）；would　be

followed　by　a　walk　round　the　homestead　with　Papa；　and　then　I

would　stretch　myself　on　my　usual　settee；　and　read　and　ponder　as

of　old；　as　I　listened　to　Katenka　or　Lubotshka　playing。　At　other

times；　if　I　was　alone　in　the　drawing…room　and　Lubotshka　was

performing　some　old…time　air；　I　would　find　myself　laying　my　book

down；　and　gazing　through　the　open　doorway　on　to　the　balcony　at

the　pendent；　sinuous　branches　of　the　tall　birch…trees　where　they

stood　overshadowed　by　the　coming　night；　and　at　the　clear　sky

where；　if　one　looked　at　it　intently　enough；　misty；　yellowish

spots　would　appear　suddenly；　and　then　disappear　again。　Next；　as　I

listened　to　the　sounds　of　the　music　wafted　from　the　salon；　and　to

the　creaking　of　gates　and　the　voices　of　the　peasant　women　when

the　cattle　returned　to　the　village；　I　would　suddenly　bethink　me

of　Natalia　Savishna　and　of　Mamma　and　of　Karl　Ivanitch；　and　become

momentarily　sad。　But　in　those　days　my　spirit　was　so　full　of　life

and　hope　that　such　reminiscences　only　touched　me　in　passing；　and

soon　fled　away　again。



After　supper　and　（sometimes）　a　night　stroll　with　some　one　in　the

garden　（for　I　was　afraid　to　walk　down　the　dark　avenues　by

myself）；　I　would　repair　to　my　solitary　sleeping…place　on　the

verandaha　proceeding　which；　despite　the　countless　mosquitos

which　always　devoured　me；　afforded　me　the　greatest　pleasure。　If

the　moon　was　full；　I　frequently　spent　whole　nights　sitting　up　on

my　mattress；　looking　at　the　light　and　shade；　listening　to　the

sounds　or　stillness；　dreaming　of　one　matter　and　another　（but　more

particularly　of　the　poetic；　voluptuous　happiness　which；　in　those

days；　I　believed　was　to　prove　the　acme　of　my　felicity）　and

lamenting　that　until　now　it　had　only　been　given　to　me　to　IMAGINE

things。　No　sooner　had　every　one　dispersed；　and　I　had　seen　lights

pass　from　the　drawing…room　to　the　upper　chambers　（whence　female

voices　would　presently　be　heard；　and　the　noise　of　windows　opening

and　shutting）；　than　I　would　depart　to　the　verandah；　and　walk　up

and　down　there　as　I　listened　attentively　to　the　sounds　from　the

slumbering　mansion。　To　this　day；　whenever　I　feel　any　expectation

（no　matter　how　small　and　baseless）　of　realising　a　fraction　of

some　happiness　of　which　I　may　be　dreaming；　I　somehow　invariably

fail　to　picture　to　myself　what　the　imagined　happiness　is　going　to

be　like。



At　the　least　sound　of　bare　footsteps；　or　of　a　cough；　or　of　a

snore；　or　of　the　rattling　of　a　window；　or　of　the　rustling　of　a

dress；　I　would　leap　from　my　mattress；　and　stand　furtively　gazing

and　listening；　thrown；　without　any　visible　cause；　into　extreme

agitation。　But　the　lights　would　disappear　from　the　upper　rooms；

the　sounds　of　footsteps　and　talking　give　place　to　snores；　the

watchman　begin　his　nightly　tapping　with　his　stick；　the　garden

grow　brighter　and　more　mysterious　as　the　streaks　of　light

vanished　from　the　windows；　the　last　candle　pass　from　the　pantry

to　the　hall　（throwing　a　glimmer　into　the　dewy　garden　as　it　did

so）；　and　the　stooping　figure　of　Foka　（decked　in　a　nightcap；　and

carrying　the　candle）　become　visible　to　my　eyes　as　he　went　to　his

bed。　Often　I　would　find　a　great　and　fearful　pleasure　in　stealing

over　the　grass；　in　the　black　shadow　of　the　house；　until　I　had

reached　the　hall　window；　where　I　would　stand　listening　with　bated

breath　to　the　snoring　of　the　boy；　to　Foka's　gruntings　（in　the

belief　that　no　one　heard　him）；　and　to　the　sound　of　his　senile

voice　as　he　drawled　out　the　evening　prayers。　At　length　even　his

candle　would　be　extinguished；　and　the　window　slammed　down；　so

that　I　would　find　myself　utterly　alone；　whereupon；　glancing

nervously　from　side　to　side；　lest　haply　I　should　see　the　white

woman　standing　near　a　flower…bed　or　by　my　couch；　I　would　run　at

full　speed　back　to　the　verandah。　Then；　and　only　then；　I　would　lie

down　with　my　face　to　the　garden；　and；　covering　myself　over；　so

far　as　possible；　from　the　mosquitos　and　bats；　fall　to　gazing　in

front　of　me　as　I　listened　to　the　sounds　of　the　night　and　dreamed

of　love　and　happiness。



At　such　times　everything　would　take　on　for　me　a　different

meaning。　The　look　of　the　old　birch　trees；　with　the　one　side　of

their　curling　branches　showing　bright　against　the　moonlit　sky；

and　the　other　darkening　the　bushes　and　carriage…drive　with　their

black　shadows；　the　calm；　rich　glitter　of　the　pond；　ever　swelling

like　a　sound；　the　moonlit　sparkle　of　the　dewdrops　on　the　flowers

in　front　of　the　verandah；　the　graceful　shadows　of　those　flowers

where　they　lay　thrown　upon　the　grey　stonework；　the　cry　of　a　quail

on　the　far　side　of　the　pond；　the　voice　of　some　one　walking　on　the

high　road；　the　quiet；　scarcely　audible　scrunching　of　two　old

birch　trees　against　one　another；　the　humming　of　a　mosquito　at　my

car　under　the　coverlet；　the　fall　of　an　apple　as　it　caught　against

a　branch　and　rustled　among　the　dry　leaves；　the　leapings　of　frogs

as　they　approached　almost　to　the　verandah…steps　arid　sat　with　the

moon　shining　mysteriously　on　their　green　backsall　these　things

took　on　for　me　a　strange　significancea　significance　of

exceeding　beauty　and　of　infinite　love。　Before　me　would　rise　SHE；

with　long　black　tresses　and　a　high　bust；　but　always　mournful　in

her　fairness；　with　bare　hands　and　voluptuous　arms。　She　loved　me；

and　for　one　moment　of　her　love　I　would　sacrifice　my　whole　life！

But　the　moon　would　go　on　rising　higher　and　higher；　and　shining

brighter　and　brighter；　in　the　heavens；　the　rich　sparkle　of　the

pond　would　swell　like　a　sound；　and　become　ever　more　and　more

brilliant；　while　the　shadows　would　grow　blacker　and　blacker；　and

the　sheen　of　the　moon　more　and　more　transparent：　until；　as　I

looked　at　and　listened　to　all　this；　something　would　say　to　me

that　SHE　with　the　bare　hands　and　voluptuous　arms　did　not

represent　ALL　happiness；　that　love　for　her　did　not　represent　ALL

good；　so　that；　the　more　I　gazed　at　the　full；　high…riding　moon；

the　higher　would　true　beauty　and　goodness　appear　to　me　to　lie；

and　the　purer　and　purer　they　would　seemthe　nearer　and　nearer　to

Him　who　is　the　source　of　all　beauty　and　all　goodness。　And　tears

of　a　sort　of　unsatisfied；　yet　tumultuous；　joy　would　fill　my　eyes。



Always；　too；　I　was　alone；　yet　always；　too；　it　seemed　to　me　that；

although　great；　mysterious　Nature　could　draw　the　shining　disc　of

the　moon　to　herself；　and　somehow　hold　in　some　high；　indefinite

place　the　pale…blue　sky；　and　be　everywhere　around　me；　and　fill　of

herself　the　infinity　of　space；　while　I　was　but　a　lowly　worm；

already　defiled　with　the　poor；　petty　passions　of　humanityalways

it　seemed　to　me　that；　nevertheless；　both　Nature　and　the　moon　and

I　were　one。



XXXIII



OUR　NEIGHBOURS



ON　the　first　day　after　our　arrival；　I　had　been　greatly　astonished

that　Papa　should　speak　of　our　neighbours；　the　Epifanovs；　as　〃nice

people；〃　and　still　more　so　that　he　should　go　to　call　upon　them。

The　fact　was　that　we　had　long　been　at　law　over　some　land　with

this　family。　When　a　child；　I　had　more　than　once　heard　Papa　raging

over　the　litigation；　abusing　the　Epifanovs；　and　warning　people

（so　I　understood　him）　against　them。　Likewise；　I　had　heard　Jakoff

speak　of　them　as　〃our　enemies〃　and　〃black　people〃　and　could

remember　Mamma　requesting　that　their　names　should　never　be

mentioned　in　her　presence；　nor；　indeed；　in　the　house　at　all。



From　these　data　I；　as　a　child；　had　arrived　at　the　clear　and　assured

conviction　that　the　Epifanovs　were　foemen　of　ours　who　would　at

any　time　stab　or　strangle　both　Papa　and　his　sons　if　they　should

ever　come　across　them；　as　well　as　that　they　were　〃black　people〃；

in　the　literal　sense　of　the　term。　Consequently；　when；　in　the　year

that　Mamma　died；　I　chanced　to　catch　sight　of　Avdotia　（〃La　Belle

Flamande〃）　on　the　occasion　of　a　visit　which　she　paid　to　my

mother；　I　found　it　hard　to　believe　that　she　did　not　come　of　a

family　of　negroes。　All　the　same；　I　had　the　lo