A Sportsman's Sketches: Works of Ivan Turgenev 1

by Ivan Turgenev

“Shouldn’t we light a lantern?” said Fyodor in a low voice.

  But Naum waved his hand and held his breath.... At first he could hear nothing but those nocturnal sounds which can almost always be heard in an inhabited place: a horse was munching oats, a pig grunted faintly in its sleep, a man was snoring somewhere; but all at once his ear detected a suspicious sound coming from the very end of the yard, near the fence.

  Someone seemed to be stirring there, and breathing or blowing. Naum looked over his shoulder towards Fyodor and cautiously descending the steps went towards the sound.... Once or twice he stopped, listened and stole on further.... Suddenly he started.... Ten paces from him, in the thick darkness there came the flash of a bright light: it was a glowing ember and close to it there was visible for an instant the front part of a face with lips thrust out.... Quickly and silently, like a cat at a mouse, Naum darted to the fire.... Hurriedly rising up from the ground a long body rushed to meet him and, nearly knocking him off his feet, almost eluded his grasp; but Naum hung on to it with all his strength.

  “Fyodor! Andrey! Petrushka!” he shouted at the top of his voice. “Make haste! here! here! I’ve caught a thief trying to set fire to the place....”

  The man whom he had caught fought and struggled violently ... but Naum did not let him go. Fyodor at once ran to his assistance.

  “A lantern! Make haste, a lantern! Run for a lantern, wake the others!” Naum shouted to him. “I can manage him alone for a time - - I am sitting on him.... Make haste! And bring a belt to tie his hands.”

  Fyodor ran into the house.... The man whom Naum was holding suddenly left off struggling.

  “So it seems wife and money and home are not enough for you, you want to ruin me, too,” he said in a choking voice.

  Naum recognised Akim’s voice.

  “So that’s you, my friend,” he brought out; “very good, you wait a bit.”

  “Let me go,” said Akim, “aren’t you satisfied?”

  “I’ll show you before the judge to - morrow whether I am satisfied,” and Naum tightened his grip of Akim.

  The labourers ran up with two lanterns and cords. “Tie his arms,” Naum ordered sharply. The men caught hold of Akim, stood him up and twisted his arms behind his back.... One of them began abusing him, but recognising the former owner of the inn lapsed into silence and only exchanged glances with the others.

  “Do you see, do you see!” Naum kept repeating, meanwhile throwing the light of the lantern on the ground, “there are hot embers in the pot; look, there’s a regular log alight here! We must find out where he got this pot ... here, he has broken up twigs, too,” and Naum carefully stamped out the fire with his foot. “Search him, Fyodor,” he added, “see if he hasn’t got something else on him.”

  Fyodor rummaged Akim’s pockets and felt him all over while the old man stood motionless, with his head drooping on his breast as though he were dead.

  “Here’s a knife,” said Fyodor, taking an old kitchen knife out of the front of Akim’s coat.

  “Aha, my fine gentleman, so that’s what you were after,” cried Naum. “Lads, you are witnesses ... here he wanted to murder me and set fire to the house.... Lock him up for the night in the cellar, he can’t get out of that.... I’ll keep watch all night myself and to - morrow as soon as it is light we will take him to the police captain ... and you are witnesses, do you hear!”

  Akim was thrust into the cellar and the door was slammed.... Naum set two men to watch it and did not go to bed himself.

  Meanwhile, Yefrem’s wife having convinced herself that her uninvited guest had gone, set about her cooking though it was hardly daylight.... It was a holiday. She squatted down before the stove to get a hot ember and saw that someone had scraped out the hot ashes before her; then she wanted her knife and searched for it in vain; then of her four cooking pots one was missing. Yefrem’s wife had the reputation of being a woman with brains, and justly so. She stood and pondered, then went to the lumber room, to her husband. It was not easy to wake him - - and still more difficult to explain to him why he was being awakened.... To all that she said to him Yefrem made the same answer.

  “He’s gone away - - well, God bless him.... What business is it of mine? He’s taken our knife and our pot - - well, God bless him, what has it to do with me?”

  At last, however, he got up and after listening attentively to his wife came to the conclusion that it was a bad business, that something must be done.

  “Yes,” his wife repeated, “it is a bad business; maybe he will be doing mischief in his despair.... I saw last night that he was not asleep but was just lying on the stove; it would be as well for you to go and see, Yefrem Alexandritch.”

  “I tell you what, Ulyana Fyodorovna,” Yefrem began, “I’ll go myself to the inn now, and you be so kind, mother, as to give me just a drop to sober me.”

  Ulyana hesitated.

  “Well,” she decided at last, “I’ll give you the vodka, Yefrem Alexandritch; but mind now, none of your pranks.”

  “Don’t you worry, Ulyana Fyodorovna.”

  And fortifying himself with a glass, Yefrem made his way to the inn.

  It was only just getting light when he rode up to the inn but, already a cart and a horse were standing at the gate and one of Naum’s labourers was sitting on the box holding the reins.

  “Where are you off to?” asked Yefrem.

  “To the town,” the man answered reluctantly.

  “What for?”

  The man simply shrugged his shoulders and did not answer. Yefrem jumped off his horse and went into the house. In the entry he came upon Naum, fully dressed and with his cap on.

  “I congratulate the new owner on his new abode,” said Yefrem, who knew him. “Where are you off to so early?”

  “Yes, you have something to congratulate me on,” Naum answered grimly. “On the very first day the house has almost been burnt down.”

  Yefrem started. “How so?”

  “Oh, a kind soul turned up who tried to set fire to it. Luckily I caught him in the act; now I am taking him to the town.”

  “Was it Akim, I wonder?” Yefrem asked slowly.

  “How did you know? Akim. He came at night with a burning log in a pot and got into the yard and was setting fire to it ... all my men are witnesses. Would you like to see him? It’s time for us to take him, by the way.”

  “My good Naum Ivanitch,” Yefrem began, “let him go, don’t ruin the old man altogether. Don’t take that sin upon your soul, Naum Ivanitch. Only think - - the man was in despair - - he didn’t know what he was doing.”

  “Give over that nonsense,” Naum cut him short. “What! Am I likely to let him go! Why, he’d set fire to the house to - morrow if I did.”

  “He wouldn’t, Naum Ivanitch, believe me. Believe me you will be easier yourself for it - - you know there will be questions asked, a trial - - you can see that for yourself.”

  “Well, what if there is a trial? I have no reason to be afraid of it.”

  “My good Naum Ivanitch, one must be afraid of a trial.”

  “Oh, that’s enough. I see you are drunk already, and to - day a saint’s day, too!”

  Yefrem all at once, quite unexpectedly, burst into tears.

  “I am drunk but I am speaking the truth,” he muttered. “And for the sake of the holiday you ought to forgive him.”

  “Well, come along, you sniveller.”

  And Naum went out on to the steps.

  “Forgive him, for Avdotya Arefyevna’s sake,” said Yefrem following him on to the steps.

  Naum went to the cellar and flung the door wide open. With timid curiosity Yefrem craned his neck from behind Naum and with difficulty made out the figure of Akim in the corner of the cellar. The once well - to - do innkeeper, respected all over the neighbourhood, was sitting on straw with his hands tied behind him like a criminal. Hearing a noise he raised his head.... It seemed as though he had grown fearfully thin in those last few days, especially during the previous night -
- his sunken eyes could hardly be seen under his high, waxen - yellow forehead, his parched lips looked dark ... his whole face was changed and wore a strange expression - - savage and frightened.

  “Get up and come along,” said Naum.

  Akim got up and stepped over the threshold.

  “Akim Semyonitch!” Yefrem wailed, “you’ve brought ruin on yourself, my dear!”

  Akim glanced at him without speaking.

  “If I had known why you asked for vodka I would not have given it to you, I really would not. I believe I would have drunk it all myself! Eh, Naum Ivanitch,” he added clutching at Naum’s arm, “have mercy upon him, let him go!”

  “What next!” Naum replied with a grin. “Well, come along,” he added addressing Akim again. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Naum Ivanitch,” Akim began.

  “What is it?”

  “Naum Ivanitch,” Akim repeated, “listen: I am to blame; I wanted to settle my accounts with you myself; but God must be the judge between us. You have taken everything from me, you know yourself, everything I had. Now you can ruin me, only I tell you this: if you let me go now, then - - so be it - - take possession of everything! I agree and wish you all success. I promise you as before God, if you let me go you will not regret it. God be with you.”

  Akim shut his eyes and ceased speaking.

  “A likely story!” retorted Naum, “as though one could believe you!”

  “But, by God, you can,” said Yefrem, “you really can. I’d stake my life on Akim Semyonitch’s good faith - - I really would.”

  “Nonsense,” cried Naum. “Come along.”

  Akim looked at him.

  “As you think best, Naum Ivanitch. It’s for you to decide. But you are laying a great burden on your soul. Well, if you are in such a hurry, let us start.”

  Naum in his turn looked keenly at Akim.

  “After all,” he thought to himself, “hadn’t I better let him go? Or people will never have done pestering me about him. Avdotya will give me no peace.” While Naum was reflecting, no one uttered a word. The labourer in the cart who could see it all through the gate did nothing but toss his head and flick the horse’s sides with the reins. The two other labourers stood on the steps and they too were silent.

  “Well, listen, old man,” Naum began, “when I let you go and tell these fellows” (he motioned with his head towards the labourers) “not to talk, shall we be quits - - do you understand me - - quits ... eh?”

  “I tell you, you can have it all.”

  “You won’t consider me in your debt?”

  “You won’t be in my debt, I shall not be in yours.”

  Naum was silent again.

  “And will you swear it?”

  “Yes, as God is holy,” answered Akim.

  “Well, I know I shall regret it,” said Naum, “but there, come what may! Give me your hands.”

  Akim turned his back to him; Naum began untying him.

  “Now, mind, old man,” he added as he pulled the cord off his wrists, “remember, I have spared you, mind that!”

  “Naum Ivanitch, my dear,” faltered Yefrem, “the Lord will have mercy upon you!”

  Akim freed his chilled and swollen hands and was moving towards the gate.

  Naum suddenly “showed the Jew” as the saying is - - he must have regretted that he had let Akim off.

  “You’ve sworn now, mind!” he shouted after him. Akim turned, and looking round the yard, said mournfully, “Possess it all, so be it forever! ... Good - bye.”

  And he went slowly out into the road accompanied by Yefrem. Naum ordered the horse to be unharnessed and with a wave of his hand went back into the house.

  “Where are you off to, Akim Semyonitch? Aren’t you coming back to me?” cried Yefrem, seeing that Akim was hurrying to the right out of the high road.

  “No, Yefremushka, thank you,” answered Akim. “I am going to see what my wife is doing.”

  “You can see afterwards.... But now we ought to celebrate the occasion.”

  “No, thank you, Yefrem.... I’ve had enough. Good - bye.”

  And Akim walked off without looking round.

  “Well! ‘I’ve had enough’!” the puzzled sacristan pronounced. “And I pledged my word for him! Well, I never expected this,” he added, with vexation, “after I had pledged my word for him, too!”

  He remembered that he had not thought to take his knife and his pot and went back to the inn.... Naum ordered his things to be given to him but never even thought of offering him a drink. He returned home thoroughly annoyed and thoroughly sober.

  “Well?” his wife inquired, “found?”

  “Found what?” answered Yefrem, “to be sure I’ve found it: here is your pot.”

  “Akim?” asked his wife with especial emphasis.

  Yefrem nodded his head.

  “Yes. But he is a nice one! I pledged my word for him; if it had not been for me he’d be lying in prison, and he never offered me a drop! Ulyana Fyodorovna, you at least might show me consideration and give me a glass!”

  But Ulyana Fyodorovna did not show him consideration and drove him out of her sight.

  Meanwhile, Akim was walking with slow steps along the road to Lizaveta Prohorovna’s house. He could not yet fully grasp his position; he was trembling all over like a man who had just escaped from a certain death. He seemed unable to believe in his freedom. In dull bewilderment he gazed at the fields, at the sky, at the larks quivering in the warm air. From the time he had woken up on the previous morning at Yefrem’s he had not slept, though he had lain on the stove without moving; at first he had wanted to drown in vodka the insufferable pain of humiliation, the misery of frenzied and impotent anger ... but the vodka had not been able to stupefy him completely; his anger became overpowering and he began to think how to punish the man who had wronged him.... He thought of no one but Naum; the idea of Lizaveta Prohorovna never entered his head and on Avdotya he mentally turned his back. By the evening his thirst for revenge had grown to a frenzy, and the good - natured and weak man waited with feverish impatience for the approach of night and ran, like a wolf to its prey, to destroy his old home.... But then he had been caught ... locked up.... The night had followed. What had he not thought over during that cruel night! It is difficult to put into words all that a man passes through at such moments, all the tortures that he endures; more difficult because those tortures are dumb and inarticulate in the man himself.... Towards morning, before Naum and Yefrem had come to the door, Akim had begun to feel as it were more at ease. Everything is lost, he thought, everything is scattered and gone ... and he dismissed it all. If he had been naturally bad - hearted he might at that moment have become a criminal; but evil was not natural to Akim. Under the shock of undeserved and unexpected misfortune, in the delirium of despair he had brought himself to crime; it had shaken him to the depths of his being and, failing, had left in him nothing but intense weariness.... Feeling his guilt in his mind he mentally tore himself from all things earthly and began praying, bitterly but fervently. At first he prayed in a whisper, then perhaps by accident he uttered a loud “Oh, God!” and tears gushed from his eyes.... For a long time he wept and at last grew quieter.... His thoughts would probably have changed if he had had to pay the penalty of his attempted crime ... but now he had suddenly been set free ... and he was walking to see his wife, feeling only half alive, utterly crushed but calm.

  Lizaveta Prohorovna’s house stood about a mile from her village to the left of the cross road along which Akim was walking. He was about to stop at the turning that led to his mistress’s house ... but he walked on instead. He decided first to go to what had been his hut, where his uncle lived.

  Akim’s small and somewhat dilapidated hut was almost at the end of the village; Akin walked through the whole street without meeting a soul. All the people were at church. Only one sick old woman raised a little window to look after him and a little girl who had run out with an empty pail to the well gap
ed at him, and she too looked after him. The first person he met was the uncle he was looking for. The old man had been sitting all the morning on the ledge under his window taking pinches of snuff and warming himself in the sun; he was not very well, so he had not gone to church; he was just setting off to visit another old man, a neighbour who was also ailing, when he suddenly saw Akim.... He stopped, let him come up to him and glancing into his face, said:

  “Good - day, Akimushka!”

  “Good - day,” answered Akim, and passing the old man went in at the gate. In the yard were standing his horses, his cow, his cart; his poultry, too, were there.... He went into the hut without a word. The old man followed him. Akim sat down on the bench and leaned his fists on it. The old man standing at the door looked at him compassionately.

  “And where is my wife?” asked Akim.

  “At the mistress’s house,” the old man answered quickly. “She is there. They put your cattle here and what boxes there were, and she has gone there. Shall I go for her?”

  Akim was silent for a time.

  “Yes, do,” he said at last.

  “Oh, uncle, uncle,” he brought out with a sigh while the old man was taking his hat from a nail, “do you remember what you said to me the day before my wedding?”

  “It’s all God’s will, Akimushka.”

  “Do you remember you said to me that I was above you peasants, and now you see what times have come.... I’m stripped bare myself.”

  “There’s no guarding oneself from evil folk,” answered the old man, “if only someone such as a master, for instance, or someone in authority, could give him a good lesson, the shameless fellow - - but as it is, he has nothing to be afraid of. He is a wolf and he behaves like one.” And the old man put on his cap and went off.

  Avdotya had just come back from church when she was told that her husband’s uncle was asking for her. Till then she had rarely seen him; he did not come to see them at the inn and had the reputation of being queer altogether: he was passionately fond of snuff and was usually silent.

  She went out to him.

  “What do you want, Petrovitch? Has anything happened?”

  “Nothing has happened, Avdotya Arefyevna; your husband is asking for you.”