A common story

by Ivan Goncharov

  " Here, don't forget this," screamed a girl, holding up a small parcel above her head.

  " Give it here!"

  " Stuff this in somehow into the trunk, it's been forgotten to the last," said another, jumping on the steps and handing in a brush and comb.

  " Where can one stuff it now ?" cried the stout valet angrily to her. " Get away with you, you see the trunk is at the very bottom."

  " It's the mistress's orders; doesn't matter a straw to me!"

  " Well, give it here, look sharp; we can put it here in the pocket at the side."

  The shaft horse continually lifted and shook his head. The bell every time gave a shrill tinkle, reminding one of partings, but the trace horses stood thoughtfully, their heads lowered, as though they understood all the charms of the journey which lay before them, and sometimes lashed their tails or thrust out an underlip at the shaft horse. At last the fatal minute came. There was another little prayer offered up.

  " Be seated, be seated, all of you !" was Anton Ivanitch's order. " Pray sit down, Alexandr Fedoritch; and you, Yevsay, sit down. Sit down, sit down !" And he himself just sat for a second on the edge of a chair. 4< Now let us go, in God's name."

  At this point Anna Pavlovna broke down and fell upon Alexandr's neck.

  "Farewell, farewell, my dear," was heard among her sobs. " Shall I see you again ?" Nothing more could be distinguished. At this moment the tinkle of another troika-bell was heard; a telega flew into the court, drawn by three horses. From the telega leaped out a young man, covered with dust, who rushed into the room and threw himself on Alexandr's neck.

  " Pospveloffl" —" Adouev!" they exclaimed, at the same instant clasping each other in an embrace.

  "From where—how—have you come?"

  U"

  " From home. I have been galloping day and night) on purpose to say good-bye to you/'

  " Friend, friend ! true friend !" said Adouev with tears in his eyes. "To journey 150 miles to say good-bye ! Oh, there is friendship in the world ! For life, isn't it ? " said Alexandr, passionately clasping his friend's hand and falling into his arms.

  "Till death," he replied, pressing his hand still more warmly as he returned his embrace.

  " Write to me !"

  " Yes, and you too write."

  Anna Pavlovna did not know how to make enough of Pospyeloff. The departure was delayed for half an hour. At last they were ready.

  All went on foot as far as the wood. Sophia and Alexandr seized their chance, while passing through a dark passage, to throw themselves in each other's arms.

  "Sasha, dear Sasha!" " Sonitchka!" they stammered, and their words were lost in a kiss.

  " You will forget me there ? " she said tearfully.

  " Oh, how little you know me! I shall come back; believe me, and never another "

  " Here take this quickly; it is my hair and a ring."

  He quickly put both in his pocket.

  First walked Anna Pavlovna with her son and Pospyeloff, then Maria Karpovna and her daughter, and lastly the priest and Anton Ivanitch. At some distance followed the carriage. The coachman could scarcely hold in the horses. All the servants surrounded Yevsay at the gates.

  " Good-bye, Yevsay Ivanitch; good-bye, old boy, don't forget us !" was heard on all sides.

  " Good-bye, brothers, good-bye, don't remember ill against me."

  " Good-bye, Yevsushka, good-bye, my darling," said his mother, hugging him. " Here is a holy image for you; it is my blessing. Remember the faith, Yevsay. Don't give way to drink or thieving; serve the master faithfully and well. Good-bye, good-bye!"

  She hid her face in her apron and went away.

  " Good-bye, mother," said Yevsay lazily.

  A little girl of twelve rushed up to him.

  " Say good-bye to your little sister!" said an old woman.

  A COMMON STORY

  23

  " And where have you come from ?" said Yevsay, kissing her, " well, good-bye, good-bye! Run home now to the hut, bare-legs/'

  Agrafena stood last of all, apart from the others. Her face was livid.

  "Good-bye, Agrafena Ivanovna!" said Yevsay, slowly, raising his voice and holding out his hand to her.

  She let him embrace her, but did not respond to his embrace, only her face worked.

  " Here's something for you!" she said, taking a little bag of something from under her apron and thrusting it upon him. " Well of course you will walk out with the Petersburg girls, there!" she said, with a side-long glance at him. And in that glance was apparent all her suffering and her jealousy.

  " I walk out, I ? " began Yevsay. " God blast me, strike me blind, may I sink into the earth, if I do any such thing there."

  " All right, all right!" muttered Agrafena, incredulously, " but inside you—ugh !"

  " All I'd almost f fr r &flttflP 1 " sa 'd Y 5 vs fl v i joking from his pock et a greasy pack of cards. " Fo r a keej)sake^"Xgrafen|i IvanQyjiajZLyflu ) you, know you cc^TTnoJ^get any here." *

  She stretched QuLher- haad.

  " Give it to me, Yevsay Ivanitch!" screamed Proshka out o f the crow d.

  r ouj_ Til j?e damned frefore I^ive it to you,'' and h? put the-€a*ds into bin pooket.

  " But givfijLhfimJp me, stupid!" said^Agrafiena^

  " No ^Agrafena Ivano vn^ 'yfiTTmay do as you like , but I

  ™ nnV ffiy*y™ 1 fV )frn; ypn^"^JLlifiZ^!^^"^""XS>od-bye!" Without looking round he waved his Tiand and slowly moved off to the carriage which he looked as if he could have carried off on his shoulders—Alexandr, coachman and horses and all.

  " Cursed fellow!" said Agrafena, looking after him and wiping away her falling tears with a corner of her apron.

  At the forest a halt was made. While Anna Pavlovna was sobbing and saying good-by to her son, Anton Ivanitch patted one of the horses on the neck, then took him by the nose and shook him backwards and forwards, with which the horse seemed rather displeased, snorting and showing his teeth.

  li Tighten the girth on the off-horse," said he to the coachman, " you see the pad is on one side."

  The coachman looked at the pad and seeing that it was in its place did not get off the box but only straightened the breach a little with his whip.

  " Well, it's time to start, God be with you !" said Anton Ivanitch. " Leave off tormenting yourself, Anna Pavlovna ! And you take your seat, Alexandr Fedoritch; you must reach Shishkov in daylight. Farewell, farewell! God give you happiness, rank, honours, all things good and happy, every kind of wealth and blessing! Now, in God's name, whip up the horses, but see you drive quietly along the slope!'' he added turning to the coachman.

  Alexandr took his seat in the carriage dissolved in tears, but Yevsay went up to his mistress, knelt down at her feet and kissed her hand. She gave him a five-rouble note.

  " See, Yevsay, remember, be a good servant and I will

  ^ marry you to Agrafena, but if not " She could say no

  more. Yevsay got on to the box. The coachman wearied with the long delay, seemed to revive; he grasped his hat, set it straight on his head and took the reins ; the horses set off at first at a slight trot. He whipped the trace horses in turn one after the other, with a bound they began to draw and the troika flew along the road to the forest. The crowd of escorting friends stood silent and motionless till the carriage had passed altogether out of sight.

  Anton Ivanitch was the first to recover himself.

  " Well, now we must go home," he said.

  Alexandr looked back from the carriage as long as anything was to be seen, then fell with his face hidden in the cushions.

  " Do not leave me in my trouble, Anton Ivanitch," said Anna Pavlovna; " dine here."

  " Very good, ma'am, I am ready; if you like I will sup here too."

  " Yes, and you might stay the night as well."

  " How can that be ? the funeral is to-morrow."

  " Ah yes; well, I must not keep you. Remember me to Fedosia Petrovna; tell her that I grieve from my heart for her affliction, an
d I should have visited her myself, but God has sent, tell her, sorrow upon me—I have just parted with my son."

  " I will tell her, I will tell her, I will not forget."

  " Ah, Sashenka, my darling!" she murmured looking round. "There is nothing to be seen of him, he is gone."

  Madame Adouev sat the whole day silent, and ate no dinner or supper. Anton Ivanitch talked and dined and supped to make up for her.

  "Where is he now, my darling? " was all she could utter from time to time.

  "By now he must be at Nefaeva. No, what am I saying?—he is not yet at Nefaeva, but not far off; there he will drink tea," answered Anton Ivanitch.

  " No, he never takes tea at this time."

  And so Anna Pavlovna in spirit travelled with him. Afterwards, when according to her calculations he must have reached Petersburg, she divided her time between praying, telling fortunes on cards and talking to Maria Karpovna.

  And he ?

  We shall meet him again at Petersburg.

  CHAPTER II

  /iotr Ivanitch Adquev . j>ut frero's uncle, had, like him, w >eeh sent to Petersburg wnen twenty years old by his elder [brother, Alexandr's father, and had lived there uninterruptedly Jbr seventeen years| He had not kept up a correspondence witETiTs relatives after his brother's death, and Anna Pavlovna had seen nothing of him since then, as he had sold his small property not far from her estate.

  In Petersburg he passed for a wealthy man, and perhaps not without good grounds; he had an appointment under a certain influential personage, a secretary of special commissions, and had ribbons to wear in his buttonhole; he had a fine suite of rooms in a good street, kept three men and as many horses. He was not old, but what is called "a man in the prime of life"—between th irty-five an d forty. But he did not care to talk ^Phis age, not from petty vanity, but from a sort of deliberate calculation, as though with an idea of insuring his life on the easiest terms. Any way there was no sign in his manner of concealing his age, of any frivolous pretensions to pleasing the fair sex.

  He was a tall, well-made man, with large regular features and a swarthy complexion, a smooth graceful carriage, and dignified but agreeable manners—one of those men who arejjenerally described by the term bel homme.

  !is face, too, showed dignity—that is, the power of controlling himself and not allowing his face to be the reflection ^gf his feelings. He was of the opinion that this was improper both for his own sake, and for other people's, and behaved himself in public accordingly. Yet one could not call his face wooden; no, it was only tranquil. Sometimes he showed the traces of fatigue—doubtless from overwork. He was known to be both a man of business and a busy man. He always dressed carefully, even stylishly, but only within the limits of good taste ; his linen was unexceptionable; bis hands were plump and white, with long transparent finger-nails.

  - One morning, when he had just waked up and rung his

  bell, his man brought him in three letters together with the

  tea, and informed him further of the arrival of a young

  gentleman, who called himself Alexandr Fedoritch Adouev,

  j and him—Piotr Ivanitch—uncle, and had promised to call

  L-at-JLW£ly_ e _ o'clock. * Piotr Ivanitch listened tranquilly after

  /

  his wont to this piece of news, only pricking up his ears, and raising his eyebrows a little.

  " Good, you can go," he said to the servant.

  Then he took one letter, and was about to break it open,

  when he paused and reflected.

  , -"A nephew from the country—what a surprise!" he

  muttered;."and I had hoped they had forgotten me in

  those regions. Well, why should I trouble myself about

  him ? I will get rid of him."

  He rang again. .' "Tell that gentleman when he comes, that I set off 'directly I was up for my works, and shall be back in three /months."

  " Yes, sir," said the servant, " and what shall I do with the presents ? "

  " With what presents ? "

  " A man brought them: the mistress, he says, sent them as presents from the country."

  " Presents ? "

  " Yes a barrel of honey, a bag of dried raspberries."

  Piotr Ivanitch shrugged his shoulders.

  " And two pieces of linen, and preserves."

  " Very fine linen, I should imagine!"

  " Yes, the linen is fine, and the preserves are of sugar/'

  " Well, you can go, I will see them directly."

  He took one letter, broke it open, and took a comprehensive look at the page. It was written in a large round hand like print, without punctuation,

  Adouev began to read in an undertone.

  " Honoured Sir, —Having been closely acquainted and friendly with your lamented parents, and having amused you not a little in your childhood and ofttimes eaten bread and salt in your house, therefore I cherish a warm feeling and an ardent hope that you have not forgotten the old man Vassili Tihovitch, as we here remember you and your parents with every kindness and we pray God "

  "What a rigmarole? Who is it from?" said Piotr Ivanitch, looking at the signature. "Vassili Zayeshaloff! Zayeshaloff!—I'll be hanged if I remember it. What does he want from me ? "

  And he began reading further.

  " But my most humble petition and importunity to you —do not refuse it< little father—to you in Petersburg, unlike us in these parts, all of course is known and everything is in your reach. There has been fixed upon me a cursed lawsuit, and here's the seventh year come and gone, and I cannot shake it off my neck. Do you remember the little copse which lies one mile from my property ? The court made a mistake in the purchase deeds, and my adversary, Medvyedev, still persists in it; the point, he says, is a got-up one, and this he sticks to through thick and thin. This same Medvyedev is the fellow who always used to be poaching fish from your ponds without permission; your lamented father drove him away and put him to shame, and would have lodged a complaint with the governor for his impudence, but in the kindness of his heart—God rest his soul!—let him off, and he should not have had mercy on such a rogue. Help me, little father, Piotr Ivanitch; the affair is now before the Senate of Appeal, I don't know in what department, or under whom; but to be sure they will

  tell you directly. Go and see the secretary and the senators; incline them in my favour, tell, them it's all a mistake, simply from a mistake in the purchase-deed that I am suffering ; for you they will do everything. While you are there, by the way, kindly trouble to obtain for me a patent of promotion and send it me. Further, little father, Piotr Ivanitch, there is a. little matter of the utmost importance: give your heart-felt sympathy to an innocently oppressed victim, and aid with advice and assistance. We have in the governor's service a councillor, Droshoff, a heart of gold more than a man ; he would die before he would betray a friend; in the town I have no lodging but his house. As soon as I arrive I go straight to him, I live there for weeks, and God forbid you should not make yourself at home; he will overwhelm you with good things to eat and drink, and cards from dinner till the middle of the night. And such a man has been passed over, without promotion, and now they are forcing him to send in his resignation. Go and see, my dear father, all the grandees there, and suggest to them what a man Afanasy Ivanitch is; if there is work to be done it goes like a house on fire in his hands; tell them he has been falsely denounced by an intrigue of the governor's secretary—they will listen to you, and write me by return of post. And go and see my old colleague KostyakofF. I have heard from one of your Petersburgers who has arrived here, Studentsin—no doubt you know him—that he is living at Peska; there the street boys will tell you the house ; write by the same post, don't be lazy, whether he is alive or dead, whether he is in good health, what he is doing, whether he remembers me. Get acquainted and make friends with him—he is a capital fellow —an open heart, and such an amusing fellow. I conclude my letter with a further request "

  Adouev ceased r
eading, slowly tore the letter into four pieces and threw it under the table into a basket, and then stretched and yawned.

  He took the other letter and began to read it also in an undertone.

  " Dearest Brother, Gracious Sir, Piotr Ivanitch."

  . , " What—a sister! " said Adouev, looking at the signature: *" Maria Gorbatov." He looked up at the ceiling, trying to

  recollect something. "How is it?—some recollection— there, that's good—my brother was_ married to a Gorbatov; this is_htf.sistfav,thisj§==a"hl 1 rememberT**' V

  Hefrowned and began to read. >

  " Though fate has severed us, perhaps, for ever, and an ; abyss lies between us; years have rolled by "

  He skipped a few lines and began further on:

  "To the day of my death I shall remember that walk together near our lake, when you, at risk of your life and health, went knee-deep into the water and picked for me some great yellow flowers among the rushes, and how a kind • of juice ran out of the stems and stained our hands and ' you fetched water in your cap for us to wash them; we 1 laughed so much at it then. Ah, how happy I was that day! That flower I have still pressed in a book."

  Adouev stopped. It was clear that this circumstance was . not very gratifying to him; he shook his head rather / suspiciously.

  " But have you still kept the ribbons [he continued reading] that you snatched out of my drawer, in spite of my , entreaties ? "

  " I snatched out a ribbon!" he said aloud, frowning ' angrily. He skipped a few more lines in silence and, read:

  " But I was destined for the unwedded state, and have always been happy in it: there is no one to hinder my recalling those happy days."

  " Ah, the old maid !" thought Piotr Ivanitch. " Isn't it astonishing she should still have yellow flowers in her mind? What more is there ? "

  "Are you married, dearest brother, and to whom ? Who is that dear unknown friend, who smoothes the path of your existence ? tell me her name. I will love her like my own sister, and in my dreams her image will be joined with yours, and I will remember her in my prayers. But if you are not married, now what is the reason—write me frankly; no one will tear your secrets from me, I shall bury them in my bosom, and they shall be torn from me only together with my heart Do not delay; I am burning with eagerness to read your words, so incomprehensible "