A common story

by Ivan Goncharov

  He clutched her by the hand violently.

  "Maman, maman! here!" shrieked Nadinka in a piercing voice, tearing herself away from Alexandr, and directly she was free making headlong towards the house.

  He sat on the bench clutching his head in his hands.

  She ran into the room pale and scared, and dropped into a chair.

  " What is it ? What's the matter with you ? Why did you shriek ? " her mother asked in alarm, as she went to meet her.

  " Alexandr Fedoritch—is unwell!" she could only just articulate.

  "And what frightened you so ? "

  '• He is so dreadful, maman ; for God's sake, don't let him come near me."

  " How you frightened me, you mad thing. Well, what if he is unwell? I know his chest is bad. What is there dreadful in it? it isn't consumption! let him rub it with opodeldoc—it will soon pass off; it's evident he didn't obey me, he did not rub it."

  Alexandr recovered himself. The delirium passed, but his tortures were redoubled. He had not cleared up his doubts, but had terrified Nadinka, and he certainly would not obtain an answer from her now; this was not the way to set to work. The thought came to him as it does to every lover : " How if she is not guilty ? it may be in reality she is indifferent to the Count ? Her thoughtless mother invites him every day; what is she to do ? He, as a man of the world, is attentive, Nadinka is a pretty girl; perhaps even he wishes to please her, but still it does not follow that he has succeeded in pleasing her. She perhaps is pleased with the flowers, the rides on horseback, and innocent recreation, but not with the Count himself ? And even let us admit that there is some coquetry in it; is not this pardonable? Other and older girls—God knows what they do."

  He drew a breath, a ray of happiness shone in his soul. Lovers are all like this; now very blind, now too sharp-sighted. Besides, it is so sweet to defend the beloved object.

  " But why the change in her behaviour to me ?" he suddenly asked himself and grew pale again. " Why does she avoid me, and why is she silent, as though she were ashamed ? Why was it yesterday, an ordinary day, she was dressed so smartly ? There were no guests, except him. Why did she ask if the ballets would soon be beginning ? " It was a simple question; but he remembered that the Count had airily promised to get her a box, however difficult it might be; consequently he would be with them. Why had sh« gone out of the garden ? why had she not come into the garden ? why had she asked this ? why had she not asked that ? "

  And again he fell into grievous doubts and again suffered bitterly, and came to the conclusion that Nadinka had really never loved him at all.

  "My God! my God!" he said is despair,
  In a quarter of an hour he came into the room, downcast and apprehensive.

  " Good-bye, Nadyezhda Alexandrovna," he said timidly.

  11 Good-bye," she said shortly, not raising her eyes.

  " When may I come again ? "

  " When you please. However, we go to town this week; we will let you know thea"

  He went away. More than a fortnight passed. Everyone had by then come to town. Aristocratic drawing-rooms began to be lighted up. And the petty official lighted two lamps on the wall in his drawing-room, bought two stones of wax-candles and set out two card-tables, in expectation of Stepan Ivanitch and Ivan Stepanitch, and announced to his wife that they would be at home on Tuesdays.

  But all this time Adouev did not receive an invitation to the Lubetzkys. He met their cook and their maid-servant: the maid, directly she saw him, began hurrying away; it was clear that she acted in the spirit of her mistress. The cook stopped.

  " Why is it, sir, you have forgotten us ? " he said, " and it's ten days already since we've been back."

  " But perhaps you are not settled yet—you don't receive ? "

  " How not receive, sir ; every one has been to see us already, except you; the mistress is always wondering about it. Now his grace is good enough to visit us every day. Such a kind-hearted gentleman! I went the other day with a copy-book from our young lady to him—he gave me a banknote."

  " You idiot!" said Adouev, and turned on his heel away from the gossip. He went in the evening past the Lubetzkys. It was lighted up. A carriage was at the door.

  ? " he asked. Count Novinsk y* The next day ana the next it was the same thing. At last, one day he went in. The mother received him cordially, with reproaches for his absence, scolded him for not having rubbed his chest with opodeldoc; Nadinka—calmly, the Count—courteously. Conversation did not make much progress.

  This happened twice. In vain he looked expressively at Nadinka; she did not seem to observe his looks, and how she had observed them of old ! Sometimes, when he was talking to her mother, she used to stand facing him and make faces at him from behind Maria Mihalovna, play tricks and make him laugh.

  He was a prey to intolerable wretchedness. He thought of nothing but how to force himself from the bondage he had entered upon so light-heartedly. He wanted to obtain an explanation. " Whatever the answer was," he thought, "it would not matter, so long as doubt were changed into certainty."

  He was a long while deliberating how to attack the matter; at last he made a plan of some sort and went to the Lubetzkys.

  Everything was in his favour. That carriage was not at the door. He went quietly into the drawing-room and stopped a minute at the door of the inner room to take breath. Nadinka was there playing on the piano. At the further end of the room Madame Lubetzky was sitting on a sofa and knitting at her shawl. Nadinka, hearing steps in the outer room, went on playing more softly and stretched her head forward. She waited with a smile for the guest to appear. The guest made his appearance and instantly the smile vanished, and a look of dismay took its place. Her face changed a little and she rose from her seat. This was not the guest she was expecting.

  Alexandr bowed without speaking and moved on like a shadow towards her mother. He walked softly without his old self-confidence, with hanging head. Nadinka sat down and went on playing, looking round restlessly now and then.

  In half an hour the mother was summoned from the room on some matter or other. Alexandr went up to Nadinka. She rose and tried to escape.

  " Nadyezhda Alexandrovna !" he said mournfully, " stay a little, spare'me five minutes—no more."

  " I cannot listen to you," she said, moving away; " the

  last time you were "

  " I was to blame then. Now I will speak in a very different way; you shall not hear a syllable of reproach, I give you my word. An explanation is inevitable: you

  know you gave me permission to ask your mother for your hand. Since that so much has happened—that—that I must repeat my request. Sit down and go on playing; your mother will hear less then; it's not the first time, you know "

  She obeyed mechanically; with heightened colour she began to touch a chord and bent her eyes upon him in a tremour of expectation.

  "Where have you gone, Alexandr Fedoritch?" asked mother, returning to her place.

  " I wanted to have a little talk with Nadyezhda Alexan-drovna—about—literature," he answered.

  " Well, do by all means; indeed, it's a long time since you have had a talk together."

  "Answer me briefly and sincerely, one question only," he began in an undertone, "and our explanation will be over directly. You no longer love me ? "

  " Quelle idee 1 " she answered in confusion; you know how maman and I have always valued your friendship— how glad we always have been to see you."

  Adouev looked at her and thought il Are you that capricious but sincere child ? that freakish, frolicsome creature ? How quickly she has learnt to dissemble! how soon the feminine instincts have awakened in her ! Can it be that her sweet caprices were the germs of dissimulation and hypocrisy ? .... to think, even without my uncle's method, how quickly this girl has been trained into a woman ! and all the Count's training, and all in some two or three months! Oh, uncle, uncle ! here again you are only
too right."

  11 Listen," he said in such a voice, that the mask of dissimulation dropped off, " let us leave mamma out of the question : be for an instant the Nadinka of old days when you loved me a little, and answer me straight out; I must know, by God, I must."

  She did not speak, but changing the music before her, began mechanically to look at it and play a difficult passage.

  " Very well, I will alter my question," continued Adouev ; " tell me, has not some one—I do not even ask who—but simply has not some one supplanted me in your heart ?"

  She snuffed the candle and was a long while setting the wick straight, but she did not speak.

  "Answer, Nadyezhda Alexandrovna; one word will release me from torture and you—from an unpleasant explanation."

  " Ah, for God's sake, leave off! What am I to say to you ? I have nothing to say !" she answered, turning away from him.

  Another man would have been satisfied with such a reply, and would have seen that there was no need to trouble himself further. He would have understood everything from the unspoken anguish written on her face and expressed in her gestures. But Adouev was not content He was like an executioner torturing his victim, and was himself animated by a kind of wild despairing desire to drink the cup once for all and to the dregs.

  " No !" he said, " let us put an end to this torture to-day; doubts, one blacker than another, are distracting my mind and tearing my heart to pieces. I have suffered agony; I believe my heart will break with the strain .... I cannot feel convinced of my suspicions; you must resolve it all yourself, or I shall never be at rest."

  He looked at her and waited for an answer. She did not speak.

  " Have pity on me !" he began again—" look at me; am I like myself? every one is frightened of me, no one recognises me—every one pities me—except you."

  It was true; his eyes glowed with a strange fire. He was thin, and white; the perspiration stood in large drops onliis bWw:

  She looked stealthily at him and there was something like sympathy in her eyes. She even took his hand, but let it fall directly with a sigh, and still she did not speak.

  " Well ?" he asked.

  " Ah ! leave me in peace !" she said in a tone of anguish, "you torture me with your questions."

  " I beseech you, for God's sake!" he said, " make an end of all with one word. Of what use is concealment to you ? I cannot get rid of a foolish hope, I will not

  leave off, I will come to you every day, pale, distracted

  I shall bring you misery. Forbid me the house, I will linger under your windows, will meet you at the theatre, in the street, everywhere, like a ghost. All this is foolish, laughable very likely—to any one who can laugh—but it is

  agonizing to me! You don't know what passion is—what it leads to! God grant you may never find out! . . . . What is the good of it ? wouldn't it be better to speak at once ? "

  "But what are you asking me about?" said Nadinka, throwing herself back in her chair. " I am utterly bewildered—my head is in a fog."

  She pressed her hand spasmodically to her forehead and withdrew it again at once.

  " I ask you—has some one taken my place in your heart ? one word—yes or no—will decide everything; will it take long to say it ? "

  She tried to say something but could not, and dropping her eyes struck a note with one finger. One could see that there was a violent struggle going on within her. " Ah !" she groaned at last in anguish. Adouev wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.

  "Yes or no?" he repeated, holding his breath.

  Some seconds passed.

  " Yes or no ? "

  " Yes!" whispered Nadinka, hardly audibly, then bent over the piano, and, as though unconsciously, began to strike some loud chords.

  This yes was a scarcely perceptible sound, like a sign, but it stunned Adouev; his heart seemed torn, his limbs shook beneath him. He dropped into a chair near the piano and said nothing.

  Nadinka looked at him in alarm. He gazed senselessly at her.

  "Alexandr Fedoritch!" shrieked her mother suddenly from her room, "which of your ears is tingling?"

  He did not answer.

  " Maman is asking you a question," said Nadinka.

  " Eh ? "

  " Which of your ears is tingling ? " cried the mother— " quick 1 »

  " Both! " Adouev uttered gloomily.

  u Your'e wrong—it should be the left! And I have been foretelling the future, and whether the Count will be here to-day."

  " The Count!" ejaculated Adouev.

  "Forgive me!" said Nadinka, in a voice of entreaty,

  turning towards him. "I don't understand myself—-this has all happened without my foreseeing it ... . against my will .... I don't know how .... I could not deceive you."

  "I will keep my word, Nadyezhda Alexandrovna," he replied, " I will not utter a single reproach to you. Thank you for your sincerity .... you have done much .... much —to-day .... it was hard for me to hear that ' yes,' but it was still harder for you to say it ... . Farewell; you will not see me again; it's the only return I can make for your honesty .... but the Count, the Count! "

  He ground his teeth and walked to the door.

  " Ah," he said, turning back, " what will this bring you to ? The Count will not marry you; what are his intentions ? "

  " I don't know!" answered Nadinka, shaking her head mournfully.

  " My God! how blind you are!" cried Alexandr with horror.

  " He can have no bad intentions," she replied in a weak voice.

  u Take care of yourself, Nadyezhda Alexandrovna 1"

  He took her hand, kissed it, and with uneven steps went from the room. It was dreadful to look at him. Nadinka remained motionless in her place.

  ^ Why are you not playing, Nadinka?" asked her mother in a few minutes.

  " Directly, maman 1 " she replied, and with her head bent pensively on one side, began uncertainly to touch the keys. Her fingers weretrembling. She was evidently suffering from th&"prfeks o? conscience and from the doubt flung at her in the words " Take care of yourself." When the Count arrived, she was silent and depressed; and there was some constraint in her manner. On the pretext of a headache she went early to her room. And that night life seemed a sorrowful thing to her.

  Adouev had scarcely got down the staircase when his strength failed him, he sat down on the last step, covered his eyes with his handkerchief and broke into loud tearless sobs. The hall-porter was passing near the vestibule afrthe time. He stood still and listened.

  " Marfa, Marfa !" he called, going up to the dirty door,

  "come here, listen, how some one is groaning like an animal. I thought it might be our dog escaped from her chain, but no, it's not."

  " No,it's not the dog!" repeated Marfa listening. "What a strange thing!"

  " Come and bring a lantern; it hangs there behind the stove."

  Marfa brought the lantern.

  " Is he still groaning ? " she asked.

  " Yes! could some tramp have got in ? "

  " Who is there ? " asked the porter.

  No answer.

  " Who is there ? " repeated Marfa.

  Still the same sound. They both went off quickly. Adouev rushed away.

  " Ah, it was some gentlemen," said Marfa, looking after him, " and you thought it was a tramp ! There, it's just what was on the tip of my tongue to say! Would a tramp be groaning in other people's passages ? "

  " Weil, he must have been drunk then."

  " That's better still! " answered Marfa; " do you suppose every one's like vou? it's not every one groans like you when he's drunk ? "

  " Then why was it—from hunger or what ? " remarked the porter with vexation.

  " Why 1" said Marfa looking at him and not knowing what to say, "how can one tell, he had lost something, perhaps—money."

  They both squatted down at once and began to search with the lantern on the ground in every corner.

  " Lost something!" repeated the porter, as he turned the l
ight on the ground, "where could he lose anything here? the staircase is clean and made of stone, you could see a needle here—lost something indeed! We should have heard if he had lost anything; it would have tinkled on the ground; of course he would have picked it up ! where could one lose anything here ? There is nowhere ! Lost something ! He didn't lose anything ; was he likely to have lost something? lose anything—I daresay! no; he'd be more likely, you depend upon it, to find a way of putting things in his pocket instead of losing them! I know them, the pickpockets! lost indeed ! where did he lose it?"

  And they spent a long time crawling on the ground, looking for the lost money.

  " No, no," said the porter at last with a sigh, then he put out the light, and pinching the wick with two fingers wiped them on his coat

  CHAPTER VI.

  That evening at twelve o'clock, when Piotr Ivanitch, with a candle and book in one hand, while he held his dressing-gown off the ground with the other, went from his study into his bedroom to go to bed, his valet informed him that Alexandr Fedoritch wished to see him.

  Piotr Ivanitch knitted his brows, thought a minute, and then said calmly: " Take him into the study; I will come at once/'

  Returning there, he greeted his nephew with " Good evening, Alexandr, it's a long time since we have seen you. We have given up expecting you by day, and here all at once you burst on us at night! Why so late ? But what's wrong with you ? you are quite pale."

  Without answering a. iVoi'cT, Alexandr sat down in an armchair in extreme exhaustion. Piotr Ivanitch looked at him with curiosity.

  Alexandr sighed.

  " Are you well ? " asked Piotr Ivanitch, anxiously.

  " Yes," replied Alexandr in a feeble voice, " I move, I eat, I drink, and therefore I am well."