A common story

by Ivan Goncharov

  "That's enough, Piotr Ivanitch," said Lizaveta Alexandrovna, " we are sick of hearing of a career."

  " Well, my dear, to have done nothing in se^eji^yjears J "__ ..

  " Good-bye, uncle," said Alexandr. " Tha*nk you for all, for all."

  " No, for nothing. Good-bye, Alexandr ? Don't you want any money for the journey ? " I ^No, thank you, I have some."

  ( " What does it mean ! he never will take any; it really Virritates me at last. Well, good-bye, good-bye."

  "Aren't you sorry to part with him?" murmured Lizaveta Alexandrovna.

  " Hm !" muttered Piotr Ivanitch, " I have grown used to him. Remember, Alexandr, that you have an uncle and a friend—do you hear ? and if you need a post, or something to do, or vile dross, come straight to me ; you will always find them all."

  " And if you want sympathy," said Lizaveta Alexandrovna, " comfort in trouble, warm trusting affection "

  " And sincere outpourings," added Piotr Ivanitch.

  " Then remember," Lizaveta Alexandrovna went on, " that you have an aunt and a friend."

  " Come, my dear, that he will not need in the country; they are all there : flowers, and love, and outpourings, and even an aunt."

  Alexandr was much affected; he could not say a word. At parting from his uncle he was offering to embrace him, but not quite so confidently as seven years before. Piotr Ivanitch did not embrace him, but only took him by both hands and shook them more heartily than seven years ago. Lizaveta Alexandrovna was shedding tears.

  " Ah! there's a burden off me, thank God !" said Piotr Ivanitch, when Alexandr had gone; " I feel as if my back felt easier!"

  " What did he do to you ? " his wife articulated through her tears.

  " Why, it was simply misery; worse than the factory hands. If they play the fool, you can give them the whip ; but what was one to do with him ? "

  His aunt wept the whole day, and when Piotr Ivanitch asked for his dinner, he was told that nothing had been prepared, that the mistress had shut herself up in her room and given the cook no directions.

  " And all Alexandr!" said Piotr Ivanitch; " what a worry he is!"

  He walked up and down and then went off to dine at the English Club.

  CHAPTER XII

  It was a lovely morning. The lake the reader knows already in the village of Grahae was just stirred by a faint ripple. The eyes involuntarily winked in the dazzling brilliance of the sunshine which flashed in sparkles of diamond and emerald on the water. Weeping birch-trees bathed their branches in the lake, and in parts of its banks were growing rushes, among which were nestling great yellow flowers reposing on broad floating leaves. Light clouds sometimes passed before the sun; suddenly it seemed to have turned its back on Grahse; then the lake and the forest and the village—all were instantly in shadow; there was a patch of sunshine only in the distance. The cloud passed—the lake was sparkling again, and the cornfields seemed covered with gold.

  Anna Pavlovna had been sitting since five o'clock in the balcony. What had brought her out: the sunrise, the fresh breeze, or the lark's song ? No, she never took her eyes off the road which passed through the forest. Agrafena came up to ask for the keys. Anna Pavlovna did not glance at her, and not taking her eyes from the road gave her the keys without even asking her what for. The cook appeared; without a glance at him either, she gave him a multitude of directions. Once more the table was to be spread with a banquet.

  Anna Pavlovna was left again alone. Suddenly her eyes brightened; every energy of her soul and body were strained to look; something dark appeared upon the road. Some one was coming, but slowly, deliberately. Ah ! it was a waggon coming down from the mountain. Anna Parlovna frowned.

  " Some evil spirit sent him ! " she said; " they might go round, all rush up here."

  She sank back again disappointed into her easy-chair, and again with trembling expectation bent her gaze upon the forest, without noticing anything around her. But there was something to notice around her; the scene began to change significantly. The air, hot with the burning sun of midday, grew heavy and stifling. Then the sun was hidden. It grew dark. And the forest, and the distant

  villages, and the grass all began to assume a uniform and threatening hue.

  Anna Pavlovna revived and looked up. Good Heavens ! From the west was creeping, like a living monster, a shapeless blur of blackness, with a copper glow upon its edges, and as quickly swooping down upon the village and the forest, stretching like two huge wings on both sides. Everything in nature seemed in dismay. The cows hung their heads; the horses lashed their tails and snorted with distended nostrils, shaking their manes: the dust under their hoofs did not fly up, but was parted like sand under the wheels. The clouds grew heavy with storm. Soon there v- was the slow roll of thunder in the distance.

  Everything was hushed, as though expecting something unprecedented. What had become of the birds that had been fluttering and singing so merrily in the sunshine ? Where were the insects who had been buzzing in the grass ? All were hidden and voiceless, and inanimate objects seemed to share the foreboding of evil. The trees ceased rustling, and, intertwining their twigs together, they drew themselves up; only sometimes they bowed their tops down as though warning one another in a whisper of approaching danger. The thunderclouds had overspread the horizon and formed a kind of impenetrable leaden vault overhead. In the village every one was trying to reach home in time. There was an instant of universal solemn silence. Then, like a forerunner from the forest, came a fresh breeze blowing cool in the wayfarer's face; it rustled in the leaves, slammed the door of a hut as it passed, and ruffling up the dust of the street sank away in the bushes. After it rushed a whirling blast slowly raising a cloud of dust on the road; then it burst into the village, tore some rotten boards from the fence, carried off a thatch roof, and fluttered the petticoats of a peasant woman who was fetching water, and drove the cocks and hens along the street ruffling their feathers.

  The squall rushed by. Again a hush. Everything was uneasy and seeking shelter; only a silly sheep saw nothing coming; he went on indifferently chewing cud, standing in the middle of the street gazing in one direction and not comprehending the general agitation ; and a straw from the thatch whirling along the road was doing its utmost to keep up with the rushing wind.

  Two or three great drops of rain fell, and suddenly came a flash of lightning. An old man got up from the boundary mound of earth and hurriedly called some little grandchildren into the hut; an old woman crossing herself hastily shut a window.

  The peals of thunder overpowering every sound of humanity rolled in triumphant sovereignty in the heavens, A horse broke away from its cord in terror, and dashed into the meadow ; a peasant tried in vain to catch it. And the rain at first fell in scattered drops, then pelted faster and faster and lashed more and more violently on the roofs and windows. A small white hand was thrust out on to the balcony for some flowers, the subjects of the tenderest solicitude.

  At the first outbreak of the storm Anna Pavlovna crossed herself and left the balcony.

  " No, it's clearly useless now to expect him to-day," she said with a sigh," he will put up somewhere to avoid the storm, and perhaps for the night."

  Suddenly there was a sound of wheels only not from the forest but from the other direction. Someone had come into the court. Madame Adouev's heart stood still.

  " What is that ? " she thought, " could he have planned to arrive unexpectedly ? But no, there is no road that way."

  She did not know what to think; but soon everything was explained. A minute later Anton Ivanitch came in. His hair was somewhat grizzled, he himself had grown stouter; his cheeks were fat from indolence and good-living. He wore the same surtout, the same loose pantaloons.

  " I've been expecting and expecting you, Anton Ivanitch," began Anna Pavlovna. " I thought you were not coming. I had begun to despair of you."

  " It's very wrong of you to think such a thing! with any one else, ma'am, I daresay! You can't iiecoy me to see every on
e, but with you it's another thing ! I was delayed not through my own fault; I have just driven here with only one horse."

  " How was that ? " asked Anna Pavlovna absently, as she moved towards the window.

  " Because, ma'am, at the christening at Pavl Savitch's my little piebald fell lame; some evil spirit induced the

  coachman to lay an old door from the barn over the old ditch ; they're poor folk, you see! They hadn't any new planks! And on the door there was some hook or something sticking out; so the horse stumbled and fell over the side, and I was within an ace of having my neck broken—such a shock! So from that time he's gone lame. They are such stingy creatures, to be sure. You wouldn't believe, ma'am, what their house is like; it would be better to keep people in some almshouse. And yet every winter at Moscow they will waste their thousand roubles."

  Anna Pavlovna listened absent-mindedly to him, and gave a slight shake of the head as he concluded.

  "You know I have received a letter from Sashenka, Anton Ivanitch!" she interposed, "he writes he will be here about the 20th; so I am hardly knowing what I am doing for joy."

  "I have heard of it, ma'am; Proshka told me, but I didn't understand what he was saying at first; I imagined he had arrived already; threw it me into a perspiration with joy!»

  " God bless you, Anton Ivanitch, for loving us so."

  " Could any one love you more ? Why, I have dandled Alexandr Fedoritch in my arms; he is just like one of my own kin."

  . " Thank you, Anton Ivanitch; God reward you for it! /And the last two nights I hardly slept, and did not let the servants sleep either; the idea of his arriving, and all of us asleep—that would be a pretty thing ! Yesterday and the day before I walked as far as the forest, and I should have gone to-day, but the burden of old age is too much for me. I have been worn out by a sleepless night. Sit down, Anton Ivanitch. Why you've got quite wet; won't you like a little breakfast and something to drink ? Dinner '11 very likely be late; we shall be waiting for the arrival of our dear one."

  " Well, then, just a snack! though I must own I have had some breakfast already."

  " Where did you have time for that ? "

  " I stopped half way at Maria Karpovna's. I was passing that way, you know, and stopped, more for the mare than for myself; I gave her a little breathing space. It's no joking matter to trot twelve miles in this heat! While I

  was there I just had a morsel of breakfast. It's as well I didn't listen to them; I would not stop in spite of their trying to keep me; if I had, the storm would have detained me there all day."

  " Well, and how is Maria Karpovna getting on ? "

  " Very well, thank God; she sent her greetings to you."

  " I thank you kindly; and her daughter Sophia Vassi-lievna, and her husband; what news of them ? "

  " No news, ma'am; the sixth baby will soon be on its way now. They expect it in a fortnight. They asked me to be with them about that time. But there's a poverty in their house it's painful to see. One would fancy they shouldn't think of any more children. But there—there's no end to it! "

  " You don't say so !"

  u Yes, indeed! in their rooms everything's topsy-turvy ; the windows are dropping out; the rain comes through the roof. And they haven't the means to repair things, and cheesecakes and mutton is what they put before you—that's all you'll get! And yet how pressing they are in asking one!"

  " And she tried to catch my Sashenka, a draggle-tail like that!"

  " Fancy her, ma'am, trying to net such an eagle! I can't contain my impatience to see him; what a handsome fellow, I declare! I've a notion of my own, Anna Pavlovna; how if he's got engaged, proposed to some princess or countess up there, and is coming now to ask your blessing and invite you to the wedding ? "

  " How you talk, Anton Ivanitch! " said Anna Pavlovna, beside herself with delight.

  " I warrant you!"

  " Ah ! my dear friend, God bless you ! There! it had gone right out of my head; I meant to tell you and had forgotten it; I keep thinking and thinking what it was and had it on the tip of my tongue; so you see I was afraid it had gone altogether. But won't you have some breakfast first, or shall I tell you now ? "

  " It's just the same to me, ma'am, even if you tell me during breakfast time; I won't miss a morsel of it—a word of it, I mean ? "

  " Well, then," began Anna Pavlovna, when the breakfast

  had been brought in and Anton Ivanitch had taken his seat

  at the table, " I saw "

  " But why don't you take a little yourself? " said Anton Ivanitch.

  " Oh, do you suppose I can eat now ? I can't swallow a morsel; I haven't even drunk a cup of tea for ever so long. Well, I dreamt in my sleep that I was sitting like this, and facing me Agrafena was standing with the tray. And I thought I said to her, ' Why is your tray empty, pray,' said I, ' Agrafena ?' but she did not answer but kept looking at the door. ' My gracious !' I think to myself in my dream, ' why does she keep her eyes fixed on it ?' So I began to look. I look, and suddenly Sashenka comes in so mournful looking, and he came up to me and said, quite clearly as if it were not in a dream, * Good-bye, mamma,' said he ;' I am going that way,' and he pointed to the lake; ' and I shall not come back again,' he said. ' Where are you going, my dearie ?' I asked, but my heart seemed breaking. He did not answer, but looked so strangely and pitifully at me. 'But where have you come from, darling?' I thought I asked him again. And he heaved a deep sigh and pointed again to the lake. 'From the abyss,' he murmured, scarcely audibly, 'from the water-spirits.' I shivered all over and woke up. My pillow was all wet with tears; and I could not come to my waking senses; I sat up in bed, and wept streams of tears. Directly I was up, I had a lamp lighted before our Holy Mother of Kazan; may She, who mercifully intercedes for us, protect him from every trouble and sorrow. It's put me in such a state of perplexity; my Goodness, I can't make out what this ought to mean. Something must have happened to him, do you think ? Now a storm like this "

  " That's a good thing, ma'am, weeping in one's sleep; it's a good omen !" said Anton, breaking an egg on to his plate. " He will be here to-morrow without fail."

  " I was thinking whether we couldn't go after breakfast as far as the forest to meet him; we could drag ourselves up somehow, but see how muddy it has become all at once!"

  " No, he will not be here to-day; I have had a forewarning !"

  At that instant the sound of a troika bell in the distance

  was borne upon the wind and suddenly sank away. Anna Pavlovna held her breath.

  " Ah !" she said, relaxing her throat with a sigh, " and I fancied "

  Suddenly it came again.

  " My God ! is it not a troika ? " she said, and rushed on to the balcony.

  "No," answered Anton Ivanitch, "it's the colt grazing near with a bell on its neck; I saw it on the road. I scared it just now, or it would have strayed into the rye. Why don't you have it hobbled ? "

  Suddenly the bell tinkled as though it were just under the balcony and kept ringing louder and louder.

  " Ah, my goodness ! so it is; here, here he comes. It is he, he !" cried Anna Pavlovna. " Oh, oh ! Run, Anton Ivanitch ! Where are the servants ? Where is Agrafena ? No one . . . . just as if he were arriving at a strange house ; my goodness !"

  She was quite beside herself. And the bell was ringing now as if it were in the room.

  Anton Ivanitch jumped up from the table. " It's he! it's he!" screamed Anton Ivanitch, " there is Yevsay on the box ! Where is the image, the bread and salt ? Give them me quick ! What am I to carry to him to the steps? How can I without bread and salt ? It's such a bad omen. What want of arrangement among you ! No one thought of it! But why are you standing still yourself, Anna Pavlovna ; why don't you go to meet him ? Make haste !"

  " I cannot," she answered with difficulty, " my knees are too weak."

  And with these words she sank into a chair. Anton Ivanitch snatched from the table a hunch of bread, laid it on a plate, laid a salt-sellar by it, and was rushing to the do
or.

  " Nothing ready ! " he muttered angrily.

  But he was met in the doorway by three men and two maid-servants rushing in.

  " He is coming ! he is coming ! he is here !" they shrieked, pale and scared as though brigands had just arrived.

  Immediately behind them appeared Alexandr himself. "Sashenka! my dearest one!" cried Anna Pavlovna, and suddenly she stopped and looked in bewilderment at Alexandr.

  Q

  " But where is Sashenka ? " she asked.

  " Why, this is me, mamma," he said, kissing her hand.

  " You ? "

  She took a long look at him.

  " You, really you, my darling ? " she said, folding him to her. Then suddenly again she looked at him.

  "But what's the matter with you? Are you ill?" she asked uneasily, not letting him go out of her arms.

  " I am quite well, mamma."

  " Quite well! What has happened to you, my dearie ? Were you like this when I let you go ? "

  She pressed him to her heart and began to weep bitterly. She kissed him on the brow, the eyes, the cheeks.

  " Where are your curls ? how silky they were !" she said, through her tears. " Your eyes used to sparkle like two stars; your cheeks were pink and white; you were just like a clear bright-skinned apple. It seems as if some evil people have bewitched you through envy of your beauty and my happiness ! But what was your uncle thinking of? I put you into his hands, as a sensible man ! Couldn't he guard my treasure ? My dearest!"

  The old lady was weeping and overwhelming Alexandr with caresses.

  " So tears in a dream are not a good omen !" thought Anton Ivanitch.

  " Why are you lamenting over him, ma'am, just as if he were dead ? " he whispered; " it's a pity ! It's a bad omen."

  " How do you do, Alexandr Fedoritch ? " he said; " God has permitted me to see you again in this world."

  Alexandr gave him his hand without speaking./Anton Ivanitch went out to see whether everything had been taken out of the trap, then began to summon the household to come and salute their master. But all were already crowding into the hall and passages. He arranged them all in order and gave each instructions how he was to make his salutations; which was to kiss the master's hand, which his shoulder, which only the hem of his coat, and what to say while doing so. One lad he rejected altogether, telling him, "you go first and wash your face and wipe your nose."