Knock, Knock, Knock and Other Stories

by Иван Тургенев

  me charming and worthy of the most devoted love.

  XV

  David's father still did not come and did not even send a letter. It

  had long been summer and June was drawing to its end. We were wearing

  ourselves out in suspense.

  Meanwhile there began to be rumours that Latkin had suddenly become

  much worse, and that his family were likely to die of hunger or

  else the house would fall in and crush them all under the roof.

  David's face even looked changed and he became so ill-tempered and

  surly that there was no going near him. He began to be more often

  absent from home, too. I did not meet Raissa at all. From time to

  time, I caught a glimpse of her in the distance, rapidly crossing the

  street with her beautiful, light step, straight as an arrow, with her

  arms crossed, with her dark, clever eyes under her long brows, with an

  anxious expression on her pale, sweet face--that was all. My aunt with

  the help of her Trankvillitatin pitched into me as before, and as

  before reproachfully whispered in my ear: "You are a thief, sir, a

  thief!" But I took no notice of her; and my father was very busy, and

  occupied with his writing and driving all over the place and did not

  want to hear anything.

  One day, passing by the familiar apple-tree, more from habit than

  anything I cast a furtive glance in the direction of the little spot I

  knew so well, and it suddenly struck me that there was a change in the

  surface of the soil that concealed our treasure ... as though there

  were a little protuberance where there had been a hollow, and the bits

  of rubbish were disarranged. "What does that mean?" I wondered. "Can

  someone have guessed our secret and dug up the watch?"

  I had to make certain with my own eyes. I felt, of course, the most

  complete indifference in regard to the watch that lay rusting in the

  bosom of the earth; but was not prepared to let anyone else make use

  of it! And so next day I got up before dawn again and arming myself

  with a knife went into the orchard, sought out the marked spot under

  the apple-tree, began digging--and after digging a hole a yard deep

  was forced to the conviction that the watch was gone, that someone had

  got hold of it, taken it away, stolen it!

  But who could have dug it up except David?

  Who else knew where it was?

  I filled in the hole and went back to the house. I felt deeply

  injured.

  "Supposing," I thought, "that David needs the watch to save his future

  wife or her father from dying of starvation.... Say what you like, the

  watch was worth something.... Why did he not come to me and say:

  'Brother' (in David's place I should have certainly begun by saying

  brother), 'brother, I need money; you have none, I know, but let me

  make use of that watch which we buried together under the old

  apple-tree? It is of no use to anyone and I shall be so grateful to

  you, brother!' With what joy I should have consented. But to act

  secretly, treacherously, not to trust his friend.... No! No passion, no

  necessity would justify that!"

  I repeat, I felt horribly injured. I began by a display of coldness

  and sulking....

  But David was not one of the sort to notice this and be upset by it.

  I began dropping hints.

  But David appeared not to understand my hints in the least!

  I said before him how base in my eyes was the man who having a friend

  and understanding all that was meant by that sacred sentiment

  "friendship," was yet so devoid of generosity as to have recourse to

  deception; as though it were possible to conceal anything.

  As I uttered these last words I laughed scornfully.

  But David did not turn a hair. At last I asked him straight out: "What

  did he think, had our watch gone for some time after being buried in

  the earth or had it stopped at once?"

  He answered me: "The devil only knows! What a thing to wonder about!"

  I did not know what to think! David evidently had something on his

  mind ... but not the abduction of the watch. An unexpected incident

  showed me his innocence.

  XVI

  One day I came home by a side lane which I usually avoided as the

  house in which my enemy Trankvillitatin lodged was in it; but on this

  occasion Fate itself led me that way. Passing the open window of an

  eating-house, I suddenly heard the voice of our servant, Vassily, a

  young man of free and easy manners, "a lazy fellow and a scamp," as my

  father called him, but also a great conqueror of female hearts which

  he charmed by his wit, his dancing and his playing on the tambourine.

  "And what do you suppose they've been up to?" said Vassily, whom I

  could not see but heard distinctly; he was, most likely, sitting close

  by, near the window with a companion over the steaming tea--and as

  often happens with people in a closed room, spoke in a loud voice

  without suspecting that anyone passing in the street could hear every

  word: "They buried it in the ground!"

  "Nonsense!" muttered another voice.

  "I tell you they did, our young gentlemen are extraordinary!

  Especially that Davidka, he's a regular Aesop! I got up at daybreak

  and went to the window.... I looked out and, what do you think! Our

  two little dears were coming along the orchard bringing that same

  watch and they dug a hole under the apple-tree and there they buried

  it, as though it had been a baby! And they smoothed the earth over

  afterwards, upon my soul they did, the young rakes!"

  "Ah! plague take them," Vassily's companion commented. "Too well off,

  I suppose. Well, did you dig up the watch?"

  "To be sure I did. I have got it now. Only it won't do to show it for

  a time. There's been no end of a fuss over it. Davidka stole it that

  very night from under our old lady's back."

  "Oh--oh!"

  "I tell you, he did. He's a desperate fellow. So it won't do to show

  it. But when the officers come down I shall sell it or stake it at

  cards."

  I didn't stay to hear more: I rushed headlong home and straight to

  David.

  "Brother!" I began, "brother, forgive me! I have wronged you! I

  suspected you! I blamed you! You see how agitated I am! Forgive me!"

  "What's the matter with you?" asked David. "Explain!"

  "I suspected that you had dug up our watch under the apple-tree."

  "The watch again! Why, isn't it there?"

  "It's not there; I thought you had taken it, to help your friends. And

  it was all Vassily."

  I repeated to David all that I had overheard under the window of the

  eating-house.

  But how to describe my amazement! I had, of course, expected David to

  be indignant, but I had not for a moment anticipated the effect it

  produced on him! I had hardly finished my story when he flew into an

  indescribable fury! David, who had always taken up a scornful attitude

  to the whole "vulgar," as he called it, business of the watch; David,

  who had more than once declared that it wasn't worth a rotten egg,

  jumped up from his seat, got hot all over, ground his teeth and

  clenched his fists. "We can't let this pass!"
he said at last; "how

  dare he take someone else's property? Wait a bit, I'll show him. I

  won't let thieves off so easily!"

  I confess I don't understand to this day what can have so infuriated

  David. Whether he had been irritated before and Vassily's action had

  simply poured oil on the flames, or whether my suspicions had wounded

  him, I cannot say, but I had never seen him in such excitement. I

  stood before him with my mouth open merely wondering how it was that

  his breathing was so hard and laboured.

  "What do you intend to do?" I asked at last.

  "You shall see after dinner, when your father lies down. I'll find

  this scoffer, I'll talk to him."

  "Well," thought I, "I should not care to be in that scoffer's shoes!

  What will happen? Merciful heavens?"

  XVII.

  This is what did happen:

  As soon as that drowsy, stifling stillness prevailed, which to this

  day lies like a feather bed on the Russian household and the Russian

  people in the middle of the day after dinner is eaten, David went to

  the servants' rooms (I followed on his heels with a sinking heart) and

  called Vassily out. The latter was at first unwilling to come, but

  ended by obeying and following us into the garden.

  David stood close in front of him. Vassily was a whole head taller.

  "Vassily Terentyev," my comrade began in a firm voice, "six weeks ago

  you took from under this very apple-tree the watch we hid there. You

  had no right to do so; it does not belong to you. Give it back at

  once!"

  Vassily was taken aback, but at once recovered himself.

  "What watch? What are you talking about? God bless you! I have no

  watch!"

  "I know what I am saying and don't tell lies. You've got the watch,

  give it back."

  "I've not got your watch."

  "Then how was it that in the eating-house, you..." I began, but David

  stopped me.

  "Vassily Terentyev!" he pronounced in a hollow, threatening voice, "we

  know for a fact that you have the watch. You are told honourably to

  give it back and if you don't..."

  Vassily sniggered insolently.

  "Then what will you do with me then? Eh?"

  "What will we do? We will both fight with you till you beat us or we

  beat you."

  Vassily laughed.

  "Fight? That's not for a gentleman! To fight with a servant!"

  David suddenly caught hold of Vassily's waistcoat.

  "But we are not going to fight you with our fists," he articulated,

  grinding his teeth. "Understand that! I'll give you a knife and take

  one myself.... And then we shall see who does for which? Alexey!" he

  began commanding me, "run for my big knife, you know the one with the

  bone handle--it's lying on the table and the other's in my pocket."

  Vassily positively collapsed. David stood holding him by the

  waistcoat.

  "Mercy on us! ... Mercy on us, David Yegoritch!" he muttered; tears

  actually came into his eyes. "What do you mean, what are you saying?

  Let me go."

  "I won't let you go. And we shall have no mercy on you! If you get

  away from us today, we shall begin again to-morrow. Alyoshka, where's

  the knife?"

  "David Yegoritch," wailed Vassily, "don't commit murder.... What are

  you doing! The watch ... I certainly ... I was joking. I'll give it to

  you this minute. What a thing, to be sure! First you are going to slit

  Hrisanf Lukitch's belly, then mine. Let me go, David Yegoritch....

  Kindly take the watch. Only don't tell your papa."

  David let go his hold of Vassily's waistcoat. I looked into his face:

  certainly not only Vassily might have been frightened by it. It looked

  so weary ... and cold ... and angry....

  Vassily dashed into the house and promptly returned with the watch in

  his hand. He gave it to David without a word and only on going back

  into the house exclaimed aloud in the doorway:

  "Tfoo! here's a go."

  He still looked panic-stricken. David tossed his head and walked into

  our room. Again I followed on his heels. "A Suvorov! He's a regular

  Suvorov!" I thought to myself. In those days, in 1801, Suvorov was

  our great national hero.

  XVIII

  David shut the door after him, put the watch on the table, folded his

  arms and--oh, wonder!--laughed. Looking at him I laughed, too.

  "What a wonderful performance!" he began. "We can't get rid of this

  watch anyway. It's bewitched, really. And why was I so furious about

  it?"

  "Yes, why?" I repeated. "You ought to have let Vassily keep it...."

  "Well, no," interposed David. "That's nonsense. But what are we to do

  with it?"

  "Yes! what?"

  We both stared at the watch and pondered. Adorned with a chain of pale

  blue beads (the luckless Vassily in his haste had not removed this

  chain which belonged to him) it was calmly doing its work: ticking

  somewhat irregularly, it is true, and slowly moving its copper minute

  hand.

  "Shall we bury it again? Or put it in the stove," I suggested at last.

  "Or, I tell you what: shouldn't we take it to Latkin?"

  "No," answered David. "That's not the thing. I know what: they have

  set up a committee at the governor's office and are collecting

  subscriptions for the benefit of the people of Kasimov. The town has

  been burnt to ashes with all its churches. And I am told they take

  anything, not only bread and money, but all sorts of things. Shall we

  send the watch there?"

  "Yes! yes!" I answered. "A splendid idea. But I thought that since

  your friends are in want...."

  "No, no; to the committee; the Latkins will manage without it. To the

  committee."

  "Well, if it is to be the committee, let it be. Only, I imagine, we

  must write something to the governor."

  David glanced at me. "Do you think so?"

  "Yes, of course; there is no need to write much. But just a few

  words."

  "For instance?"

  "For instance ... begin like this: 'Being' ... or better: 'Moved

  by' ..."

  "'Moved by' ... very good."

  "Then we must say: 'herewith our mite' ..."

  "'Mite' ... that's good, too. Well, take your pen, sit down and write,

  fire away!"

  "First I must make a rough copy," I observed.

  "All right, a rough copy, only write, write.... And meanwhile I will

  clean it with some whitening."

  I took a sheet of paper, mended a pen, but before I had time to write

  at the top of the sheet "To His Excellency, the illustrious Prince"

  (our governer was at that time Prince X), I stopped, struck by the

  extraordinary uproar ... which had suddenly arisen in the house. David

  noticed the hubbub, too, and he, too, stopped, holding the watch in

  his left hand and a rag with whitening in his right. We looked at each

  other. What was that shrill cry. It was my aunt shrieking ... and

  that? It was my father's voice, hoarse with anger. "The watch! the

  watch!" bawled someone, surely Trankvillitatin. We heard the thud of

  feet, the creak of the floor, a regular rabble running ... moving

  straight upon us. I was
numb with terror and David was as white as

  chalk, but he looked proud as an eagle. "Vassily, the scoundrel, has

  betrayed us," he whispered through his teeth. The door was flung wide

  open, and my father in his dressing gown and without his cravat, my

  aunt in her dressing jacket, Trankvillitatin, Vassily, Yushka, another

  boy, and the cook, Agapit--all burst into the room.