Knock, Knock, Knock and Other Stories

Home > Other > Knock, Knock, Knock and Other Stories > Page 24
Knock, Knock, Knock and Other Stories Page 24

by Иван Тургенев


  "Scoundrels!" shouted my father, gasping for breath.... "At last we

  have found you out!" And seeing the watch in David's hands: "Give it

  here!" yelled my father, "give me the watch!"

  But David, without uttering a word, dashed to the open window and

  leapt out of it into the yard and then off into the street.

  Accustomed to imitate my paragon in everything, I jumped out, too, and

  ran after David....

  "Catch them! Hold them!" we heard a medley of frantic shouts behind

  us.

  But we were already racing along the street bareheaded, David in

  advance and I a few paces behind him, and behind us the clatter and

  uproar of pursuit.

  XIX

  Many years have passed since the date of these events; I have

  reflected over them more than once--and to this day I can no more

  understand the cause of the fury that took possession of my father

  (who had so lately been so sick of the watch that he had forbidden it

  to be mentioned in his hearing) than I can David's rage at its having

  been stolen by Vassily! One is tempted to imagine that there was some

  mysterious power connected with it. Vassily had not betrayed us as

  David assumed--he was not capable of it: he had been too much

  scared--it was simply that one of our maids had seen the watch in his

  hands and had promptly informed our aunt. The fat was in the fire!

  And so we darted down the street, keeping to the very middle of it.

  The passers-by who met us stopped or stepped aside in amazement. I

  remember a retired major craned out of the window of his flat--and,

  crimson in the face, his bulky person almost overbalancing, hallooed

  furiously. Shouts of "Stop! hold them" still resounded behind us.

  David ran flourishing the watch over his head and from time to time

  leaping into the air; I jumped, too, whenever he did.

  "Where?" I shouted to David, seeing that he was turning into a side

  street--and I turned after him.

  "To the Oka!" he shouted. "To throw it into the water, into the river.

  To the devil!"

  "Stop! stop!" they shouted behind.

  But we were already flying along the side street, already a whiff of

  cool air was meeting us--and the river lay before us, and the steep

  muddy descent to it, and the wooden bridge with a train of waggons

  stretching across it, and a garrison soldier with a pike beside the

  flagstaff; soldiers used to carry pikes in those days. David reached

  the bridge and darted by the soldier who tried to give him a blow on

  the legs with his pike and hit a passing calf. David instantly leaped

  on to the parapet; he uttered a joyful exclamation.... Something

  white, something blue gleamed in the air and shot into the water--it

  was the silver watch with Vassily's blue bead chain flying into the

  water.... But then something incredible happened. After the watch

  David's feet flew upwards--and head foremost, with his hands thrust

  out before him and the lapels of his jacket fluttering, he described

  an arc in the air (as frightened frogs jump on hot days from a high

  bank into a pond) and instantly vanished behind the parapet of the

  bridge ... and then flop! and a tremendous splash below.

  What happened to me I am utterly unable to describe. I was some steps

  from David when he leapt off the parapet ... but I don't even remember

  whether I cried out; I don't think that I was even frightened: I was

  stunned, stupefied. I could not stir hand or foot. People were running

  and hustling round me; some of them seemed to be people I knew. I had

  a sudden glimpse of Trofimitch, the soldier with the pike dashed off

  somewhere, the horses and the waggons passed by quickly, tossing up

  their noses covered with string. Then everything was green before my

  eyes and someone gave me a violent shove on my head and all down my

  back ... I fell fainting.

  I remember that I came to myself afterwards and seeing that no one was

  paying any attention to me went up to the parapet but not on the side

  that David had jumped. It seemed terrible to me to approach it, and as

  I began gazing into the dark blue muddy swollen river, I remember that

  I noticed a boat moored to the bridge not far from the bank, and

  several people in the boat, and one of these, who was drenched all

  over and sparkling in the sun, bending over the edge of the boat was

  pulling something out of the water, something not very big, oblong, a

  dark thing which at first I took to be a portmanteau or a basket; but

  when I looked more intently I saw that the thing was--David. Then in

  violent excitement I shouted at the top of my voice and ran towards

  the boat, pushing my way through the people, but when I had run down

  to it I was overcome with timidity and began looking about me. Among

  the people who were crowding about it I recognised Trankvillitatin,

  the cook Agapit with a boot in his hand, Yushka, Vassily ... the wet

  and shining man held David's body under the arms, drew him out of the

  boat and laid him on his back on the mud of the bank. Both David's

  hands were raised to the level of his face as though he were trying to

  hide himself from strange eyes; he did not stir but lay as though

  standing at attention, with his heels together and his stomach out.

  His face was greenish--his eyes were staring and water was dripping

  from his hair. The wet man who had pulled him out, a factory hand,

  judging by his clothes, began describing how he had done it, shivering

  with cold and continually throwing back his hair from his forehead as

  he talked. He told his story in a very proper and painstaking way.

  "What do I see, friends? This young lad go flying from the bridge....

  Well! ... I ran down at once the way of the current for I knew he had

  fallen into mid-stream and it would carry him under the bridge and

  there ... talk of the devil! ... I looked: something like a fur cap was

  floating and it was his head. Well, quick as thought, I was in the

  water and caught hold of him.... It didn't need much cleverness for

  that!"

  Two or three words of approval were audible in the crowd.

  "You ought to have something to warm you now. Come along and we will

  have a drink," said someone.

  But at this point all at once somebody pushed forward abruptly: it was

  Vassily.

  "What are you doing, good Christians?" he cried, tearfully. "We must

  bring him to by rolling him; it's our young gentleman!"

  "Roll him, roll him," shouted the crowd, which was continually

  growing.

  "Hang him up by the feet! it's the best way!"

  "Lay him with his stomach on the barrel and roll him backwards and

  forwards.... Take him, lads."

  "Don't dare to touch him," put in the soldier with the pike. "He must

  be taken to the police station."

  "Low brute," Trofimitch's bass voice rang out.

  "But he is alive," I shouted at the top of my voice and almost with

  horror. I had put my face near to his. "So that is what the drowned

  look like," I thought, with a sinking heart.... And all at once I saw

  David's lips stir and a little water oozed from them....

  At once I was
pushed back and dragged away; everyone rushed up to him.

  "Roll him, roll him," voices clamoured.

  "No, no, stay," shouted Vassily. "Take him home.... Take him home!"

  "Take him home," Trankvillitatin himself chimed in.

  "We will bring him to. We can see better there," Vassily went on....

  (I have liked him from that day.) "Lads, haven't you a sack? If not we

  must take him by his head and his feet...."

  "Stay! Here's a sack! Lay him on it! Catch hold! Start! That's fine.

  As though he were driving in a chaise."

  A few minutes later David, borne in triumph on the sack, crossed the

  threshold of our house again.

  XX

  He was undressed and put to bed. He began to give signs of life while

  in the street, moaned, moved his hands.... Indoors he came to himself

  completely. But as soon as all anxiety for his life was over and there

  was no reason to worry about him, indignation got the upper hand

  again: everyone shunned him, as though he were a leper.

  "May God chastise him! May God chastise him!" my aunt shrieked, to be

  heard all over the house. "Get rid of him, somehow, Porfiry

  Petrovitch, or he will do some mischief beyond all bearing."

  "Upon my word, he is a viper; he is possessed with a devil,"

  Trankvillitatin chimed in.

  "The wickedness, the wickedness!" cackled my aunt, going close to the

  door of our room so that David might be sure to hear her. "First of

  all he stole the watch and then flung it into the water ... as though

  to say, no one should get it...."

  Everyone, everyone was indignant.

  "David," I asked him as soon as we were left alone, "what did you do

  it for?"

  "So you are after that, too," he answered in a voice that was still

  weak; his lips were blue and he looked as though he were swollen all

  over. "What did I do?"

  "But what did you jump into the water for?"

  "Jump! I lost my balance on the parapet, that was all. If I had known

  how to swim I should have jumped on purpose. I shall certainly learn.

  But the watch now--ah...."

  But at that moment my father walked with a majestic step into our

  room.

  "You, my fine fellow," he said, addressing me, "I shall certainly

  whip, you need have no doubt about that, though you are too big to lie

  on the bench now."

  Then he went up to the bed on which David was lying. "In Siberia," he

  began in an impressive and dignified tone, "in Siberia, sir, in penal

  servitude, in the mines, there are people living and dying who are

  less guilty, less criminal than you. Are you a suicide or simply a

  thief or altogether a fool? Be so kind as to tell me just that!"

  "I am not a suicide and I am not a thief," answered David, "but the

  truth's the truth: there are good men in Siberia, better than you or I

  ... who should know that, if not you?"

  My father gave a subdued gasp, drew back a step, looked intently at

  David, spat on the floor and, slowly crossing himself, walked away.

  "Don't you like that?" David called after him and put his tongue out.

  Then he tried to get up but could not.

  "I must have hurt myself somehow," he said, gasping and frowning. "I

  remember the water dashed me against a post."

  "Did you see Raissa?" he added suddenly.

  "No. I did not.... Stay, stay, stay! Now I remember, wasn't it she

  standing on the bank by the bridge? ... Yes ... yes ... a dark dress...

  a yellow kerchief on her head, yes it must have been Raissa."

  "Well, and afterwards.... Did you see her?"

  "Afterwards ... I don't know, I had no thought to spare for her....

  You jumped in ..."

  David was suddenly roused. "Alyosha, darling, go to her at once, tell

  her I am all right, that there's nothing the matter with me. Tomorrow

  I shall be with them. Go as quickly as you can, brother, for my sake!"

  David held out both hands to me.... His red hair, by now dry, stuck up

  in amusing tufts.... But the softened expression of his face seemed

  the more genuine for that. I took my cap and went out of the house,

  trying to avoid meeting my father and reminding him of his promise.

  XXI

  "Yes, indeed," I reflected as I walked towards the Latkins', "how was

  it that I did not notice Raissa? What became of her? She must have

  seen...."

  And all at once I remembered that the very moment of David's fall, a

  terrible piercing shriek had rung in my ears.

  "Was not that Raissa? But how was it I did not see her afterwards?"

  Before the little house in which Latkin lodged there stretched a

  waste-ground overgrown with nettles and surrounded by a broken hurdle.

  I had scarcely clambered over the hurdle (there was no gate anywhere)

  when the following sight met my eyes: Raissa, with her elbows on her

  knees and her chin propped on her clasped hands, was sitting on the

  lowest step in front of the house; she was looking fixedly straight

  before her; near her stood her little dumb sister with the utmost

  composure brandishing a little whip, while, facing the steps with his

  back to me, old Latkin, in torn and shabby drawers and high felt

  boots, was trotting and prancing up and down, capering and jerking his

  elbows. Hearing my footsteps he suddenly turned round and squatted

  on his heels--then at once, skipping up to me, began speaking

  very rapidly in a trembling voice, incessantly repeating,

  "Tchoo--tchoo--tchoo!" I was dumbfoundered. I had not seen him for a

  long time and should not, of course, have known him if I had met him

  anywhere else. That red, wrinkled, toothless face, those lustreless

  round eyes and touzled grey hair, those jerks and capers, that

  senseless halting speech! What did it mean? What inhuman despair was

  torturing this unhappy creature? What dance of death was this?

  "Tchoo--tchoo," he muttered, wriggling incessantly. "See Vassilyevna

  here came in tchoo--tchoo, just now.... Do you hear? With a trough on

  the roof" (he slapped himself on the head with his hand), "and there

  she sits like a spade, and she is cross-eyed, cross-eyed, like

  Andryushka; Vassilyevna is cross-eyed" (he probably meant to say

  dumb), "tchoo! My Vassilyevna is cross-eyed! They are both on the same

  cork now. You may wonder, good Christians! I have only these two

  little boats! Eh?"

  Latkin was evidently conscious that he was not saying the right thing

  and made terrible efforts to explain to me what was the matter. Raissa

  did not seem to hear what her father was saying and the little sister

  went on lashing the whip.

  "Good-bye, diamond-merchant, good-bye, good-bye," Latkin drawled

  several times in succession, making a low bow, seeming delighted at

  having at last got hold of an intelligible word.

  My head began to go round.

  "What does it all mean?" I asked of an old woman who was looking out

  of the window of the little house.

  "Well, my good gentleman," she answered in a sing-song voice, "they

  say some man--the Lord only knows who--went and drowned himself and

  she saw it. Well, it gave her a fright or something; when she came

  home she seemed all right though;
but when she sat down on the

  step--here, she has been sitting ever since like an image, it's no good

  talking to her. I suppose she has lost her speech, too. Oh, dear! Oh,

  dear!"

 

‹ Prev