Olgaspokesedately,rhythmically,andshewalkedlikeapilgrimwoman,witharapid,anxiousstep。Everydayshereadthegospel,readitaloudlikeadeacon;agreatdealofitshedidnotunderstand,butthewordsofthegospelmovedhertotears,andwordslike“forasmuchas“and“verily“shepronouncedwithasweetflutteratherheart。ShebelievedinGod,intheHolyMother,intheSaints;shebelievedonemustnotoffendanyoneintheworld——notsimplefolks,norGermans,norgypsies,norJews——andwoeeventothosewhohavenocompassiononthebeasts。
ShebelievedthiswaswrittenintheHolyScriptures;andso,whenshepronouncedphrasesfromHolyWrit,eventhoughshedidnotunderstandthem,herfacegrewsoftened,compassionate,andradiant。
“Whatpartdoyoucomefrom?“Maryaaskedher。
“IamfromVladimir。OnlyIwastakentoMoscowlongago,whenI
waseightyearsold。“
Theyreachedtheriver。Onthefurthersideawomanwasstandingatthewater’sedge,undressing。
“It’sourFyokla,“saidMarya,recognizingher。“Shehasbeenovertherivertothemanoryard。Tothestewards。Sheisashamelesshussyandfoul-mouthed——fearfully!“
Fyokla,youngandvigorousasagirl,withherblackeyebrowsandherloosehair,jumpedoffthebankandbegansplashingthewaterwithherfeet,andwavesraninalldirectionsfromher。
“Shameless——dreadfully!“repeatedMarya。
Theriverwascrossedbyaricketylittlebridgeoflogs,andexactlybelowitintheclear,limpidwaterwasashoalofbroad-headedmullets。Thedewwasglisteningonthegreenbushesthatlookedintothewater。Therewasafeelingofwarmth;itwascomforting!Whatalovelymorning!Andhowlovelylifewouldhavebeeninthisworld,inalllikelihood,ifitwerenotforpoverty,horrible,hopelesspoverty,fromwhichonecanfindnorefuge!Onehadonlytolookroundatthevillagetoremembervividlyallthathadhappenedthedaybefore,andtheillusionofhappinesswhichseemedtosurroundthemvanishedinstantly。
Theyreachedthechurch。Maryastoodattheentrance,anddidnotdaretogofarther。Shedidnotdaretositdowneither。Thoughtheyonlybeganringingformassbetweeneightandnine,sheremainedstandingthewholetime。
Whilethegospelwasbeingreadthecrowdsuddenlypartedtomakewayforthefamilyfromthegreathouse。Twoyounggirlsinwhitefrocksandwide-brimmedhatswalkedin;withthemachubby,rosyboyinasailorsuit。TheirappearancetouchedOlga;shemadeuphermindfromthefirstglancethattheywererefined,well-educated,handsomepeople。Maryalookedatthemfromunderherbrows,sullenly,dejectedly,asthoughtheywerenothumanbeingscomingin,butmonsterswhomightcrushherifshedidnotmakewayforthem。
Andeverytimethedeaconboomedoutsomethinginhisbassvoiceshefanciedsheheard“Ma-arya!“andsheshuddered。
Thearrivalofthevisitorswasalreadyknowninthevillage,anddirectlyaftermassanumberofpeoplegatheredtogetherinthehut。TheLeonytchevsandMatvyeitchevsandtheIlyitchovscametoinquireabouttheirrelationswhowereinserviceinMoscow。AlltheladsofZhukovowhocouldreadandwritewerepackedofftoMoscowandhiredoutasbutlersorwaiterswhilefromthevillageontheothersideoftherivertheboysallbecamebakers,andthathadbeenthecustomfromthedaysofserfdomlongagowhenacertainLukaIvanitch,apeasantfromZhukovo,nowalegendaryfigure,whohadbeenawaiterinoneoftheMoscowclubs,wouldtakenonebuthisfellow-villagersintohisservice,andfoundjobsforthemintavernsandrestaurants;andfromthattimethevillageofZhukovowasalwayscalledamongtheinhabitantsofthesurroundingdistrictsSlaveytown。NikolayhadbeentakentoMoscowwhenhewaseleven,andIvanMakaritch,oneoftheMatvyeitchevs,atthattimeaheadwaiterinthe“Hermitage“garden,hadputhimintoasituation。Andnow,addressingtheMatvyeitchevs,Nikolaysaidemphatically:
“IvanMakaritchwasmybenefactor,andIamboundtoprayforhimdayandnight,asitisowingtohimIhavebecomeagoodman。“
“Mygoodsoul!“atalloldwoman,thesisterofIvanMakaritch,saidtearfully,“andnotawordhaveweheardabouthim,poordear。“
“InthewinterhewasinserviceatOmon’s,andthisseasontherewasarumourhewassomewhereoutoftown,ingardens。Hehasaged!Inolddayshewouldbringhomeasmuchastenroublesadayinthesummer-time,butnowthingsareveryquieteverywhere。Theoldmanfrets。“
ThewomenlookedatNikolay’sfeet,shodinfeltboots,andathispaleface,andsaidmournfully:
“Youarenotonetogeton,NikolayOsipitch;youarenotonetogeton!No,indeed!“
AndtheyallmademuchofSasha。Shewastenyearsold,butshewaslittleandverythin,andmighthavebeentakenfornomorethanseven。Amongtheotherlittlegirls,withtheirsunburntfacesandroughlycroppedhair,dressedinlongfadedsmocks,shewithherwhitelittleface,withherbigdarkeyes,witharedribboninherhair,lookedfunny,asthoughsheweresomelittlewildcreaturethathadbeencaughtandbroughtintothehut。
“Shecanread,too,“Olgasaidinherpraise,lookingtenderlyatherdaughter。“Readalittle,child!“shesaid,takingthegospelfromthecorner。“Youread,andthegoodChristianpeoplewilllisten。“
Thetestamentwasanoldandheavyoneinleatherbinding,withdog’s-earededges,anditexhaledasmellasthoughmonkshadcomeintothehut。Sasharaisedhereyebrowsandbeganinaloudrhythmicchant:
“’AndtheangeloftheLordappeareduntoJoseph,sayinguntohim:Riseup,andtaketheBabeandHismother。’“
“TheBabeandHismother,“Olgarepeated,andflushedalloverwithemotion。
“’AndfleeintoEgypt,andtarrythereuntilsuchtimeas’“
Attheword“tarry“Olgacouldnotrefrainfromtears。Lookingather,Maryabegantowhimper,andafterherIvanMakaritch’ssister。Theoldfatherclearedhisthroat,andbustledabouttofindsomethingtogivehisgrand-daughter,but,findingnothing,gaveitupwithawaveofhishand。Andwhenthereadingwasovertheneighboursdispersedtotheirhomes,feelingtouchedandverymuchpleasedwithOlgaandSasha。
Asitwasaholiday,thefamilyspentthewholedayathome。Theoldwoman,whomherhusband,herdaughters-in-law,hergrandchildrenallalikecalledGranny,triedtodoeverythingherself;sheheatedthestoveandsetthesamovarwithherownhands,evenwaitedatthemiddaymeal,andthencomplainedthatshewaswornoutwithwork。Andallthetimeshewasuneasyforfearsomeoneshouldeatapiecetoomuch,orthatherhusbandanddaughters-in-lawwouldsitidle。Atonetimeshewouldhearthetavern-keeper’sgeesegoingatthebackofthehutstoherkitchen-garden,andshewouldrunoutofthehutwithalongstickandspendhalfanhourscreamingshrillybyhercabbages,whichwereasgauntandscraggyasherself;atanothertimeshefanciedthatacrowhaddesignsonherchickens,andsherushedtoattackitwithloudwordsofabuse。Shewascrossandgrumblingfrommorningtillnight。Andoftensheraisedsuchanoutcrythatpassers-bystoppedinthestreet。
Shewasnotaffectionatetowardstheoldman,revilinghimasalazy-bonesandaplague。Hewasnotaresponsible,reliablepeasant,andperhapsifshehadnotbeencontinuallynaggingathimhewouldnothaveworkedatall,butwouldhavesimplysatonthestoveandtalked。Hetalkedtohissonatgreatlengthaboutcertainenemiesofhis,complainedoftheinsultshesaidhehadtoputupwitheverydayfromtheneighbours,anditwastedioustolistentohim。
“Yes,“hewouldsay,standingwithhisarmsakimbo,“yes。A
weekaftertheExaltationoftheCrossIsoldmyhaywillinglyatthirtykopecksapood。Wellandgood。SoyouseeI
wastakingthehayinthemorningwithagoodwill;Iwasinterferingwithnoone。InanunluckyhourIseethevillageelder,AntipSyedelnikov,comingoutofthetavern。’Whereareyoutakingit,youruffian?’sayshe,andtakesmebytheear。“
Kiryakhadafearfulheadacheafterhisdrinkingbout,andwasashamedtofacehisbrother。
“Whatvodkadoes!Ah,myGod!“hemuttered,shakinghisachinghead。“ForChrist’ssake,forgiveme,brotherandsister;I’mnothappymyself。“
Asitwasaholiday,theyboughtaherringatthetavernandmadeasoupoftheherring’shead。Atmiddaytheyallsatdowntodrinktea,andwentondrinkingitforalongtime,tilltheywereallperspiring;theylookedpositivelyswollenfromthetea-drinking,andafteritbegansippingthebrothfromtheherring’shead,allhelpingthemselvesoutofonebowl。ButtheherringitselfGrannyhadhidden。
Intheeveningapotterbeganfiringpotsontheravine。Inthemeadowbelowthegirlsgotupachoraldanceandsangsongs。Theyplayedtheconcertina。Andontheothersideoftheriverakilnforbakingpotswaslighted,too,andthegirlssangsongs,andinthedistancethesingingsoundedsoftandmusical。Thepeasantswerenoisyinandaboutthetavern。Theyweresingingwithdrunkenvoices,eachonhisownaccount,andswearingatoneanother,sothatOlgacouldonlyshudderandsay:
“Oh,holySaints!“
Shewasamazedthattheabusewasincessant,andthosewhowereloudestandmostpersistentinthisfoullanguageweretheoldmenwhoweresoneartheirend。Andthegirlsandchildrenheardtheswearing,andwerenotintheleastdisturbedbyit,anditwasevidentthattheywereusedtoitfromtheircradles。
Itwaspastmidnight,thekilnsonbothsidesoftheriverwereputout,butinthemeadowbelowandinthetavernthemerrymakingstillwenton。TheoldfatherandKiryak,bothdrunk,walkingarm-in-armandjostlingagainsteachother’sshoulders,wenttothebarnwhereOlgaandMaryawerelying。
“Letheralone,“theoldmanpersuadedhim;“letheralone。
Sheisaharmlesswoman。It’sasin。“
“Ma-arya!“shoutedKiryak。
“Letherbe。It’sasin。Sheisnotabadwoman。“
Bothstoppedbythebarnandwenton。
“Ilo-ovetheflowersofthefi-ield,“theoldmanbegansingingsuddenlyinahigh,piercingtenor。“Ilo-ovetogathertheminthemeadows!“
Thenhespat,andwithafilthyoathwentintothehut。