首页 >出版文学> Through Russia>第47章

第47章

  IthoughtofastudentofKazanwhomIhadknowninthedaysofthepast,ofayoungfellowfromViatkawho,pale-browed,andsententiousofdiction,mightalmosthavebeenbrothertotheex-
  soldierhimself。AndonceagainIheardhimdeclarethat“beforeallthingsmustIlearnwhetherornotthereexistsaGod;pre-
  eminentlymustImakeabeginningthere。“
  AndIthought,too,ofacertainaccoucheusenamedVelikovawhohadbeenacomely,butreputedlygay,woman。AndIrememberedacertainoccasionwhen,onahilloverlookingtheriverKazanandtheArskiPlain,shehadstoodcontemplatingthemarshesbelow,andthefarbluelineoftheVolga;untilsuddenlyturningpale,shehad,withtearsofjoysparklinginherfineeyes,criedunderherbreath,butsufficientlyloudlyforallpresenttohearher:
  “Ah,friends,howgraciousandhowfairisthislandofours!
  Come,letussalutethatlandforhavingdeemedusworthyofresidencetherein!“
  Whereuponallpresent,includingadeacon-studentfromtheEcclesiasticalSchool,aMorduinefromtheForeignCollege,astudentofveterinaryscience,andtwoofourtutors,haddoneobeisance。AtthesametimeIrecalledthefactthatsubsequentlyoneofthepartyhadgonemad,andcommittedsuicide。
  Again,Irecalledhowonce,onthePianiBor[LiquorWharf]bytheriverKama,atall,sandyyoungfellowwithintelligenteyesandthefaceofane’er-do-wellhadcaughtmyattention。Thedayhadbeenahot,languorousSundayonwhichallthingshadseemedtobeexhibitingtheirbetterside,andtellingthesunthatitwasnotinvainthathewaspouringouthisbrilliantpotency,anddiffusinghislivinggold;whilethemanofwhomIspeakhad,dressedinanewsuitofblueserge,anewcapcockedawry,andapairofbrilliantlypolishedboots,beenstandingattheedgeofthewharf,andgazingatthebrownwatersoftheKama,theemeraldexpansebeyondthemandthesilver-scaledpoolsleftbehindbythetide。Until,asthesunhadbeguntosinktowardsthemarshesontheothersideoftheriver,andtobecomedissolvedintostreaks,themanhadsmiledwithincreasingrapture,andhisfacehadglowedwithcreasingeagernessanddelight;untilfinallyhehadsnatchedthecapfromhishead,flungit,withapowerfulthrowfaroutintotherussetwaters,andshouted:“Kama,Omymother,Iloveyou,andneverwilldesertyou!“
  Andthelast,andalsothebest,recollectionofthingsseenbeforethenightofwhichIspeakwastherecollectionofanoccasionwhen,onelateautumn,IhadbeencrossingtheCaspianSeaonanoldtwo-mastedschoonerladenwithdriedapricots,plums,andpeaches。SailingonheralsoshehadhadsomehundredfishermenfromtheBozhiFactory,menwho,originallyforestpeasantsoftheUpperVolga,hadbeenwell-built,bearded,healthy,goodhumoured,animal-spiritedyoungfellows,youngsterstannedwiththewind,andsaltedwiththeseawater;youngsterswho,afterworkinghardattheirtrade,hadbeenrejoicingattheprospectofreturninghome。Andcareeringaboutthedecklikeyouthfulbearsaseverandanonlofty,sharp-pointedwaveshadseizedandtossedalofttheschooner,andtheyardshadcracked,andthetaut-runrigginghadwhistled,andthesailshadbelliedintoglobes,andthehowlingwindhadshavedoffthewhitecrestsofbillows,andpartiallysubmergedthevesselincloudsoffoam。
  Andseatedonthedeckwithhisbroadbackrestingagainstthemainmasttherehadbeenoneyounggiantinparticular。Cladinawhitelinenshirtandapairofbluesergetrousers,andinnocentalikeofbeardandmoustache,thisyoungfellowhadhadfull,redlips,blue,boyish,andexceedinglytranslucenteyes,andafaceintoxicatedinexcelsiswiththehappinessofyouth;whileleaningacrosshiskneesastheyhadrestedsprawlingoverthedecktherehadbeenayoungfemaletrimmeroffish,awenchasmassiveandtallastheyoungmanhimself,andawenchwhosefacehadbecometannedtoroughnesswiththesunandwind,eyebrowsdark,full,andaslargeasthewingsofaswallow,breastsasfirmasstone,andteatsaroundwhich,astheyprojectedfromthefoldsofaredbodice,therehadlainapatternofblueveins。
  Thebroad,iron-blackpalmoftheyoungfellow’slong,knottedhandhadbeenrestingonthewoman’sleftbreast,withthearmbaretotheelbow;whileinhisrighthand,ashehadsatgazingpensivelyatthewoman’srobustfigure,therehadbeengraspedatinmugfromwhichsomeoftheredliquorhadscatteredstainsoverthefrontofhislinenshirt。
  Meanwhile,aroundthepairtherehadbeenhoveringsomeoftheyoungster’scomrades,who,withcoatsbuttonedtothethroat,andcapsgrippedtopreventtheirbeingblownawaybythewind,hademployedthemselveswithscanningthewoman’sfigurewithenviouseyes,andviewingherfromeitherside。Nay,theshaggygreenwavesthemselveshadbeenstealingoccasionalglimpsesatthepictureascloudshadswirledacrossthesky,gullshadutteredtheirinsatiablescream,andthesun,dancingonthefoam-fleckedwaters,hadvestedthebillows,nowintintsofblue,nowinnaturaltintsasofflamingjewels。
  Inshort,allthepassengersontheschoonerhadbeenshoutingandlaughingandsinging,whilethegreatbeardedpeasantshadalsobeenpayingassiduouscourttoalargeleathernbottlewhichhadlainensconcedonaheapofpeach-sacks,withtheresultthatthescenehadcometohaveaboutitsomethingoftheantique,legendaryairofthereturnofStepanRazinfromhisPersiancampaign。
  Atlengththebuffetingofthewindhadcausedanoldmanwithacrookednosesetonahairy,faun-likefacetostumbleoveroneofthewoman’sfeet;whereuponhehadhalted,thrownuphisheadwithnonsenilevigour,andexclaimed:
  “Maythedevilflyawaywithyou,youshamelesshussy!Whyliesprawlingaboutthedecklikethis?See,too,howexposedyouare!“
  Thewomanhadnotstirredatthewords——shehadnotevenopenedaneye;onlyoverherlipstherehadpassedafainttremor。Whereastheyoungfellowhadstraightenedhimself,depositedhistinmuguponthedeck,andcriedloudlyashelaidhisdisengagedhanduponthewoman’sbreast。
  “Ah,youenvyme,doyou,YakimPetrov?Nevermind,thoughyouhavedonenogreatharm。Butrunnorisks;donotlookforneedlesstrouble,foryourdayforsuckingsugarplumsispast。“
  Whereafter,raisingbothhishands,theyoungfellowhadsoftlyletthemsinkagainuponthewoman’sbosomasheaddedtriumphantly:
  “ThesebreastscouldfeedallRussia!“
  Then,andonlythen,hadthewomansmiledalong,slowsmile。Andasshehaddonesoeverythinginthevicinityhadseemedtosmileinunison,andtoriseandfallinharmonywithherbosom——yes,thewholevessel,andthevessel’sfreight。Andatthemomentwhenaparticularlylargewavehadstruckthebulwarks,andbesprinkledallonboardwithspray,thewomanhadopenedherdarkeyes,lookedkindlyattheoldman,andattheyoungfellow,andatthesceneingeneral——thensetherselftorecoverherbosom。
  “Nay,“theyoungfellowhadcriedasheinterposedtoremoveherhands。“Thereisnoneedforthat,thereisnoneedforthat。
  LetthemALLlook。“
  Suchthememoriesthatcamebacktomyrecollectionthatnight。
  GladlyIwouldhaverecountedthemtomycompanions,but,unfortunately,thesehad,bynow,succumbedtoslumber。Theex-
  soldier,restinginasittingposture,andsnoringloudly,hadhisbackprisedagainsthiswallet,hisheadslopedsideways,andhishandsclaspeduponhisknees,whileVasiliwaslyingonhisbackwithhisfaceturnedupwards,hishandsclaspedbehindhishead,hisdark,finelymouldedbrowsraisedalittle,andhismoustacheerect。Also,hewasweepinginhissleep——tearswerecoursingdownhisbrown,sunburntcheeks;tearswhich,inthemoonlight,hadinthemsomethingofthegreenishtintofachrysoliteorseawater,andwhich,onsuchamanlyface,lookedstrangeindeed!
  Stilltherivuletwaspurlingasitflowed,andthefirecrackling;whilebathedintheredglowoftheflamestherewassitting,bentforward,thedark,stonelikefigureoftheMolokans’watchman,withtheaxeathisfeetreflectingtheradiantgleamofthemoonintheskyaboveus。
  Alltheearthseemedtobesleepingaseverthewaningstarsseemedtodrawnearerandnearer……
  Theslowlengthofthenextdaywasdraggedalongamidaninertiabornofthemoistheat,thesongoftheriver,andtheintoxicatingscentsofforestandflowers。Inshort,onefeltinclinedtodonothing,frommorntillnight,saveroamthedefilewithouttheexchangingofaword,theconceivingofadesire,ortheformulatingofathought。
  Atsunset,whenwewereengagedindrinkingteabythefire,theex-soldierremarked:
  “Ihopethatlifeinthenextworldwillexactlyresemblelifeinthisspot,andbejustasquietandpeacefulandimmunefromwork。Hereoneneedsbuttositandmeltlikebutterandsufferneitherfromwrongnoranxiety。“
  Then,ascarefullyhewithdrewhispipefromhislips,andsighed,headded:
  “Aye!IfIcouldbutfeelsurethatlifeinthenextworldwillbelikelifehere,IwouldpraytoGod:’ForChrist’ssaketakemysoulattheearliestconceivablemoment。’“
  “WhatmightsuitYOUwouldnotsuitME,“Vasilithoughtfullyobserved。“Iwouldnotalwayslivesuchalifeasthis。Imightdosoforatime,butnotinperpetuity。“
  “Ah,butneverhaveyouworkedhard,“gruntedtheex-soldier。
  Ineverywaytheeveningresembledthepreviousone;thereweretobeobservedthesamelusciousfloodingofthedefilewithdove-colouredmist,thesameflashingofthesilvercragsintheroseatetwilight,thesamerockingofthedense,warmforest’ssoft,leafytree-tops,thesamesofteningoftherocks’outlinesinthegloom,thesamegradualupliftofshadows,thesamechantingofthe“matchmaking“river,thesameroutineonthepartofthebig,sleekcarpentersaroundthebarraque——aroutineasslowandponderousinitscourseasthemovementsofadroveofwildboars。
  Morethanonceduringtheoffhoursofthedayhadwesoughttomakethecarpenters’acquaintance,tostartaconversationwiththem,butalwaystheiranswershadbeengivenreluctantly,inmonosyllables,andneverhadadiscussionseemedlikelytogetunderwaywithoutthewhiteheadedforemanshoutingtotheparticularmemberofthegangconcerned:“Hi,you,Pavlushka!