‘I’m speaking to you as your father, as your gentle, loving mother … you’re alienating everyone from yourself and forgetting that it is the gentle calf that has two mothers to suckle it.’

  ‘That’s true too, Foma!’

  ‘You’re a bore, you’re a trespasser upon the hearts of men of goodwill, you’re so selfishly eager to draw attention to yourself that any decent person would run to the ends of the earth to escape from you!’

  Uncle again heaved a deep sigh.

  ‘Why not be more gentle, loving and understanding towards your fellow-men? Forget yourself, remember others and you too perhaps will not be forgotten. Live and let live, that is my motto! Patience, toil, prayer and hope are the precepts I should like to instil into every human heart! If you lived up to them, I should be the first to open my heart to you, weep bitter tears on your shoulder … if necessary … Instead you’re so full of yourself, you, yourself and your Reverence! In the end your Reverence can be altogether too much, Colonel, if I may put it that way!’

  ‘What sweet words!’ Gavrila said humbly.

  ‘That’s true, Foma, I appreciate it all,’ Uncle agreed, overcome by emotion. ‘But I’m not to blame for everything, Foma; it’s my upbringing; I’ve lived amongst soldiers. And I swear to you, Foma, I haven’t been insensitive. When I left my regiment, all the hussars, the whole battalion was simply in tears. They swore they’d not find anyone else like me …! I thought then that perhaps there was hope for me.’

  ‘There’s the egoist in you again! There’s your vanity again! First you glorify yourself, and then in passing I get your hussars’ tears rammed down my throat. Oh well, I shan’t brag of anybody’s tears. Though well I could, though well I could.’

  ‘That was just a slip of the tongue, Foma, I couldn’t resist recalling the good old times.’

  ‘They’re not to be snatched out of the blue, the good old times — we make them ourselves, they’re locked in our hearts, Yegor Ilyich. Why is it I am always happy, always content, in spite of all my anguish; calm in spirit and a burden to no one except fools, upstarts, men of learning, for whom I neither have nor wish to have any pity at all. I can’t abide fools! And what of these learned men, what of this “man of science”! His science is pure bluff, nothing else! What was it he said? Get him here! Bring all the scientists here! I can explode everything; I’ll explode every theory they can put up! And as for the nobility of the soul …’

  ‘Of course, Foma, of course. Nobody doubts it!’

  ‘For instance, a while ago I revealed wit, talent and deep reading. I proved my knowledge of humanity, of contemporary literature, I gave a brilliant exhibition of how a talented person may turn even the komarinsky into a topic for lofty debate. And may I ask, did any one of the company appreciate me according to my deserts? No, everybody turned away! I’m sure he’s already told you that I know nothing. For all he knew, it might have been Machiavelli or Mercadante sitting before him — my only fault is that I happen to be poor and obscure … No, they shan’t get away with that! … And then there’s this Korovkin. What sort of goose is he?’

  ‘Foma, he’s a clever man, a man of learning … I’m expecting him. He’ll turn out a good man, Foma!’

  ‘Hm! I doubt it. Some modern ass laden with books. They’ve no soul, these people, Colonel, no heart! And what good is learning without virtue?’

  ‘No, Foma, no! You should have heard him speak of family happiness! It was straight from the heart, Foma!’

  ‘Hm! We’ll see. We’ll examine Korovkin too … But enough,’ Foma concluded, rising from his chair. ‘I still can’t forgive you completely, Colonel; the offence was too deep, you know, but I shall say a prayer and perhaps God will vouchsafe peace to an injured heart. We’ll speak again about this tomorrow, but now allow me to go. I feel tired and weak …’

  ‘Oh, Foma!’ Uncle began to fuss, ‘You really are tired! Why not have a little something? I’ll have it brought up in a moment.’

  ‘A little something! A little something!’ Foma replied with derision. ‘First they give you poison to drink, and then they ask if you want a little something! They expect to heal wounds of the heart with stewed mushrooms and preserved apples! What a pitiable materialist you are, Colonel!’

  ‘Oh, Foma, I really meant no harm …’

  ‘Well, all right. Enough. I will go now. However, you must go at once to your mother: go down on your knees, cry, sob, but you’ve got to obtain her forgiveness — that’s your duty now, your obligation!’

  ‘Oh, Foma, that’s what I think about all the time; even now, talking to you. I would be ready to kneel before her till dawn. But think, Foma, what it is I’m being expected to do. It’s unfair, it’s cruel, Foma! Be generous to the last, think of my happiness, reconsider, make your decision, and then … then … I swear …!’

  ‘No, Yegor Ilyich, no, that’s none of my business,’ replied Foma Fomich. ‘You know I don’t want to interfere at all; that is to say, you may be convinced I’m to blame for everything, but I assure you, I’ve had nothing to do with this affair from the very start. Your dear mamma alone has willed it so, and, of course, she has nothing but your interests at heart … Go then, hurry, fly to her and try to mend matters by pledging your obedience! Let not the sun go down upon your wrath! I … I shall be praying for you all through the night. I have quite forgotten what sleep is, Yegor Ilyich. Farewell! … I pardon you too, old man,’ he added, turning to Gavrila. ‘I know that the blame rests with others for what you did. So forgive me any offence I may have caused you … Farewell, farewell, farewell all, and may the Good Lord bless you …!’

  Foma Fomich departed. I immediately rushed into the room.

  ‘You were eavesdropping!’ Uncle exclaimed.

  ‘Yes, Uncle, eavesdropping! How could you bring yourself to call him “Your Excellency”!’

  ‘What could I do, my boy? I’m proud of it … that was nothing when so much is at stake; but what a noble, selfless, remarkable man! Sergey — you heard him, didn’t you? … And how I dared offer him that money is simply beyond me! My boy! I got carried away! I was in a rage; I didn’t understand him; I suspected him, accused him … but no! he could never have been my enemy — I can see it now … You remember how dignified he looked when he turned down the money?’

  ‘Very well, Uncle, be as proud as you wish, but I’m going: I’ve had enough! For the last time: what is it you want of me? Why have you called me here and what is it you’re after? If everything is over and I’m no longer of any use, I’m leaving. I’m sick of these charades! I’m leaving today.’

  ‘My dear boy …’ Uncle began to fuss as usual, ‘stay for two more minutes: I’m going to see Mamma … I’ve got to settle something vitally important, an affair of great moment! … Why don’t you go to your room? Gavrila will take you to the summer wing. You know the summer wing? It’s actually in the garden. I’ve had your bags taken there already. As for me, I’ll go back to her and implore her forgiveness — I know exactly how to go about it — and then I’ll be back immediately and tell you everything, everything, everything, in the minutest detail, I’ll lay my soul open to you … And … and … there’ll be better times for us too! Two minutes, just two more minutes, Sergey!’

  He shook my hand and hurried out. There was nothing for it but to follow Gavrila again.

  10

  Mizinchikov

  The part of the house where Gavrila conducted me was called ‘the new wing’ merely as a matter of usage; in fact, it had been built by the previous owner a long time before. It was a pretty timber building standing close to the old house and within the bounds of the garden itself; it was surrounded on three sides by tall lime trees whose branches touched the roof. Its four rather well furnished rooms were kept ready for guests. On entering the room which had been prepared for me and where my suitcase had already been brought, I noticed on a little bedside table a sheet of notepaper covered in beautiful writing in different styles, full of flourishes and twirls. Ornate capitals and borders were worked over in various colours. The whole formed a most pretty exercise in calligraphy. From the first words I read I recognized the document as a pleading letter addressed to me, in which I was referred to as ‘the enlightened benefactor’. It was headed: Vidoplyasov’s Laments. I continued to read it, but despite all my efforts I could not make head or tail of the contents; it seemed to be the most inflated nonsense, couched in the high-flown phraseology peculiar to flunkeys. All I could surmise was that Vidoplyasov, finding himself in a dire predicament, entertained high hopes of my ability to help him in view of my education, and was anxious to secure my cooperation in interceding for him with Uncle, who was to be prevailed upon with the aid of ‘my machine’, as he literally put it at the end of this missive. I was still absorbed in reading when the door opened and Mizinchikov entered.

  ‘I hope you’ll permit me to make your acquaintance,’ he said, extending his hand in a relaxed but most cordial manner. ‘I didn’t have an opportunity to say a word to you before, but I felt from the start I’d like to get to know you better.’

  I immediately replied that I was delighted and so on and so forth, although in fact I had seldom been in such an unsociable mood. We both sat down.

  ‘What’s that?’ he said, looking at the sheet of paper which I was still holding in my hand. ‘It’s not Vidoplyasov’s Laments? Just as I thought! I was sure he wouldn’t leave you in peace. He gave me a sheet just like that, with just the same laments; he knew you were coming and he must have got one ready in advance. Don’t be surprised: there’s no end of weird things going on here, there’s always something to laugh at.’

  ‘To laugh at — is that all?’

  ‘Well, you don’t expect me to cry, do you? If you like, I can tell you Vidoplyasov’s life-story, you’ll be thoroughly amused, I’m sure.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I can’t be bothered with Vidoplyasov now,’ I replied with vexation.

  It was clear that Mr Mizinchikov’s pleasant chatter and interest in me were pursued with an ulterior motive and that he was after something from me. In the drawing-room he had been sullen and pensive, whereas now he was cheerful, smiling and ready to tell lengthy stories. He was clearly a cool, self-possessed person with an insight into human nature.

  ‘Confounded Foma!’ I said, angrily bringing down my fist upon the table. ‘I’m sure he’s the cause of all the mischief here and mixed up in everything! The brute!’

  ‘Aren’t you being rather hard on him?’ Mizinchikov ventured.

  ‘Rather hard!’ I shouted, my temper suddenly rising. ‘Certainly I got carried away and gave anyone a right to criticize me. I know I went and thoroughly disgraced myself on all counts, but I don’t think there’s any need to remind me of it! … Of course, that’s not the way to behave in polite society; but just think, how could I have kept cool? This is a real madhouse, if you want my opinion … and … and I’ll simply pack up and leave — I will!’

  ‘You smoke?’ Mizinchikov asked calmly.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then you won’t mind if I do. They won’t let me smoke over there and frankly it’s a bore. I agree,’ he continued, lighting up a cigarette, ‘it is a bit like a madhouse, but far be it from me to criticize you because in your shoes I’d have probably lost my temper far sooner.’

  ‘And why didn’t you, if you really were so upset? On the contrary, I recall you were completely unconcerned, and I must say it’s a shame you didn’t speak up for poor Uncle who’s always ready to do good to others … to everyone without exception!’

  ‘You’re right: he’s helped a lot of people; but I still think it would have been quite useless to have stood up for him: first, it wouldn’t have done him the least bit of good, it might even have hurt his dignity; and secondly, I would have been kicked out of the house the very next day. I’ll be frank with you: my personal circumstances are such that I daren’t take risks with the hospitality of this house.’

  ‘I’ve no wish to be drawn into your confidence on the subject of your circumstances … But, seeing that you’ve been living in this house for over a month, I’d be interested to ask …’

  ‘Why of course, I’m at your service,’ Mizinchikov replied eagerly, drawing his chair closer.

  ‘For instance, how do you explain the fact that Foma had his hands on fifteen thousand rubles in silver and turned them down? I saw it with my own eyes.’

  ‘Is that so? Well, I never!’ Mizinchikov exclaimed. ‘Do tell me what happened!’

  I told him without revealing the ‘Your Excellency’ episode. Mizinchikov listened with rapt interest, his countenance undergoing a change when I reached the fifteen thousand rubles.

  ‘Brilliant!’ he said when I had finished. ‘I never thought Foma would be capable of that.’

  ‘All the same, to turn down a sum of money like that! How do you explain it? Could it really be nobility of soul?’

  ‘He turned down fifteen so as to go for thirty later. On second thoughts,’ he added after short deliberation, ‘I very much doubt if Foma had any definite plan. He is a most impractical person, an artist you could say, in his way. Fifteen thousand … hm! You see: he’d have gladly accepted the money, but he couldn’t resist the temptation to impress, to strike a pose. I tell you, the fellow’s such a lily-livered, snivelling old woman — and so puffed with pride as well!’

  Mizinchikov could not conceal his vexation. It was clear he was thoroughly annoyed, perhaps even jealous. I studied him with great curiosity.

  ‘Hm! There are great changes in the air,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘Yegor Ilyich now worships Foma. Out of the goodness of his heart he may even consent to marry.’ Mizinchikov clenched his teeth.

  ‘So you think that idiotic, abnormal marriage with that demented half-wit of a woman will take place after all?’ Mizinchikov looked hard at me.

  ‘The scoundrels!’ I burst out.

  ‘As a matter of fact their reasoning is quite sound: they insist it’s about time he did something for the family.’

  ‘As if he hadn’t done enough!’ I cried indignantly. ‘How can you, how can you call marriage to a vulgar fool “sound reasoning”!’

  ‘Of course, I do agree, she is a fool … Hm! I’m glad you’re so fond of your uncle; I have every sympathy for him myself … her money wouldn’t come amiss on the estate, though. Still, they’ve other reasons too; they’re afraid Yegor Ilyich might marry that governess … you know that quite interesting girl?’

  ‘Surely not … surely that’s impossible!’ I exclaimed in extreme agitation. ‘I expect it’s just idle rumour. Tell me more, for goodness’ sake, I’m dying to know …’

  ‘Oh, he’s head over heels in love! But of course, he’s trying to keep it secret.’

  ‘Trying to keep it secret! You’re sure of that? And what about her? Is she in love with him?’

  ‘It’s quite possible that she is. After all, she’s got everything to gain by marrying him: she’s very poor.’

  ‘But what evidence have you for assuming that they’re in love?’

  ‘You can’t help noticing it. They’re seeing each other on the quiet, I believe. Some people say they’re having improper relations. But please — not a word to anyone. This is strictly between ourselves.’

  ‘This is preposterous!’ I exclaimed. ‘And you, you even admit that you believe it?’

  ‘Of course I don’t believe all of it. I wasn’t present. On the other hand, it may well be true.’

  ‘May well be true? Don’t you consider Uncle’s dignity, his honour!’

  ‘Naturally; but people do get carried away, and then finish off with legal marriage. This is not uncommon. However, I repeat, I’m not insisting upon the absolute truth of these stories, especially as the girl herself has been much maligned in this house: they’ve even said that she had an affair with Vidoplyasov.’

  ‘There you are!’ I exclaimed. ‘With Vidoplyasov! Can that be true? Isn’t the very thought enough to make you squirm? Don’t tell me you believe that too?’

  ‘As I said, I’ve no strong reasons for believing,’ Mizinchikov replied coolly. ‘On the other hand, it could well have happened. Lots of things happen in this world. I wasn’t there, and besides, I don’t think it’s any of my business. However, seeing as you are so concerned, I feel bound to admit that the suggestion of an affair with Vidoplyasov does seem rather far-fetched. Anna Nilovna’s behind it all, you know, Perepelitsyna; it was she who spread the rumour, from sheer jealousy, because she once had designs on Yegor Ilyich herself — honestly! — she reckoned she had a claim on him just because her father was a Lieutenant-Colonel. Now she’s been disappointed, and she’s absolutely furious. Well, I think I’ve told you everything — and let me tell you, I hate gossip, it’s such a waste of precious time. You see, I’ve come to ask you a small favour.’

  ‘A favour? I’d be pleased! Any way in which I can be of service to you …’

  ‘I understand, and indeed perhaps I might even be able to persuade you to take an interest in this affair, because I see you are fond of your uncle and seem very concerned about his fate as regards this marriage. But before I go any further I have another preliminary favour to ask.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Well, it’s like this: you may or you may not agree to my main request, but, whatever happens, before I ask you, I’d humbly beg you to give me your word as an honourable gentleman and a man of principle, that what you are about to hear will remain the most closely guarded secret between us, and that under no circumstances whatsoever will you reveal it to anyone, nor will you seek to make personal use of the idea which I must now disclose to you. Do you agree or not?’

  It was a very solemn preamble. I gave my consent.

  ‘Well, sir?’ I said.

  ‘It’s a very simple matter indeed,’ Mizinchikov began. ‘You see, I want to abduct Tatyana Ivanovna and marry her; like Gretna Green, you understand.’

  I looked Mizinchikov straight in the eyes and for a while remained totally speechless.