the man who was afraid- 第59部分

〃My　song　is　done！　And　nevermore　Shall　I　disturb　their　sleep　of　death；　Oh　Lord；　0h　Lord；　repose　my　soul！　For　it　is　hopeless　in　its　wounds；　Oh　Lord；　repose　my　soul。〃

Foma　shuddered　at　the　sounds　of　their　gloomy　wailing；　and　he　hurried　after　Yozhov；　but　before　he　overtook　him　the　little　feuilleton…writer　uttered　a　hysterical　shriek；　threw　himself　chest　down　upon　the　ground　and　burst　out　sobbing　plaintively　and　softly；　even　as　sickly　children　cry。

〃Nikolay！〃　said　Foma；　lifting　him　by　the　shoulders。　〃Cease　crying；　what's　the　matter？　0h　Lord。　Nikolay！　Enough；　aren't　you　ashamed？〃

But　Yozhov　was　not　ashamed；　he　struggled　on　the　ground；　like　a　fish　just　taken　from　the　water；　and　when　Foma　had　lifted　him　to　his　feet；　he　pressed　close　to　Foma's　breast；　clasping　his　sides　with　his　thin　arms；　and　kept　on　sobbing。

〃Well；　that's　enough！〃　said　Foma；　with　his　teeth　tightly　clenched。　〃Enough；　dear。〃

And　agitated　by　the　suffering　of　the　man　who　was　wounded　by　the　narrowness　of　life；　filled　with　wrath　on　his　account；　he　turned　his　face　toward　the　gloom　where　the　lights　of　the　town　were　glimmering；　and；　in　an　outburst　of　wrathful　grief；　roared　in　a　deep；　loud　voice：

〃A…a…ana…thema！　Be　cursed！　Just　wait。　You；　too；　shall　choke！　Be　cursed！〃

CHAPTER　XI

〃LUBAVKA！〃　said　Mayakin　one　day　when　he　came　home　from　the　Exchange；　〃prepare　yourself　for　this　evening。　I　am　going　to　bring　you　a　bridegroom！　Prepare　a　nice　hearty　little　lunch　for　us。　Put　out　on　the　table　as　much　of　our　old　silverware　as　possible；　also　bring　out　the　fruit…vases；　so　that　he　is　impressed　by　our　table！　Let　him　see　that　each　and　everything　we　have　is　a　rarity！〃

Lubov　was　sitting　by　the　window　darning　her　father's　socks；　and　her　head　was　bent　low　over　her　work。

〃What　is　all　this　for；　papa？〃　she　asked；　dissatisfied　and　offended。

〃Why；　for　sauce；　for　flavour。　And　then；　it's　in　due　order。　For　a　girl　is　not　a　horse；　you　can't　dispose　of　her　without　the　harness。〃

All　aflush　with　offence；　Lubov　tossed　her　head　nervously；　and　flinging　her　work　aside；　cast　a　glance　at　her　father；　and；　taking　up　the　socks　again；　she　bent　her　head　still　lower　over　them。　The　old　man　paced　the　room　to　and　fro；　plucking　at　his　fiery　beard　with　anxiety；　his　eyes　stared　somewhere　into　the　distance；　and　it　was　evident　that　he　was　all　absorbed　in　some　great　complicated　thought。　The　girl　understood　that　he　would　not　listen　to　her　and　would　not　care　to　comprehend　how　degrading　his　words　were　for　her。　Her　romantic　dreams　of　a　husband…friend；　an　educated　man；　who　would　read　with　her　wise　books　and　help　her　to　find　herself　in　her　confused　desires；　these　dreams　were　stifled　by　her　father's　inflexible　resolution　to　marry　her　to　Smolin。　They　had　been　killed　and　had　become　decomposed；　settling　down　as　a　bitter　sediment　in　her　soul。　She　had　been　accustomed　to　looking　upon　herself　as　better　and　higher　than　the　average　girl　of　the　merchant　class；　than　the　empty　and　stupid　girl　who　thinks　of　nothing　but　dresses；　and　who　marries　almost　always　according　to　the　calculation　of　her　parents；　and　but　seldom　in　accordance　with　the　free　will　of　her　heart。　And　now　she　herself　is　about　to　marry　merely　because　it　was　time；　and　also　because　her　father　needed　a　son…in…law　to　succeed　him　in　his　business。　And　her　father　evidently　thought　that　she；　by　herself；　was　hardly　capable　of　attracting　the　attention　of　a　man；　and　therefore　adorned　her　with　silver。　Agitated；　she　worked　nervously；　pricked　her　fingers；　broke　needles；　but　maintained　silence；　being　aware　that　whatever　she　should　say　would　not　reach　her　father's　heart。

And　the　old　man　kept　on　pacing　the　room　to　and　fro；　now　humming　psalms　softly；　now　impressively　instructing　his　daughter　how　to　behave　with　the　bridegroom。　And　then　he　also　counted　something　on　his　fingers；　frowned　and　smiled。

〃Mm！　So！　Try　me；　0h　Lord；　and　judge　me。　From　the　unjust　and　the　false　man；　deliver　me。　Yes！　Put　on　your　mother's　emeralds；　Lubov。〃

〃Enough；　papa！〃　exclaimed　the　girl；　sadly。　〃Pray；　leave　that　alone。〃

〃Don't　you　kick！　Listen　to　what　I'm　telling　you。〃

And　he　was　again　absorbed　in　his　calculations；　snapping　his　green　eyes　and　playing　with　his　fingers　in　front　of　his　face。

〃That　makes　thirty…five　percent。　Mm！　The　fellow's　a　rogue。　Send　down　thy　light　and　thy　truth。〃

〃Papa！〃　exclaimed　Lubov；　mournfully　and　with　fright。

〃What？〃

〃Youare　you　pleased　with　him？〃

〃With　whom？

〃Smolin。〃

〃Smolin？　Yes；　he's　a　rogue；　he's　a　clever　fellow；　a　splendid　merchant！　Well；　I'm　off　now。　So　be　on　your　guard；　arm　yourself。〃

When　Lubov　remained　alone　she　flung　her　work　aside　and　leaned　against　the　back　of　her　chair；　closing　her　eyes　tightly。　Her　hands　firmly　clasped　together　lay　on　her　knees；　and　their　fingers　twitched。　Filled　with　the　bitterness　of　offended　vanity；　she　felt　an　alarming　fear　of　the　future；　and　prayed　in　silence：

〃My　God！　0h　Lord！　If　he　were　only　a　kind　man！　Make　him　kind；　sincere。　0h　Lord！　A　strange　man　comes；　examines　you；　and　takes　you　unto　himself　for　years；　if　you　please　him！　How　disgraceful　that　is；　how　terrible。　0h　Lord；　my　God！　If　I　could　only　run　away！　If　I　only　had　someone　to　advise　me　what　to　do！　Who　is　he？　How　can　I　learn　to　know　him？　I　cannot　do　anything！　And　I　have　thought；　ah；　how　much　I　have　thought！　I　have　read。　To　what　purpose　have　I　read？　Why　should　I　know　that　it　is　possible　to　live　otherwise；　so　as　I　cannot　live？　And　it　may　be　that　were　it　not　for　the　books　my　life　would　be　easier；　simpler。　How　painful　all　this　is！　What　a　wretched；　unfortunate　being　I　am！　Alone。　If　Taras　at　least　were　here。〃

At　the　recollection　of　her　brother　she　felt　still　more　grieved；　still　more　sorry　for　herself。　She　had　written　to　Taras　a　long；　exultant　letter；　in　which　she　had　spoken　of　her　love　for　him；　of　her　hope　in　him；　imploring　her　brother　to　come　as　soon　as　possible　to　see　his　father；　she　had　pictured　to　him　plans　of　arranging　to　live　together；　assuring　Taras　that　their　father　was　extremely　clever　and　understood　everything；　she　told　about　his　loneliness；　had　gone　into　ecstasy　over　his　aptitude　for　life　and　had；　at　the　same　time；　complained　of　his　attitude　toward　her。

For　two　weeks　she　impatiently　expected　a　reply；　and　when　she　had　received　and　read　it　she　burst　out　sobbing　for　joy　and　disenchantment。　The　answer　was　dry　and　short；　in　it　Taras　said　that　within　a　month　he　would　be　on　the　Volga　on　business　and　would　not　fail　to　call　on　his　father；　if　the　old　man　really　had　no　objection　to　it。　The　letter　was　cold；　like　a　block　of　ice；　with　tears　in　her　eyes　she　perused　it　over　and　over　again；　rumpled　it；　creased　it；　but　it　did　not　turn　warmer　on　this　account；　it　only　became　wet。　From　the　sheet　of　stiff　note　paper　which　was　covered　with　writing　in　a　large；　firm　hand；　a　wrinkled　and　suspiciously　frowning　face；　thin　and　angular　like　that　of　her　father；　seemed　to　look　at　her。

On　Yakov　Tarasovich　the　letter　of　his　son　made　a　different　impression。　On　learning　the　contents　of　Taras's　reply　the　old　man　started　and　hastily　turned　to　his　daughter　with　animation　and　with　a　peculiar　smile：

〃Well；　let　me　see　it！　Show　it　to　me！　He…he！　Let's　read　how　wise　men　write。　Where　are　my　spectacles？　Mm！　'Dear　sister！'　Yes。〃

The　old　man　became　silent；　he　read　to　himself　the　message　of　his　son；　put　it　on　the　table；　and；　raising　his　eyebrows；　silently　paced　the　room　to　and　fro；　with　an　expression　of　amazement　on　his　countenance。　Then　he　read　the　letter　once　more；　thoughtfully　tapped　the　table　with　his　fingers　and　spoke：

〃That　letter　isn't　badit　is　sound；　without　any　unnecessary　words。　Well？　Perhaps　the　man　has　really　grown　hardened　in　the　cold。　The　cold　is　severe　there。　Let　him　come；　we'll　take　a　look　at　him。　It's　interesting。　Yes。　In　the　psalm　of　David　concerning　the　mysteries　of　his　son　it　is　said：　'When　Thou　hast　returned　my　enemy'I've　forgotten　how　it　reads　further。　'My　enemy's　weapons　have　weakened　in　the　end；　and　his　memory　hath　perished　amid　noise。　Well；　we'll　talk　it　over　with　him　without　noise。

The　old　man　tried　to　speak　calmly　and　with　a　contemptuous　smile；　but　the　smile　did　not　come；　his　wrinkles　quivered　irritably；　and　his　small　eyes　had　a　particularly　clear　brilliancy。

〃Write　to　him　again；　Lubovka。　'Come　along！'　write　him；　'don't　be　afraid　to　come！'〃

Lubov　wrote　Taras　another　letter；　but　this　time　it　was　shorter　and　more　reserved；　and　now　she　awaited　a　reply　from　day　to　day；　attempting　to　picture　to　herself　what　sort　of　man　he　must　be；　this　mysterious　brother　of　hers。　Before　she　used　to　think　of　him　with　sinking　heart；　with　that　solemn　respect　with　which　believers　think　of　martyrs；　men　of　upright　life；　now　she　feared　him；　for　he　had　acquired　the　right　to　be　judge　over　men　and　life　at　the　price　of　painful　sufferings；　at　the　cost　of　his　youth；　which　was　ruined　in　exile。　On　coming；　he　would　ask　her：

〃You　are　marrying　of　your　own　free　will；　for　love；　are　you　not？〃

What　should　she　tell　him？　Would　he　forgive　her　faint…heartedness？　And　why　does　she　marry？　Can　it　really　be　possible　that　this　is　all　she　can　do　in　order　to　change　her　life？

Gloomy　thoughts　sprang　up　one　after　another　in　the　head　of　the　girl　and　confused　and　tortured　her；　impotent　as　she　was　to　set　up　against　them　some　definite；　all…conquering　desire。　Though　she　was　in　an　anxious　and　　c