Resurrection by Leo Nikoleyevich Tolstoy (i love reading .TXT) đ
- Author: Leo Nikoleyevich Tolstoy
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âWhat is it, sir? That we are drinking? Ah, no one sees how we
work, but every one sees how we drink. I have earned it, and I am
drinking and treating my wife, and no one else.â
âYes, yes,â said Nekhludoff, not knowing what to say.
âTrue, sir. My wife is a steady woman. I am satisfied with my
wife, because she can feel for me. Is it right what Iâm saying,
Mavra?â
âThere you are, take it, I donât want any more,â said the wife,
returning the bottle to him. âAnd what are you jawing for like
that?â she added.
âThere now! Sheâs goodâthat good; and suddenly sheâll begin
squeaking like a wheel thatâs not greased. Mavra, is it right
what Iâm saying?â
Mavra laughed and moved her hand with a tipsy gesture.
âOh, my, heâs at it again.â
âThere now, sheâs that goodâthat good; but let her get her tail
over the reins, and you canât think what sheâll be up to⊠.
Is it right what Iâm saying? You must excuse me, sir, Iâve had a
drop! Whatâs to be done?â said the factory worker, and, preparing
to go to sleep, put his head in his wifeâs lap.
Nekhludoff sat a while with the old man, who told him all about
himself. The old man was a stove builder, who had been working
for 53 years, and had built so many stoves that he had lost
count, and now he wanted to rest, but had no time. He had been to
town and found employment for the young ones, and was now going
to the country to see the people at home. After hearing the old
manâs story, Nekhludoff went to the place that Taras was keeping
for him.
âItâs all right, sir; sit down; weâll put the bag here,â said the
gardener, who sat opposite Taras, in a friendly tone, looking up
into Nekhludoffâs face.
âRather a tight fit, but no matter since we are friends,â said
Taras, smiling, and lifting the bag, which weighed more than five
stone, as if it were a feather, he carried it across to the
window.
âPlenty of room; besides, we might stand up a bit; and even under
the seat itâs as comfortable as you could wish. Whatâs the good
of humbugging?â he said, beaming with friendliness and kindness.
Taras spoke of himself as being unable to utter a word when quite
sober; but drink, he said, helped him to find the right words,
and then he could express everything. And in reality, when he was
sober Taras kept silent; but when he had been drinking, which
happened rarely and only on special occasions, he became very
pleasantly talkative. Then he spoke a great deal, spoke well and
very simply and truthfully, and especially with great kindliness,
which shone in his gentle, blue eyes and in the friendly smile
that never left his lips. He was in such a state to-day.
Nekhludoffâs approach interrupted the conversation; but when he
had put the bag in its place, Taras sat down again, and with his
strong hands folded in his lap, and looking straight into the
gardenerâs face, continued his story. He was telling his new
acquaintance about his wife and giving every detail: what she was
being sent to Siberia for, and why he was now following her.
Nekhludoff had never heard a detailed account of this affair, and
so he listened with interest. When he came up, the story had
reached the point when the attempt to poison was already an
accomplished fact, and the family had discovered that it was
Theodosiaâs doing.
âItâs about my troubles that Iâm talking,â said Taras, addressing
Nekhludoff with cordial friendliness. âI have chanced to come
across such a hearty man, and weâve got into conversation, and
Iâm telling him all.â
âI see,â said Nekhludoff.
âWell, then in this way, my friend, the business became known.
Mother, she takes that cake. âIâm going,â says she, âto the
police officer.â My father is a just old man. âWait, wife,â says
he, âthe little woman is a mere child, and did not herself know
what she was doing. We must have pity. She may come to her
senses.â But, dear me, mother would not hear of it. âWhile we
keep her here,â she says, âshe may destroy us all like
cockroaches.â Well, friend, so she goes off for the police
officer. He bounces in upon us at once. Calls for witnesses.â
âWell, and you?â asked the gardener.
âWell, I, you see, friend, roll about with the pain in my
stomach, and vomit. All my inside is turned inside out; I canât
even speak. Well, so father he goes and harnesses the mare, and
puts Theodosia into the cart, and is off to the police-station,
and then to the magistrateâs. And she, you know, just as she had
done from the first, so also there, confesses all to the
magistrateâwhere she got the arsenic, and how she kneaded the
cake. âWhy did you do it?â says he. âWhy,â says she, âbecause
heâs hateful to me. I prefer Siberia to a life with him.â Thatâs
me,â and Taras smiled.
âWell, so she confessed all. Then, naturallyâthe prison, and
father returns alone. And harvest time just coming, and mother
the only woman at home, and she no longer strong. So we think
what we are to do. Could we not bail her out? So father went to
see an official. No go. Then another. I think he went to five of
them, and we thought of giving it up. Then we happened to come
across a clerkâsuch an artful one as you donât often find. âYou
give me five roubles, and Iâll get her out,â says he. He agreed
to do it for three. Well, and what do you think, friend? I went
and pawned the linen she herself had woven, and gave him the
money. As soon as he had written that paper,â drawled out Taras,
just as if he were speaking of a shot being fired, âwe succeeded
at once. I went to fetch her myself. Well, friend, so I got to
town, put up the mare, took the paper, and went to the prison.
âWhat do you want?â âThis is what I want,â say I, âyouâve got my
wife here in prison.â âAnd have you got a paper?â I gave him the
paper. He gave it a look. âWait,â says he. So I sat down on a
bench. It was already past noon by the sun. An official comes
out. âYou are Vargoushoff?â âI am.â âWell, you may take her.â The
gates opened, and they led her out in her own clothes quite all
right. âWell, come along. Have you come on foot?â âNo, I have the
horse here.â So I went and paid the ostler, and harnessed, put in
all the hay that was left, and covered it with sacking for her to
sit on. She got in and wrapped her shawl round her, and off we
drove. She says nothing and I say nothing. Just as we were coming
up to the house she says, âAnd howâs mother; is she alive?â âYes,
sheâs alive.â âAnd father; is he alive? âYes, he is.â âForgive
me, Taras,â she says, âfor my folly. I did not myself know what I
was doing.â So I say, âWords wonât mend matters. I have forgiven
you long ago,â and I said no more. We got home, and she just fell
at motherâs feet. Mother says, âThe Lord will forgive you.â And
father said, âHow dâyou do?â and âWhatâs past is past. Live as
best you can. Now,â says he, âis not the time for all that;
thereâs the harvest to be gathered in down at Skorodino,â he
says. âDown on the manured acre, by the Lordâs help, the ground
has borne such rye that the sickle canât tackle it. Itâs all
interwoven and heavy, and has sunk beneath its weight; that must
be reaped. You and Taras had better go and see to it tomorrow.â
Well, friend, from that moment she took to the work and worked so
that every one wondered. At that time we rented three desiatins,
and by Godâs help we had a wonderful crop both of oats and rye. I
mow and she binds the sheaves, and sometimes we both of us reap.
I am good at work and not afraid of it, but sheâs better still at
whatever she takes up. Sheâs a smart woman, young, and full of
life; and as to work, friend, sheâd grown that eager that I had
to stop her. We get home, our fingers swollen, our arms aching,
and she, instead of resting, rushes off to the barn to make
binders for the sheaves for next day. Such a change!â
âWell, and to you? Was she kinder, now?â asked the gardener.
âThatâs beyond question. She clings to me as if we were one soul.
Whatever I think she understands. Even mother, angry as she was,
could not help saying: âItâs as if our Theodosia had been
transformed; sheâs quite a different woman now!â We were once
going to cart the sheaves with two carts. She and I were in the
first, and I say, âHow could you think of doing that, Theodosia?â
and she says, âHow could I think of it? just so, I did not wish
to live with you. I thought Iâd rather die than live with you!â I
say, âAnd now?â and she says, âNow youâre in my heart!ââ Taras
stopped, and smiled joyfully, shook his head as if surprised.
âHardly had we got the harvest home when I went to soak the hemp,
and when I got home there was a summons, she must go to be tried,
and we had forgotten all about the matter that she was to be
tried for.â
âIt can only be the evil one,â said the gardener. âCould any man
of himself think of destroying a living soul? We had a fellow
onceââ and the gardener was about to commence his tale when the
train began to stop.
âIt seems we are coming to a station,â he said. âIâll go and have
a drink.â
The conversation stopped, and Nekhludoff followed the gardener
out of the carriage onto the wet platform of the station.
CHAPTER XLII.
LE VRAI GRAND MONDE.
Before Nekhludoff got out he had noticed in the station yard
several elegant equipages, some with three, some with four,
well-fed horses, with tinkling bells on their harness. When he
stepped out on the wet, dark-coloured boards of the platform, he
saw a group of people in front of the first-class carriage, among
whom were conspicuous a stout lady with costly feathers on her
hat, and a waterproof, and a tall, thin-legged young man in a
cycling suit. The young man had by his side an enormous, well-fed
dog, with a valuable collar. Behind them stood footmen, holding
wraps and umbrellas, and a coachman, who had also come to meet
the train.
On the whole of the group, from the fat lady down to the coachman
who stood holding up his long coat, there lay the stamp of wealth
and quiet self-assurance. A curious and servile crowd rapidly
gathered round this groupâthe station-master, in his red cap, a
gendarme, a thin young lady in a Russian costume, with beads
round her neck, who made a point of seeing the trains come in all
through the summer, a telegraph clerk, and passengers, men and
women.
In the young man with the dog Nekhludoff recognised young
Korchagin, a gymnasium student. The fat lady was the Princessâs
sister, to whose estate the Korchagins were now moving. The
guard, with his gold cord and shiny top-boots, opened the carriage
door and stood holding
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