The Created Legend Fyodor Sologub (chromebook ebook reader txt) đ
- Author: Fyodor Sologub
Book online «The Created Legend Fyodor Sologub (chromebook ebook reader txt) đ». Author Fyodor Sologub
A small, frail schoolmaster with a squeaky voice came. Then another, a third, and still othersâ âan endless flock of peaceful men with wails of revolt.
And yet another dream.
The city square was bathed in the bright sunlight. A muzhik appeared and shouted at the top of his voice:
âHey there! Stand up for your govâr-ment, and for holy Russia!â
Another muzhik came in answer to his shout, then a third and a fourth. Slowly and steadily the crowd grew, the turmoil increased. A muzhik in a white apron wearing a conspicuous emblem7 made his way through the crowd and, screwing up his mouth, cried like a madman:
âFor Rush-ya, I say, fellows, kill âem!â
He threw himself on Elisaveta and began to strangle her.
She awoke.
Again there was a dark, terrible dream. Nothing as yet was to be seen, it was hard to tell what was happening. But fear filled the intense darkness. Dark figures seemed to throng in it. The darkness cleared a little, the atmosphere became ominously grey. A narrow courtyard slowly outlined itself, flanked by high walls with windows closely intersected by bars. Her heart whispered audibly:
âA prison. A prison courtyard.â
Out of a narrow door prisoners were being conducted into the still dark courtyard on a cold early morning in winter. They walked in single fileâ âa soldier, a prisoner, a soldier, a prisoner, a soldierâ âthere seemed to be no end to it; there was a steady shuffling of feet across the courtyard. A small gate opened in the wall with a creaking sound. All walked through it. And beyond the wall Elisaveta already caught a glimpse of a flat, endless field of snow, and of a whole row of gallows that stretched into the invisible distance. They were approaching these nearer and nearerâ âto meet their fate.
She could not remember how it happened, but she also walked with them. A soldier strode in front of her and in front of the soldier was a boy. Though the boy had his back to her she recognized himâ âit was Misha. Terror paralysed her tongueâ âwhen she tried to cry out she could not find her voice. Terror fettered her feetâ âwhen she tried to run she remained rooted to the spot. Terror gripped her armsâ âwhen she tried to lift them they hung helplessly at her sides.
People were being hanged at the nearest gallows and the prisoners had to walk past the hanged ones to the gallows beyond. Misha was being hanged, but he broke loose. He was hanged again, and again he broke loose. This happened an endless number of times, and each time he broke loose.
She could see a furious face and the grey bristles of trimmed moustaches. She could hear the malignant cry:
âWe must finish him off!â
A shot was fired; there was a low, dull discharge: the boy fell and began to toss on the ground. Another shotâ âthe boy kept on tossing. The shots came fasterâ âbut the boy was still alive.
Elisaveta awoke; this time she did not go to sleep again. Her heart beat half with pain, half with joy, because it was but a dreamâ âbut a dream! Her heart was bright with exultant joy.
The golden arrows of the yet quiet and gentle Dragon fell softly with sidelong glances. Evidently it was still early. In the distance Elisaveta could hear the sound of a horn and the lowing of cows. The bedroom walls were tinged with rose light. The early light stole in through the windows and messaged an altogether new, better day. A refreshing breeze blew in through the open window, the twitter of birds also entered, the air resounded with early morning joy.
Elisaveta was soon aware that Elena was also awake.
VIIBoth sisters had slept badly that night. Elisaveta was worn out by nightmares, while Elena woke several times and went to her. Both felt the sweet after-dizziness of sleep suddenly cut short by the Dragonâs sickles. Their memories pursued one another in a confused, vivid flock. They began to recall the circumstances of yesterdayâs visit. A secret agitation, akin to shame, stole over them. Little by little they conquered this feeling during the day. Alone again, they discussed what they had seen at Trirodovâs. A strange forgetfulness came upon them. The details of the visit grew more vague the more they tried to recall them. They found themselves in constant disagreement, and corrected one another. It might have been a dream. Now it seemed one, now the other. Was it reality or a dream? Where is the borderline? Whether life be a sweet or a bitter dream, it passes by like a swift vision!
Three days passed by. Again the day was quiet and clear, again the high Dragon smiled his malignant, excessively bright smile. He counted, as he rose, his livid seconds, his flaming minutes; and he let fall upon the earth, with a scarcely perceptible echo, his lead-heavy but transparent hours. It was three oâclock in the afternoon; they had just finished luncheon. The Rameyevs and the Matovs were at home. Again Elisaveta wrangled with Piotr and, as before, the discussion was long, heated and discordantâ âeveryone left the table flustered and depressed; the hopeless confusion of it all deeply affected even the usually composed Miss Harrison.
The sisters were left by themselves. They went out on the lower balcony and pretended to read. They appeared to be waiting for something. This waiting made their hearts beat fast under their heaving breasts.
Elisaveta, letting the book fall upon her knees, was the first to break the heavy silence.
âI think he is coming today.â
The breeze blew at that moment, there was a rustle in the foliage and a little bird suddenly began to chirp away somewhereâ âand it seemed as if the depressed garden were glad because of these lively, resonant, quickly uttered words.
âWho?â asked Elena.
The insincerity of her question made her flush quite suddenly. She knew very well whom Elisaveta meant. The latter glanced at her and said:
âTrirodov, of course. It
Comments (0)