Short Fiction Vladimir Korolenko (best motivational novels .TXT) 📖
- Author: Vladimir Korolenko
Book online «Short Fiction Vladimir Korolenko (best motivational novels .TXT) 📖». Author Vladimir Korolenko
“ ‘You see I’ve come,’ said Yelena. … ‘What do you want?’
“Suddenly, with such a deep and simple grief, she added:
“ ‘You’ve been torturing me. …’
“She said this … with such a sincere and heartfelt groan. Before, yes, and after, she always spoke formally to him, but that time … a woman’s heart, sick with shame and love, used the form of affection—frankly, unconditionally, freely. …
“ ‘You’ve tortured me, too, Yelena Petrovna,’ answered Gavrilo. ‘I’ve lost my strength. I’ve dried up. I can’t work and I can’t eat. …’
“ ‘What are you going to do now?’ asked Yelena.
“ ‘What?’ he said. ‘Marry you, of course.’
“For a few minutes neither spoke. Yelena seemed to be weeping softly. And yet that silence was wonderfully clear, simple, frank. ‘You see the situation: you’re no match for me; I would have worked for Budnikov as well as I could, gone to the village, gotten a place, married and taken some good girl. … But that’s past; willy nilly I want you as you are. …’
“ ‘I’m lost,’ said Yelena softly.
“ ‘Why, Yelena Petrovna,’ answered Gavrilo, with a grim tenderness. … ‘I don’t see that you’re lost. … It’s just the same. … I can’t live. … Like a corpse. … I can’t eat. … I’ve got no strength. …’
“Yelena wept more loudly. … She was having a good cry. It seemed painful but healing. Gavrilo said sternly:
“ ‘Come, what are you going to do? … Are you coming?’
“Yelena apparently exerted herself, stopped weeping, and answered the repeated question:
“ ‘Do you fear God, Gavrilo Stepanich?’
“ ‘Why?’ asked Gavrilo.
“ ‘You won’t find fault with me?’
“ ‘No,’ he said, ‘I won’t find fault with you. And I won’t let anyone else. If you’re serious in throwing this overboard forever. … Forever. … I’ll trust you. …’
“Silence. I didn’t hear Yelena’s answer. I only imagined that she must have turned to the east, and perhaps there was an icon in the room. … She crossed herself. … Then she suddenly took his head in her arms and I heard them kiss. That same instant Yelena ran out, rushed almost to the house, but she suddenly stopped, opened the gate, and came into the garden.
“Then she caught sight of me. … But it didn’t embarrass her. She walked up, stopped, and looked at me out of her happy eyes, and said:
“ ‘Do you always take a walk mornings? … Friend. …’
“Suddenly, overcome by her emotions, she came nearer, took hold of my shoulders, shook me unceremoniously, looked into my eyes, and laughed. … It was so naive. She felt that I had been listening and saw nothing bad in it. … When Gavrilo came out with his broom and also entered the garden, she blushed and ran past him. Gavrilo looked after her with quiet joy, and then his gaze fell on me. He bowed with his habitual quiet politeness and commenced to sweep the path. He again showed that same beautiful and effortless play of healthy, free muscles. … And I remember how the monastery bell sounded for early matins—it was Sunday. Gavrilo stopped in a broad bay of the alley, took off his cap, held the broom in his left hand, and crossed himself with his right. The whole seemed to me so extraordinarily bright and beautiful. The man stood in the centre of a world of light, where everything was very good, that is, all his relations to earth and heaven. … In a word, it was so soothing a sight that I went to my room and fell fast asleep after so many sleepless nights. There’s something healing and calming in honest human happiness. You know it sometimes occurs to me that we are all bound to be well and happy, because … you see … happiness is the highest possible condition of spiritual health. And health is contagious like disease. … We are so to speak open on all sides: to the sun, wind, and other things. Others enter us, and we them, without noticing it. … And that’s why—”
Pavel Semenovich suddenly stopped as he felt the fixed and cynical gaze of Petr Petrovich.
“Yes, yes! … Excuse me,” he said, “this is really a little unclear. …”
“It is a little. You’d better go on. Without philosophy. …”
“… M. Budnikov woke me up. It happened to be the twentieth. He came as usual, and as usual he drank two cups of tea with rum, but I saw that M. Budnikov was out of humor, and even nervous. … And I involuntarily connected it with the incident of the morning.
“For some time he kept out of sorts and everyone around noticed that something secret and hidden had gone wrong between master and servant. Gavrilo wanted to leave. … Budnikov would not let him go, although he often told me that he was disappointed in Gavrilo. As I was walking one day through the garden, I saw them both standing by the gate and talking. Budnikov was excited; Gavrilo, calm. He was standing in an easy position and kept looking at his spade, which was stuck in the ground. He was evidently insisting on something which enraged Budnikov. … But I thought that the subject of conversation created between them a strange equality. …
“ ‘Yes, friend, of course, it’s your business,’ said M. Budnikov. He caught sight of me but did not think it necessary to change the subject. He spoke spitefully and angrily. … ‘Yes. … You’re a free man. … But just remember, Gavrilo Stepanich, if you have any utilitarian object, … I, of course, can give only a very small sum. …’
“M. Budnikov was unable to speak simply, and used foreign words, even when talking to Gavrilo. … Gavrilo looked at him calmly and answered:
“ ‘We don’t want anything. … We have enough. …’
“M. Budnikov glanced cautiously at him and answered:
“ ‘Fine! Remember! Afterwards. … I’ll go to Petersburg on business. … Do what you want to.’
“Gavrilo bowed and said:
“ ‘I thank you. …’
“ ‘Excuse me,’ replied M. Budnikov, with
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