Short Fiction Vladimir Korolenko (best motivational novels .TXT) 📖

not come out without a purpose. He would not have driven the horses so far without some object.⁠ ⁠… I can tell you that he scents prey from afar, the devil! I am sure of it! And that merchant, I was just thinking about him,” he added thoughtfully, after a short pause; “I wonder if he can be their object?⁠ ⁠… I can hardly believe it; however, they have a new man with them, whom I never saw before.”

“The one who lay stretched out in the telyéga?”

“The very one.⁠ ⁠… He must be an expert⁠ ⁠… a healthy-looking devil!⁠ ⁠…

“Take my advice, sir,” he said, suddenly turning toward me; “be on your guard⁠ ⁠… do not travel by night. They may be following you, for all you know, those wretches!⁠ ⁠…”

“Do you know me?” I asked.

He turned away, and affected to play with the reins.

“We are supposed to know nothing,” he replied, evasively. “It was rumored that Koodín’s clerk, from the city, was soon to pass this way.⁠ ⁠… But this is no business of ours.”

Evidently, I was known here. I had been retained in a lawsuit brought by the firm of Koodín against the government, and had just won it. My patrons were very popular in these places, and in all Western Siberia, and the suit had made a great sensation. Having recently received a very large sum of money, I was hastening to the city of N⁠⸺, where I had to meet some payments which were clue. I had very little time to spare, the postal communications were irregular, and therefore I carried the money on my own person. I travelled night and day⁠—sometimes leaving the highway, when I could gain time by taking a shortcut. In view of the rumors that had spread concerning me, which were calculated to excite myriads of hungry cormorants, I was beginning to feel somewhat anxious.

As I glanced behind me, in spite of the gathering darkness, I could easily distinguish the swiftly galloping troika, followed at some distance by the merchant’s wagonette.

II “The Hollow Below the Devil’s Finger”

At the N⁠⸺ post-station, where I arrived in the evening, there were no horses to be found.

“Do take my advice, Iván Seménovitch!” the stout and good-natured stationmaster entreated me, “and do not travel by night. Never mind your business. One’s life is more precious than other people’s money. For miles around the only subjects talked about are your lawsuit and this large sum of money. No doubt, the cormorants will be on the alert.⁠ ⁠… Do spend the night here!⁠ ⁠…”

Of course, I realized all the wisdom of this advice; but, still, I felt that I could not follow it.

“I must go on!⁠ ⁠… Please send for private horses.⁠ ⁠…”

“You are an obstinate man, I must confess; but I will give you a trusty ‘friend.’24 He will carry you to B⁠⸺, to the Molokán.25 But you really must spend the night there. You will have to pass the Devil’s Hollow. It is a lonely place, and the people are audacious.⁠ ⁠… Better wait till daylight!⁠ ⁠…”

Half an hour later I sat on my telyéga, listening to the advice and good-wishes of my friend. The willing horses started at once; and the driver, encouraged by the promise of a fee, urged them to their utmost speed. We reached B⁠⸺ in a very short time.

“Where will you take me now?” I asked him.

“To my friend the Molokán. He is a trustworthy man.”

Passing several huts in the woods, we stopped at the gate of a respectable house, where we were met by a venerable-looking man, with a long gray beard, holding a lantern in his hand; raising it above his head, he scrutinized me for a moment, and then remarked, in a quiet way:

“Ah, Iván Semenovitch!⁠ ⁠… Some fellows who passed, just now, bade me look out for Koodín’s clerk, from the city,⁠ ⁠… and get the horses ready for him.⁠ ⁠… And I asked them what business it was of theirs.⁠ ⁠… ‘Very likely, he may wish to spend the night,’ I said.⁠ ⁠… It is getting late, you know.”

“What fellows were they?” interrupted my driver.

“The Lord only knows! Cormorants, most likely! They looked like rascals.⁠ ⁠… I suppose they came from the city; but who they are, I cannot say. Who does know anything about them?⁠ ⁠… But will you spend the night, sir?”

“No, I cannot; and please get horses for me as quickly as possible!” I said, somewhat uneasy at the rumors that seemed to have preceded me.

“Walk into the hut; it will be more comfortable than to stand here.⁠ ⁠… Really, I have no horses. Yesterday I sent the boy into the city with some goods. What will you do now? You had better sleep here.”

My distress at this fresh disappointment was deepened by the darkness and gloom of the stormy autumn night peculiar to Siberia. The sky was so overcast that one could hardly trace the outlines of the heavy clouds, and on the ground a man could not see objects two steps before him. A drizzling rain had begun to fall, and from the woods came a mysterious rustling.

Still, I felt obliged to continue my journey, in spite of all obstacles. Entering the hut, I asked the proprietor to send at once to one of the neighbors to obtain horses.

“I fear you may regret this hurry, my dear sir,” said the old man, shaking his gray head. “And such a night as this is!⁠—Egyptian darkness, and nothing less!”

When my driver came in, he and the old man held a prolonged consultation. At last they both addressed themselves to me, entreating me to remain over night. Still I insisted, and then the two began to whisper together, and I could overhear certain names as they discussed the matter. “Very well, then,” said the driver, as though reluctantly yielding to the master of the house, “your horses will be ready for you; I am going now to the clearing.”

“Will not that require a long time?⁠—I wish you could find them nearer home.⁠ ⁠…”

“It