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

listening to the sound. “Bah! See! there is one of them left behind, it seems!”

Just then, at a short distance from us, a tall figure darted out of a bush and in again, and now we could hear distinctly the sound of footsteps retreating from the road in four different places. The “Slayer” went up to his horses as quietly as before, arranged the harness, making the bell tinkle as he touched the duga,26 and mounted to his seat.

Suddenly, from the rock below the “Finger,” there came a flash, followed by a report, startling the silence of the night. We heard something strike against the carriage and then against the bushes.

The “Slayer,” dashing towards the bushes like an infuriated wild beast, exclaimed, in an agitated voice:⁠—

“Mind what you do, Kóyska! You had better not fool any more, I warn you! If you had hurt my harmless beasts⁠ ⁠… I should have got even with you, were you to travel a hundred versts!⁠ ⁠… Don’t fire, sir!” he added sternly, addressing me.

“You had better look out for yourself, ‘Slayer,’ ” answered a voice, that was evidently held in control, and one that did not sound like Kostiúshka’s. “Why do you put your nose in other people’s business, when you are not wanted?”

The speaker seemed to be afraid of being overheard by others beside the one whom he was addressing.

“I wouldn’t threaten if I were you, Your Honor,” replied the driver, contemptuously. “I am not afraid of you, though you have made common cause with the cormorants!”

A few minutes later, the hollow beneath the Devil’s Finger was left behind, and we were once more following the broad thoroughfare.

III “The Slayer”

We drove four versts in utter silence; I was meditating on what had just happened, while the driver sat playing with the reins, alternately urging and holding in his horses. I was the first to speak.

“I am greatly obliged to you, my friend! It would have gone ill with me, had it not been for you.”

“You owe me no thanks,” he replied.

“What do you mean!⁠ ⁠… That was evidently a desperate crowd!⁠ ⁠…”

“That’s true.⁠ ⁠…”

“Do you know those men?”

“I know Kostiúshka.⁠ ⁠… But, then, I suppose every dog knows that rascal!⁠ ⁠… The merchant, too, I have seen before⁠ ⁠… but the one who was left behind I don’t think I ever saw.⁠ ⁠… Yes, I suppose he relied on Kostiúshka to do the business.⁠ ⁠… No, sir, Kostiúshka is not to be trusted! He is the first one to run!⁠ ⁠… But the man I speak of is no coward.⁠ ⁠…”

He paused.

“This has never happened before⁠ ⁠… not this kind of business,”⁠ ⁠… he began again, slightly shaking his head.⁠ ⁠… “I wonder how Kostiúshka got hold of him.⁠ ⁠… He is gathering the cormorants together against me, the cursed rascal!⁠ ⁠…”

“And why are they afraid of you?”

The driver smiled.

“Yes, there is no doubt they are afraid of me. I gave one of them his quietus, not far from here.⁠ ⁠…”

He reined in the horses, and, turning towards me, he said: “Look back; do you see the hollow yonder!⁠ ⁠… I killed a man there, on that very spot!”

It seemed to me that his voice trembled as he uttered these words, and, by the light of the dawn, that was beginning to brighten the eastern sky, I fancied I could detect an expression of deep sadness in his eyes.

We had reached the top of the hill, where we paused. The road ran towards the west. Behind us, outlined against the brightening sky, stood the bold wooded hill whose rocky summit looked like a giant finger uplifted to the clouds.

The morning breeze blew fresh on the hilltop, and the chilled horses, snorting impatiently, pawed the ground. The middle horse was about to start when the driver, checking him, bent over on his box and peered in the direction of the hollow.

Then, suddenly turning, he gathered up the reins, rose on the box, and shouted aloud.

Starting on a gallop, we fairly flew from the top of the hill to the bottom. It was a wild ride. With flattened ears, the horses dashed onward, as if beside themselves with fear, while the driver continued to rise from his seat and to wave his right arm. The troika seemed to feel, although it could not see, his motions.⁠ ⁠… The ground vanished beneath the wheels; the trees and shrubs ran to meet us, and seemed to fall as we passed, as though beaten down by a furious gale.⁠ ⁠…

When we were again on level ground, the horses were steaming. The middle horse panted heavily, and the side horses trembled, snorted, and moved their ears restlessly to and fro. Little by little, however, their terror left them. The driver slackened the reins, and spoke in soothing tones: “Gently, dearies, gently!⁠ ⁠… Don’t be frightened!⁠ ⁠… Isn’t it wonderful that a horse, a dumb beast,” he said to me, “should understand so well⁠ ⁠… for, every time we reach the top of this hill, it is impossible to hold them.⁠ ⁠… They scent a crime.⁠ ⁠…”

“That may be so,” I said, “but you urged them yourself just now.”

“Did I, really? Well, maybe I did! Ah, sir, if you knew what a weight there is on my mind!⁠ ⁠…”

“Well, if you tell me, I shall know!⁠ ⁠…”

The “Slayer” looked down.

“Very well,” he replied, after a pause, “I will tell you.⁠ ⁠… Go on, my darlings, don’t be frightened!⁠ ⁠…” And the horses started at an easy trot along the soft road.

“It all took place long ago,⁠ ⁠… and yet not so long ago, either; but much has happened since, and the great change in my life makes the past seem far away! I have been deeply wronged by those who were my superiors. And God, also, sent me sorrow; I lost my young wife and my child at one stroke, and, having no parents, I was left quite alone in the world, with neither relatives nor friends; and the priest himself took what little remained to me, to pay for the funeral. Living quite alone, I had more chance for meditation; and