The Little Demon Fyodor Sologub (large ebook reader .TXT) 📖

Bengalsky, carrying the Geisha, ran through the dining-room into the kitchen. She lay tranquilly in his arms and said nothing. Bengalsky thought he could hear the strong beating of the Geisha’s heart. On her tightly-clutching bare arms he noticed several scratches and near the elbow the blue-yellow stain of a bruise. In a hurried voice Bengalsky said to the crowding servants in the kitchen:

“Quick, an overcoat, a dressing-gown, a sheet⁠—anything! I must save this lady.”

An overcoat was thrown on Sasha’s shoulders, Bengalsky somehow wrapped it round the Geisha, and traversing the dark stairs, lighted by dim, smoky paraffin lamps, carried her into the yard and through a gate into the street.

“Take off the mask. You’ll be more likely to be recognised with it on⁠—and anyway it’s quite dark here. I’ll tell no one,” said he rather inconsistently.

He was curious. He knew for certain that it was not Kashtanova, but who was it then? The Geisha obeyed. Bengalsky saw an unfamiliar, smooth face, on which fright was giving place to an expression of joy at an escaped danger. A pair of cheerful eyes gazed at the actor’s face.

“How can I thank you?” said the Geisha in a clear voice. “What would have become of me, if you hadn’t saved me?”

“She’s no coward. An interesting little woman!” thought the actor. “But who is she?”

It was obvious that she was a new arrival; Bengalsky knew the women of the district. He said quietly to Sasha:

“I must take you home at once. Give me your address and I’ll call a cabby.”

The Geisha’s face again became dark with fear.

“You mustn’t, you simply mustn’t,” she whispered. “I will go home alone. Let me down here.”

“But how can you go home in such mud and with those wooden shoes. You’d better let me call a cab,” said the actor persuasively.

“No, I’ll go by myself. For God’s sake let me down,” entreated the Geisha.

“I give you my word of honour I won’t tell anyone,” said Bengalsky reassuringly. “I mustn’t let you go, you’ll catch cold. I’m responsible for you now, and I can’t let you go. But tell me quickly⁠—they might get after you even here. You saw what savages they are. They’re capable of anything.”

The Geisha trembled, quick tears suddenly trickled from her eyes. She said, sobbing:

“Terribly cruel people! Take me to the Routilovs for the present and I’ll spend the night there.”

Bengalsky called a cab. They got in and drove off. The actor looked intently at the Geisha’s face. There seemed to him to be something strange about it. The Geisha turned her face away. The town-talk about Liudmilla and a schoolboy suddenly occurred to Bengalsky’s mind.

“Ah-ha! You’re a boy!” he said in a whisper, so that the cabby should not hear.

“For God’s sake!” said Sasha growing pale with fear.

And his smooth hands under the overcoat stretched themselves towards Bengalsky with a movement of entreaty. Bengalsky laughed quietly and whispered:

“I won’t tell anyone. Don’t be afraid. My business is to get you home safe, and beyond that I know nothing. But you’re a daring kid. Won’t they find out at home?”

“If you don’t say anything no one will know,” said Sasha in a voice of gentle entreaty.

“You can depend on me. I shall be silent as the grave,” replied the actor. “I was a boy myself once; I was up to all sorts of pranks.”

The clamour in the Club had already begun to calm down, but the evening terminated in a new calamity. While they were tussling with the Geisha in the corridor, the flaming nedotikomka, jumping on the lustres, laughed and insistently whispered to Peredonov that he should strike a match and let loose her, the flaming but confined nedotikomka on these dingy, dirty walls, and, when she had gorged herself with the destruction of this building where such terrible and incomprehensible deeds were happening, then she would leave Peredonov unmolested. And Peredonov could not resist her importunate whisper. He entered the little dining-room which was next to the dancing-hall. It was empty. Peredonov looked around, struck a match, put it to the window curtain at the floor and waited till the hangings caught fire. The flaming nedotikomka, like an active little snake, crept up the curtain, squealing softly and happily. Peredonov walked out of the dining-room, closing the door behind him. No one noticed the incendiary.

The fire was only seen from the street when the whole room was in flames. The fire spread quickly. The people escaped⁠—but the Club House was burnt down.

On the next day the town talked of nothing but the Geisha affair and the fire. Bengalsky kept his word and told no one that the Geisha was a disguised boy.

As for Sasha he had redressed himself that night at Routilovs and, turning once more into a simple barefoot boy, ran home, crept through the window and went quietly to sleep. In the town, seething with slanders, in the town where everyone knew everything about everyone, Sasha’s nocturnal adventure remained a secret. For long, but, of course, not for always.

Ekaterina Ivanovna Pilnikova, Sasha’s aunt and guardian, received simultaneously two letters about Sasha⁠—one from the Headmaster and the other from Kokovkina. These letters greatly alarmed her. She put all her affairs aside and drove at once from her village through the muddy autumn roads to our town. Sasha, who loved his aunt, met her with great joy. His aunt came with the intention of rating him soundly. But he threw himself on her neck with such gladness and kissed her hands so affectionately that she could not at first speak severely to him.

“Dear Auntie, how good of you to come!” said Sasha, and looked happily at her full, rosy face with its kind dimples on the cheeks and its grave, hazel eyes.

“You’d better postpone your pleasure, I must scold you first,” said his aunt in an irresolute voice.

“I don’t mind that,” said Sasha indifferently, “scold me, if you have anything to