the man who was afraid-第44部分

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　huge　basketclutching　at　one　another；　they　twined　about　heavily；　crawled　somewhere　and　interfered　with　one　another；　and　could　do　nothing　to　free　themselves　from　captivity。

Foma　saw　familiar　faces　amid　the　crowd：　there　his　father　is　walking　boldly；　sturdily　pushing　aside　and　overthrowing　everybody　on　his　way；　he　is　working　with　his　long　paws；　massing　everything　with　his　chest；　and　laughing　in　thundering　tones。　And　then　he　disappears；　sinking　somewhere　in　the　depth；　beneath　the　feet　of　the　people。　There；　wriggling　like　a　snake；　now　jumping　on　people's　shoulders；　now　gliding　between　their　feet；　his　godfather　is　working　with　his　lean；　but　supple　and　sinewy　body。　Here　Lubov　is　crying　and　struggling；　following　her　father；　with　abrupt　but　faint　movements；　now　remaining　behind　him；　now　nearing　him　again。　Striding　softly　with　a　kind　smile　on　her　face；　stepping　aside　from　everybody；　and　making　way　for　everyone；　Aunt　Anfisa　is　slowly　moving　along。　Her　image　quivers　in　the　darkness　before　Foma；　like　the　modest　flame　of　a　wax　candle。　And　it　dies　out　and　disappears　in　the　darkness。　Pelagaya　is　quickly　going　somewhere　along　a　straight　road。　There　Sophya　Pavlovna　Medinskaya　is　standing；　her　hands　hanging　impotently；　just　as　she　stood　in　her　drawing…room　when　he　saw　her　last。　Her　eyes　were　large；　but　some　great　fright　gleams　in　them。　Sasha；　too；　is　here。　Indifferent；　paying　no　attention　to　the　jostling；　she　is　stoutly　going　straight　into　the　very　dregs　of　life；　singing　her　songs　at　the　top　of　her　voice；　her　dark　eyes　fixed　in　the　distance　before　her。　Foma　hears　tumult；　howls；　laughter；　drunken　shouts；　irritable　disputes　about　copeckssongs　and　sobs　hover　over　this　enormous　restless　heap　of　living　human　bodies　crowded　into　a　pit。　They　jump；　fall；　crawl；　crush　one　another；　leap　on　one　another's　shoulders；　grope　everywhere　like　blind　people；　stumbling　everywhere　over　others　like　themselves；　struggle；　and；　falling；　disappear　from　sight。　Money　rustles；　soaring　like　bats　over　the　heads　of　the　people；　and　the　people　greedily　stretch　out　their　hands　toward　it；　the　gold　and　silver　jingles；　bottles　rattle；　corks　pop；　someone　sobs；　and　a　melancholy　female　voice　sings：

〃And　so　let　us　live　while　we　can；　And　thene'en　grass　may　cease　to　grow！〃

This　wild　picture　fastened　itself　firmly　in　Foma's　mind；　and　growing　clearer；　larger　and　more　vivid　with　each　time　it　arose　before　him；　rousing　in　his　breast　something　chaotic；　one　great　indefinite　feeling　into　which　fell；　like　streams　into　a　river；　fear　and　revolt　and　compassion　and　wrath　and　many　another　thing。　All　this　boiled　up　within　his　breast　into　strained　desire；　which　was　thrusting　it　asunder　into　a　desire　whose　power　was　choking　him；　and　his　eyes　were　filled　with　tears；　he　longed　to　shout；　to　howl　like　a　beast；　to　frighten　all　the　people；　to　check　their　senseless　bustle；　to　pour　into　the　tumult　and　vanity　of　their　life　something　new；　his　own　to　tell　them　certain　loud　firm　words；　to　guide　them　all　into　one　direction；　and　not　one　against　another。　He　desired　to　seize　them　by　their　heads；　to　tear　them　apart　one　from　another；　to　thrash　some；　to　fondle　others；　to　reproach　them　all；　to　illumine　them　with　a　certain　fire。

There　was　nothing　in　him；　neither　the　necessary　words；　nor　the　fire；　all　he　had　was　the　longing　which　was　clear　to　him；　but　impossible　of　fulfillment。　He　pictured　himself　above　life　outside　of　the　deep　valley；　wherein　people　were　bustling　about；　he　saw　himself　standing　firmly　on　his　feet　andspeechless。　He　might　have　cried　to　the　people：

〃See　how　you　live！　Aren't　you　ashamed？〃

And　he　might　have　abused　them。　But　if　they　were　to　ask　on　hearing　his　voice：

〃And　how　ought　we　to　live？〃

It　was　perfectly　clear　to　him　that　after　such　a　question　he　would　have　to　fly　down　head　foremost　from　the　heights　there；　beneath　the　feet　of　the　throng；　upon　the　millstone。　And　laughter　would　accompany　him　to　his　destruction。

Sometimes　he　was　delirious　under　the　pressure　of　this　nightmare。　Certain　meaningless　and　unconnected　words　burst　from　his　lips；　he　even　perspired　from　this　painful　struggle　within　him。　At　times　it　occurred　to　him　that　he　was　going　mad　from　intoxication；　and　that　that　was　the　reason　why　this　terrible　and　gloomy　picture　was　forcing　itself　into　his　mind。　With　a　great　effort　of　will　he　brushed　aside　these　pictures　and　excitements；　but　as　soon　as　he　was　alone　and　not　very　drunk；　he　was　again　seized　by　his　delirium　and　again　grew　faint　under　its　weight。　And　his　thirst　for　freedom　was　growing　more　and　more　intense；　torturing　him　by　its　force。　But　tear　himself　away　from　the　shackles　of　his　wealth　he　could　not。　Mayakin；　who　had　Foma's　full　power　of　attorney　to　manage　his　affairs；　acted　now　in　such　a　way　that　Foma　was　bound　to　feel　almost　every　day　the　burden　of　the　obligations　which　rested　upon　him。　People　were　constantly　applying　to　him　for　payments；　proposing　to　him　terms　for　the　transportation　of　freight。　His　employees　overwhelmed　him　in　person　and　by　letter　with　trifles　with　which　he　had　never　before　concerned　himself；　as　they　used　to　settle　these　trifles　at　their　own　risk。　They　looked　for　him　and　found　him　in　the　taverns；　questioned　him　as　to　what　and　how　it　should　be　done；　he　would　tell　them　sometimes　without　at　all　understanding　in　what　way　this　or　that　should　be　done。　He　noticed　their　concealed　contempt　for　him；　and　almost　always　saw　that　they　did　not　do　the　work　as　he　had　ordered；　but　did　it　in　a　different　and　better　way。　In　this　he　felt　the　clever　hand　of　his　godfather；　and　understood　that　the　old　man　was　thus　pressing　him　in　order　to　turn　him　to　his　way。　And　at　the　same　time　he　noticed　that　he　was　not　the　master　of　his　business；　but　only　a　component　part　of　it；　and　an　insignificant　part　at　that。　This　irritated　him　and　moved　him　farther　away　from　the　old　man；　it　augumented　his　longing　to　tear　himself　away　from　his　business；　even　at　the　cost　of　his　own　ruin。　Infuriated；　he　flung　money　about　the　taverns　and　dives；　but　this　did　not　last　long。　Yakov　Tarasovich　closed　his　accounts　in　the　banks；　withdrawing　all　deposits。　Soon　Foma　began　to　feel　that　even　on　promissory　notes；　they　now　gave　him　the　money　not　quite　as　willingly　as　before。　This　stung　his　vanity；　and　his　indignation　was　roused；　and　he　was　frightened　when　he　learned　that　his　godfather　had　circulated　a　rumour　in　the　business　world　that　he；　Foma；　was　out　of　his　mind；　and　that；　perhaps；　it　might　become　necessary　to　appoint　a　guardian　for　him。　Foma　did　not　know　the　limits　of　his　godfather's　power；　and　did　not　venture　to　take　anyone's　counsel　in　this　matter。　He　was　convinced　that　in　the　business　world　the　old　man　was　a　power；　and　that　he　could　do　anything　he　pleased。　At　first　it　was　painful　for　him　to　feel　Mayakin's　hand　over　him；　but　later　he　became　reconciled　to　this；　renounced　everything；　and　resumed　his　restless；　drunken　life；　wherein　there　was　only　one　consolationthe　people。　With　each　succeeding　day　he　became　more　and　more　convinced　that　they　were　more　irrational　and　altogether　worse　than　hethat　they　were　not　the　masters　of　life；　but　its　slaves；　and　that　it　was　turning　them　around；　bending　and　breaking　them　at　its　will；　while　they　succumbed　to　it　unfeelingly　and　resignedly；　and　none　of　them　but　he　desired　freedom。　But　he　wanted　it；　and　therefore　proudly　elevated　himself　above　his　drinking　companions；　not　desiring　to　see　in　them　anything　but　wrong。

One　day　in　a　tavern　a　certain　half…intoxicated　man　complained　to　him　of　his　life。　This　was　a　small…sized；　meagre　man；　with　dim；　frightened　eyes；　unshaven；　in　a　short　frock　coat；　and　with　a　bright　necktie。　He　blinked　pitifully；　his　ears　quivered　spasmodically；　and　his　soft　little　voice　also　trembled。

〃I've　struggled　hard　to　make　my　way　among　men；　I've　tried　everything；　I've　worked　like　a　bull。　But　life　jostled　me　aside；　crushed　me　under　foot；　gave　me　no　chance。　All　my　patience　gave　way。　Eh！　and　so　I've　taken　to　drink。　I　feel　that　I'll　be　ruined。　Well；　that's　the　only　way　open　to　me！〃

〃Fool！〃　said　Foma　with　contempt。　〃Why　did　you　want　to　make　your　way　among　men？　You　should　have　kept　away　from　them；　to　the　right。　Standing　aside；　you　might　have　seen　where　your　place　was　among　them；　and　then　gone　right　to　the　point！〃

〃I　don't　understand　your　words。〃　The　little　man　shook　his　close…　cropped；　angular　head。

Foma　laughed；　self…satisfied。

〃Is　it　for　you　to　understand　it？〃〃No；　do　you　know；　I　think　that　he　whom　God　decreed〃

〃Not　God；　but　man　arranges　life！〃　Foma　blurted　out；　and　was　even　himself　astonished　at　the　audacity　of　his　words。　And　the　little　man　glancing　at　him　askance　also　shrank　timidly。

〃Has　God　given　you　reason？〃　asked　Foma；　recovering　from　his　embarrassment。

〃Of　course；　that　is　to　say；　as　much　as　is　the　share　of　a　small　man；〃　said　Foma's　interlocutor　irresolutely。

〃Well；　and　you　have　no　right　to　ask　of　Him　a　single　grain　more！　Make　your　own　life　by　your　own　reason。　And　God　will　judge　you。　We　are　all　in　His　service。　And　in　His　eyes　we　are　all　of　equal　value。　Understand？〃

It　happened　very　often　that　Foma　would　suddenly　say　something　which　seemed　audacious　even　to　himself；　and　which；　at　the　same　time；　elevated　him　in　his　own　eyes。　There　were　certain　unexpected；　daring　thoughts　and　words；　which　suddenly　flashed　like　sparks；　as　though　an　impression　produced　them　from　Foma's　brains。　And　he　noticed　more　than　once　that　whatever　he　had　carefully　thought　out　beforehand　was　expressed　by　him　not　quite　so　well；　and　more　obscure；　than　that　which　suddenly　flashed　up　in　his　heart。

Foma　lived　as　though　walking　in　a　swamp；　in　danger　of　sinking　at　each　step　in　the　mire　and　slime；　while　his　godfather；　like　a　river　loach；　wriggled　himself　on　a　dry；　firm　little　spot；　vigilantly　watching　the　life　of　his　godson　from　afar。

After　his　quarrel　with　Foma；　Yakov　Tarasovich　returned　home；　gloomy　and　pensive。　His　eyes　flashed　drily；　and　he　straightened　himself　like　a　tightly…stretched　string。　His　wrinkles　shrank　painfully；　his　face　seemed　to　have　become　smaller　and　darker；　and　when　Lubov　saw　him　in　this　state　it　appeared　to　her　that　he　was　seriously　ill；　but　that　he　was　forcing　and　restraining　himself。　Mutely　and　nervously　the　old　man　flung　himself　about　the　room；　casting　in　reply　to　his　daughter's　questions；　dry　curt　words；　and　finally　shouted　to　her：

〃Leave　me　alone！　You　see　it　has