the man who was afraid-第51部分

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　charitable　institutions。〃　Together　with　Foma　he　strolled　about　the　clubs；　hotels　and　taverns　till　late　at　night；　drawing　material　everywhere　for　his　articles；　which　he　called　〃brushes　for　the　cleansing　of　the　conscience　of　society。〃　The　censor　he　styled　as　superintendent　of　the　diffusion　of　truth　and　righteousness　in　life；〃　the　newspaper　he　called　〃the　go…between；　engaged　in　introducing　the　reader　to　dangerous　ideas；〃　and　his　own　work；　〃the　sale　of　a　soul　in　retail；〃　and　〃an　inclination　to　audacity　against　holy　institutions。〃

Foma　could　hardly　make　out　when　Yozhov　jested　and　when　he　was　in　earnest。　He　spoke　of　everything　enthusiastically　and　passionately；　he　condemned　everything　harshly；　and　Foma　liked　it。　But　often；　beginning　to　argue　enthusiastically；　he　refuted　and　contradicted　himself　with　equal　enthusiasm　or　wound　up　his　speech　with　some　ridiculous　turn。　Then　it　appeared　to　Foma　that　that　man　loved　nothing；　that　nothing　was　firmly　rooted　within　him；　that　nothing　guided　him。　Only　when　speaking　of　himself　he　talked　in　a　rather　peculiar　voice；　and　the　more　impassioned　he　was　in　speaking　of　himself；　the　more　merciless　and　enraged　was　he　in　reviling　everything　and　everybody。　And　his　relation　toward　Foma　was　dual；　sometimes　he　gave　him　courage　and　spoke　to　him　hotly；　quivering　in　every　limb。

〃Go　ahead！　Refute　and　overthrow　everything　you　can！　Push　forward　with　all　your　might。　There　is　nothing　more　valuable　than　man；　know　this！　Cry　at　the　top　of　your　voice：　'Freedom！　Freedom！〃

But　when　Foma；　warmed　up　by　the　glowing　sparks　of　these　words；　began　to　dream　of　how　he　should　start　to　refute　and　overthrow　people　who；　for　the　sake　of　personal　profit；　do　not　want　to　broaden　life；　Yozhov　would　often　cut　him　short：

〃Drop　it！　You　cannot　do　anything！　People　like　you　are　not　needed。　Your　time；　the　time　of　the　strong　but　not　clever；　is　past；　my　dear！　You　are　too　late！　There　is　no　place　for　you　in　life。〃

〃No？　You　are　lying！〃　cried　Foma；　irritated　by　contradiction。

〃Well；　what　can　you　accomplish？〃

〃I？〃

〃You！〃

〃Why；　I　can　kill　you！〃　said　Foma；　angrily；　clenching　his　fist。

〃Eh；　you　scarecrow！〃　said　Yozhov；　convincingly　and　pitifully；　with　a　shrug　of　the　shoulder。　〃Is　there　anything　in　that？　Why；　I　am　anyway　half　dead　already　from　my　wounds。〃

And　suddenly　inflamed　with　melancholy　malice；　he　stretched　himself　and　said：

〃My　fate　has　wronged　me。　Why　have　I　lowered　myself；　accepting　the　sops　of　the　public？　Why　have　I　worked　like　a　machine　for　twelve　years　in　succession　in　order　to　study？　Why　have　I　swallowed　for　twelve　long　years　in　the　Gymnasium　and　the　University　the　dry　and　tedious　trash　and　the　contradictory　nonsense　which　is　absolutely　useless　to　me？　In　order　to　become　feuilleton…writer；　to　play　the　clown　from　day　to　day；　entertaining　the　public　and　convincing　myself　that　that　is　necessary　and　useful　to　them。　Where　is　the　powder　of　my　youth？　I　have　fired　off　all　the　charge　of　my　soul　at　three　copecks　a　shot。　What　faith　have　I　acquired　for　myself？　Only　faith　in　the　fact　that　everything　in　this　life　is　worthless；　that　everything　must　be　broken；　destroyed。　What　do　I　love？　Myself。　And　I　feel　that　the　object　of　my　love　does　not　deserve　my　love。　What　can　I　accomplish？〃

He　almost　wept；　and　kept　on　scratching　his　breast　and　his　neck　with　his　thin；　feeble　hands。

But　sometimes　he　was　seized　with　a　flow　of　courage；　and　then　he　spoke　in　a　different　spirit：

〃I？　Oh；　no；　my　song　is　not　yet　sung　to　the　end！　My　breast　has　imbibed　something；　and　I'll　hiss　like　a　whip！　Wait；　I'll　drop　the　newspaper；　I'll　start　to　do　serious　work；　and　write　one　small　book；　which　I　will　entitle　'The　Passing　of　the　Soul'；　there　is　a　prayer　by　that　name；　it　is　read　for　the　dying。　And　before　its　death　this　society；　cursed　by　the　anathema　of　inward　impotence；　will　receive　my　book　like　incense。〃

Listening　to　each　and　every　word　of　his；　watching　him　and　comparing　his　remarks；　Foma　saw　that　Yozhov　was　just　as　weak　as　he　was；　that　he；　too；　had　lost　his　way。　But　Yozhov's　mood　still　infected　Foma；　his　speeches　enriched　Foma's　vocabulary；　and　sometimes　he　noticed　with　joyous　delight　how　cleverly　and　forcibly　he　had　himself　expressed　this　or　that　idea。　He　often　met　in　Yozhov's　house　certain　peculiar　people；　who；　it　seemed　to　him；　knew　everything；　understood　everything；　contradicted　everything；　and　saw　deceit　and　falsehood　in　everything。　He　watched　them　in　silence；　listened　to　their　words；　their　audacity　pleased　him；　but　he　was　embarrassed　and　repelled　by　their　condescending　and　haughty　bearing　toward　him。　And　then　he　clearly　saw　that　in　Yozhov's　room　they　were　all　cleverer　and　better　than　they　were　in　the　street　and　in　the　hotels。　They　held　peculiar　conversations；　words　and　gestures　for　use　in　the　room；　and　all　this　was　changed　outside　the　room；　into　the　most　commonplace　and　human。　Sometimes；　in　the　room；　they　all　blazed　up　like　a　huge　woodpile；　and　Yozhov　was　the　brightest　firebrand　among　them；　but　the　light　of　this　bonfire　illuminated　but　faintly　the　obscurity　of　Foma　Gordyeeff's　soul。

One　day　Yozhov　said　to　him：

〃Today　we　will　carouse！　Our　compositors　have　formed　a　union；　and　they　are　going　to　take　all　the　work　from　the　publisher　on　a　contract。　There　will　be　some　drinking　on　this　account；　and　I　am　invited。　It　was　I　who　advised　them　to　do　it。　Let　us　go？　You　will　give　them　a　good　treat。〃

〃Very　well！〃　said　Foma；　to　whom　it　was　immaterial　with　whom　he　passed　the　time；　which　was　a　burden　to　him。

In　the　evening　of　that　day　Foma　and　Yozhov　sat　in　the　company　of　rough…faced　people；　on　the　outskirts　of　a　grove；　outside　the　town。　There　were　twelve　compositors　there；　neatly　dressed；　they　treated　Yozhov　simply；　as　a　comrade；　and　this　somewhat　surprised　and　embarrassed　Foma；　in　whose　eyes　Yozhov　was　after　all　something　of　a　master　or　superior　to　them；　while　they　were　really　only　his　servants。　They　did　not　seem　to　notice　Gordyeeff；　although；　when　Yozhov　introduced　Foma　to　them；　they　shook　hands　with　him　and　said　that　they　were　glad　to　see　him。　He　lay　down　under　a　hazel…bush；　and　watched　them　all；　feeling　himself　a　stranger　in　this　company；　and　noticing　that　even　Yozhov　seemed　to　have　got　away　from　him　deliberately；　and　was　paying　but　little　attention　to　him。　He　perceived　something　strange　about　Yozhov；　the　little　feuilleton…writer　seemed　to　imitate　the　tone　and　the　speech　of　the　compositors。　He　bustled　about　with　them　at　the　woodpile；　uncorked　bottles　of　beer；　cursed；　laughed　loudly　and　tried　his　best　to　resemble　them。　He　was　even　dressed　more　simply　than　usual。

〃Eh；　brethren！〃　he　exclaimed；　with　enthusiasm。　〃I　feel　well　with　you！　I'm　not　a　big　bird；　either。　I　am　only　the　son　of　the　courthouse　guard；　and　noncommissioned　officer；　Matvey　Yozhov！〃

〃Why　does　he　say　that？〃　thought　Foma。　〃What　difference　does　it　make　whose　son　a　man　is？　A　man　is　not　respected　on　account　of　his　father；　but　for　his　brains。〃

The　sun　was　setting　like　a　huge　bonfire　in　the　sky；　tinting　the　clouds　with　hues　of　gold　and　of　blood。　Dampness　and　silence　were　breathed　from　the　forest；　while　at　its　outskirts　dark　human　figures　bustled　about　noisily。　One　of　them；　short　and　lean；　in　a　broad…brimmed　straw　hat；　played　the　accordion；　another　one；　with　dark　moustache　and　with　his　cap　on　the　back　of　his　head；　sang　an　accompaniment　softly。　Two　others　tugged　at　a　stick；　testing　their　strength。　Several　busied　themselves　with　the　basket　containing　beer　and　provisions；　a　tall　man　with　a　grayish　beard　threw　branches　on　the　fire；　which　was　enveloped　in　thick；　whitish　smoke。　The　damp　branches；　falling　on　the　fire；　crackled　and　rustled　plaintively；　and　the　accordion　teasingly　played　a　lively　tune；　while　the　falsetto　of　the　singer　reinforced　and　completed　its　loud　tones。

Apart　from　them　all；　on　the　brink　of　a　small　ravine；　lay　three　young　fellows；　and　before　them　stood　Yozhov；　who　spoke　in　a　ringing　voice：

〃You　bear　the　sacred　banner　of　labour。　And　I；　like　yourselves；　am　a　private　soldier　in　the　same　army。　We　all　serve　Her　Majesty；　the　Press。　And　we　must　live　in　firm；　solid　friendship。〃

〃That's　true；　Nikolay　Matveyich！〃　some　one's　thick　voice　interrupted　him。　〃And　we　want　to　ask　you　to　use　your　influence　with　the　publisher！　Use　your　influence　with　him！　Illness　and　drunkenness　cannot　be　treated　as　one　and　the　same　thing。　And；　according　to　his　system；　it　comes　out　thus；　if　one　of　us　gets　drunk　he　is　fined　to　the　amount　of　his　day's　earnings；　if　he　takes　sick　the　same　is　done。　We　ought　to　be　permitted　to　present　the　doctor's　certificate；　in　case　of　sickness；　to　make　it　certain；　and　he；　to　be　just；　ought　to　pay　the　substitute　at　least　half　the　wages　of　the　sick　man。　Otherwise；　it　is　hard　for　us。　What　if　three　of　us　should　suddenly　be　taken　sick　at　once？〃

〃Yes；　that　is　certainly　reasonable；〃　assented　Yozhov。　〃But；　my　friends；　the　principle　of　cooperation〃

Foma　ceased　listening　to　the　speech　of　his　friend；　for　his　attention　was　diverted　by　the　conversation　of　others。　Two　men　were　talking；　one　was　a　tall　consumptive；　poorly　dressed　and　angry…looking　man；　the　other　a　fair…haired　and　fair…bearded　young　man。

〃In　my　opinion；〃　said　the　tall　man　sternly；　and　coughing；　〃it　is　foolish！　How　can　men　like　us　marry？　There　will　be　children。　Do　we　have　enough　to　support　them？　The　wife　must　be　clothedand　then　you　can't　tell　what　sort　of　a　woman　you　may　strike。〃

〃She's　a　fine　girl；〃　said　the　fair…haired　man；　softly。　〃Well；　it's　now　that　she　is　fine。　A　betrothed　girl　is　one　thing；　a　wife　quite　another。　But　that　isn't　the　main　point。　You　can　try　perhaps　she　will　really　be　good。　But　then　you'll　be　short　of　means。　You　will　kill　yourself　with　work；　and　you　will　ruin　her；　too。　Marriage　is　an　impossible　thing　for　us。　Do　you　mean　to　say　that　we　can　support　a　family　on　such　earnings？　Here；　you　see；　I　have　only　been　married　four　years；　and　my　end　is　near。　I　have　seen　no　joynothing　but　worry　and　care。〃

He　began　to　cough；　coughed　for　a　long　time；　with　a　groan；　and　when　he　had　ceased；　he　said　to　his　comrade　in　a　choking　voice：

〃Drop　it；　nothing　will　come　of　it！〃

His　interlocutor　bent　his　head　mournfully；　while　Foma　thought：

〃He　speaks　sensibly。　It's　evident　he　can　reason　well。〃

The　lack　of　attention　shown　to　Foma　somewhat　offended　him　and　aroused　in　him　at　the　same　time　a　feeling　of　respect　for　these　men