the witch and other stories-第6部分

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〃Nonsense！〃

〃I　have！〃

〃It's　a　sin！〃　whispered　Sofya。

〃Well；　let　it　be。　。　。　。　What　do　I　care？　If　it's　a　sin；　then　it　is
a　sin；　but　better　be　struck　dead　by　thunder　than　live　like　this。
I'm　young　and　strong；　and　I've　a　filthy　crooked　hunchback　for　a
husband；　worse　than　Dyudya　himself；　curse　him！　When　I　was　a　girl；
I　hadn't　bread　to　eat；　or　a　shoe　to　my　foot；　and　to　get　away　from
that　wretchedness　I　was　tempted　by　Alyoshka's　money；　and　got
caught　like　a　fish　in　a　net；　and　I'd　rather　have　a　viper　for　my
bedfellow　than　that　scurvy　Alyoshka。　And　what's　your　life？　It
makes　me　sick　to　look　at　it。　Your　Fyodor　sent　you　packing　from
the　factory　and　he's　taken　up　with　another　woman。　They　have
robbed　you　of　your　boy　and　made　a　slave　of　him。　You　work　like　a
horse；　and　never　hear　a　kind　word。　I'd　rather　pine　all　my　days　an
old　maid；　I'd　rather　get　half　a　rouble　from　the　priest's　son；　I'd
rather　beg　my　bread；　or　throw　myself　into　the　well。　。　。

〃It's　a　sin！〃　whispered　Sofya　again。

〃Well；　let　it　be。〃

Somewhere　behind　the　church　the　same　three　voices；　two　tenors　and
a　bass；　began　singing　again　a　mournful　song。　And　again　the　words
could　not　be　distinguished。

〃They　are　not　early　to　bed；〃　Varvara　said；　laughing。

And　she　began　telling　in　a　whisper　of　her　midnight　walks　with　the
priest's　son；　and　of　the　stories　he　had　told　her；　and　of　his
comrades；　and　of　the　fun　she　had　with　the　travellers　who　stayed
in　the　house。　The　mournful　song　stirred　a　longing　for　life　and
freedom。　Sofya　began　to　laugh；　she　thought　it　sinful　and　terrible
and　sweet　to　hear　about；　and　she　felt　envious　and　sorry　that　she；
too；　had　not　been　a　sinner　when　she　was　young　and　pretty。

In　the　churchyard　they　heard　twelve　strokes　beaten　on　the
watchman's　board。

〃It's　time　we　were　asleep；〃　said　Sofya；　getting　up；　〃or；　maybe；
we　shall　catch　it　from　Dyudya。〃

They　both　went　softly　into　the　yard。

〃I　went　away　without　hearing　what　he　was　telling　about　Mashenka；〃
said　Varvara；　making　herself　a　bed　under　the　window。

〃She　died　in　prison；　he　said。　She　poisoned　her　husband。〃

Varvara　lay　down　beside　Sofya　a　while；　and　said　softly：

〃I'd　make　away　with　my　Alyoshka　and　never　regret　it。〃

〃You　talk　nonsense；　God　forgive　you。〃

When　Sofya　was　just　dropping　asleep；　Varvara；　coming　close；
whispered　in　her　ear：

〃Let　us　get　rid　of　Dyudya　and　Alyoshka！〃

Sofya　started　and　said　nothing。　Then　she　opened　her　eyes　and
gazed　a　long　while　steadily　at　the　sky。

〃People　would　find　out；〃　she　said。

〃No；　they　wouldn't。　Dyudya's　an　old　man；　it's　time　he　did　die；
and　they'd　say　Alyoshka　died　of　drink。〃

〃I'm　afraid　。　。　。　God　would　chastise　us。〃

〃Well；　let　Him。　。　。　。〃

Both　lay　awake　thinking　in　silence。

〃It's　cold；〃　said　Sofya；　beginning　to　shiver　all　over。　〃It　will
soon　be　morning。　。　。　。　Are　you　asleep？〃

〃No。　。　。　。　Don't　you　mind　what　I　say；　dear；〃　whispered　Varvara；
〃I　get　so　mad　with　the　damned　brutes；　I　don't　know　what　I　do　say。
Go　to　sleep；　or　it　will　be　daylight　directly。　。　。　。　Go　to　sleep。〃

Both　were　quiet　and　soon　they　fell　asleep。

Earlier　than　all　woke　the　old　woman。　She　waked　up　Sofya　and　they
went　together　into　the　cowshed　to　milk　the　cows。　The　hunchback
Alyoshka　came　in　hopelessly　drunk　without　his　concertina；　his
breast　and　knees　had　been　in　the　dust　and　straw　　he　must　have
fallen　down　in　the　road。　Staggering；　he　went　into　the　cowshed；
and　without　undressing　he　rolled　into　a　sledge　and　began　to　snore
at　once。　When　first　the　crosses　on　the　church　and　then　the
windows　were　flashing　in　the　light　of　the　rising　sun；　and　shadows
stretched　across　the　yard　over　the　dewy　grass　from　the　trees　and
the　top　of　the　well；　Matvey　Savitch　jumped　up　and　began　hurrying
about：

〃Kuzka！　get　up！〃　he　shouted。　〃It's　time　to　put　in　the　horses！
Look　sharp！〃

The　bustle　of　morning　was　beginning。　A　young　Jewess　in　a　brown
gown　with　flounces　led　a　horse　into　the　yard　to　drink。　The　pulley
of　the　well　creaked　plaintively；　the　bucket　knocked　as　it　went
down。　。　。　。

Kuzka；　sleepy；　tired；　covered　with　dew；　sat　up　in　the　cart；
lazily　putting　on　his　little　overcoat；　and　listening　to　the　drip
of　the　water　from　the　bucket　into　the　well　as　he　shivered　with
the　cold。

〃Auntie！〃　shouted　Matvey　Savitch　to　Sofya；　〃tell　my　lad　to　hurry
up　and　to　harness　the　horses！〃

And　Dyudya　at　the　same　instant　shouted　from　the　window：

〃Sofya；　take　a　farthing　from　the　Jewess　for　the　horse's　drink！
They're　always　in　here；　the　mangy　creatures！

In　the　street　sheep　were　running　up　and　down；　baaing；　the　peasant
women　were　shouting　at　the　shepherd；　while　he　played　his　pipes；
cracked　his　whip；　or　answered　them　in　a　thick　sleepy　bass。　Three
sheep　strayed　into　the　yard；　and　not　finding　the　gate　again；
pushed　at　the　fence。

Varvara　was　waked　by　the　noise；　and　bundling　her　bedding　up　in
her　arms；　she　went　into　the　house。

〃You　might　at　least　drive　the　sheep　out！〃　the　old　woman　bawled
after　her；　〃my　lady！〃

〃I　dare　say！　As　if　I　were　going　to　slave　for　you　Herods！〃
muttered　Varvara；　going　into　the　house。

Dyudya　came　out　of　the　house　with　his　accounts　in　his　hands；　sat
down　on　the　step；　and　began　reckoning　how　much　the　traveller　owed
him　for　the　night's　lodging；　oats；　and　watering　his　horses。

〃You　charge　pretty　heavily　for　the　oats；　my　good　man；〃　said
Matvey　Savitch。

〃If　it's　too　much；　don't　take　them。　There's　no　compulsion；
merchant。〃

When　the　travellers　were　ready　to　start；　they　were　detained　for　a
minute。　Kuzka　had　lost　his　cap。

〃Little　swine；　where　did　you　put　it？〃　Matvey　Savitch　roared
angrily。　〃Where　is　it？〃

Kuzka's　face　was　working　with　terror；　he　ran　up　and　down　near　the
cart；　and　not　finding　it　there；　ran　to　the　gate　and　then　to　the
shed。　The　old　woman　and　Sofya　helped　him　look。

〃I'll　pull　your　ears　off！〃　yelled　Matvey　Savitch。　〃Dirty　brat！〃

The　cap　was　found　at　the　bottom　of　the　cart。

Kuzka　brushed　the　hay　off　it　with　his　sleeve；　put　it　on；　and
timidly　he　crawled　into　the　cart；　still　with　an　expression　of
terror　on　his　face　as　though　he　were　afraid　of　a　blow　from
behind。

Matvey　Savitch　crossed　himself。　The　driver　gave　a　tug　at　the
reins　and　the　cart　rolled　out　of　the　yard。


THE　POST

IT　was　three　o'clock　in　the　night。　The　postman；　ready　to　set　off；
in　his　cap　and　his　coat；　with　a　rusty　sword　in　his　hand；　was
standing　near　the　door；　waiting　for　the　driver　to　finish　putting
the　mail　bags　into　the　cart　which　had　just　been　brought　round
with　three　horses。　The　sleepy　postmaster　sat　at　his　table；　which
was　like　a　counter；　he　was　filling　up　a　form　and　saying：

〃My　nephew；　the　student；　wants　to　go　to　the　station　at　once。　So
look　here；　Ignatyev；　let　him　get　into　the　mail　cart　and　take　him
with　you　to　the　station：　though　it　is　against　the　regulations　to
take　people　with　the　mail；　what's　one　to　do？　It's　better　for　him
to　drive　with　you　free　than　for　me　to　hire　horses　for　him。〃

〃Ready！〃　they　heard　a　shout　from　the　yard。

〃Well；　go　then；　and　God　be　with　you；〃　said　the　postmaster。　〃Which
driver　is　going？〃

〃Semyon　Glazov。〃

〃Come；　sign　the　receipt。〃

The　postman　signed　the　receipt　and　went　out。　At　the　entrance　of
the　post…office　there　was　the　dark　outline　of　a　cart　and　three
hors　es。　The　horses　were　standing　still　except　that　one　of　the
tracehorses　kept　uneasily　shifting　from　one　leg　to　the　other　and
tossing　its　head；　making　the　bell　clang　from　time　to　time。　The
cart　with　the　mail　bags　looked　like　a　patch　of　darkness。　Two
silhouettes　were　moving　lazily　beside　it：　the　student　with　a
portmanteau　in　his　hand　and　a　driver。　The　latter　was　smoking　a
short　pipe；　the　light　of　the　pipe　moved　about　in　the　darkness；
dying　away　and　flaring　up　again；　for　an　instant　it　lighted　up　a
bit　of　a　sleeve；　then　a　shaggy　moustache　and　big　copper…red　nose；
then　stern…looking；　overhanging　eyebrows。　The　postman　pressed
down　the　mail　bags　with　his　hands；　laid　his　sword　on　them　and
jumped　into　the　cart。　The　student　clambered　irresolutely　in　after
him；　and　accidentally　touching　him　with　his　elbow；　said　timidly
and　politely：　〃I　beg　your　pardon。〃

The　pipe　went　out。　The　postmaster　came　out　of　the　post…office
just　as　he　was；　in　his　waistcoat　and　slippers；　shrinking　from　the
night　dampness　and　clearing　his　throat；　he　walked　beside　the　cart
and　said：

〃Well；　God　speed！　Give　my　love　to　your　mother；　Mihailo。　Give　my
love　to　them　all。　And　you；　Ignatyev；　mind　you　don't　forget　to
give　the　parcel　to　Bystretsov。　。　。　。　Off！〃

The　driver　took　the　reins　in　one　hand；　blew　his　nose；　and；
arranging　the　seat　under　himself；　clicked　to　the　horses。

〃Give　them　my　love；〃　the　postmaster　repeated。

The　big　bell　clanged　something　to　the　little　bells；　the　little
bells　gave　it　a　friendly　answer。　The　cart　squeaked；　moved。　The
big　bell　lamented；　the　little　bells　laughed。　Standing　up　in　his
seat　the　driver　lashed　the　restless　tracehorse　twice；　and　the
cart　rumbled　with　a　hollow　sound　along　the　dusty　road。　The　little
town　was　asleep。　Houses　and　trees　stood　black　on　each　side　of　the
broad　street；　and　not　a　light　was　to　be　seen。　Narrow　clouds
stretched　here　and　there　over　the　star…spangled　sky；　and　where
the　dawn　would　soon　be　coming　there　was　a　narrow　crescent　moon；
but　neither　the　stars；　of　which　there　were　many；　nor　the
half…moon；　which　looked　white；　lighted　up　the　night　air。　It　was
cold　and　damp；　and　there　was　a　smell　of　autumn。

The　student；　who　thought　that　politeness　required　him　to　talk
affably　to　a　man　who　had　not　refused　to　let　him　accompany　him；
began：

〃In　summer　it　would　be　light　at　this　time；　but　now　there　is　not
even　a　sign　of　the　dawn。　Summer　is　over！〃

The　student　looked　at　the　sky　and　went　on：

〃Even　from　the　sky　one　can　see　that　it　is　autumn。　Look　to　the
right。　Do　you　see　three　stars　side　by　side　in　a　straight　line？
That　is　the　constellation　of　Orion；　which；　in　our　hemisphere；
only　becomes　visible　in　September。〃

The　postman；　thrusting　his　hands　into　his　sleeves　and　retreating
up　to　his　ears　into　his　coat　collar；　did　not　stir　and　did　not
glance　at　the　sky。　Apparently　the　constellation　of　Orion　did　not
interest　him。　He　was　accustomed　to　see　the　stars；　and　probably　he
had　long　grown　weary　of　them。　The　student　paused　for　a　while　and
then　said：

〃It's　cold！