“What is it? “Nekhlyudov asked absent-mindedly, still agitated by her recital.
“He is a young man yet. You can’t expect much work from me; to-day I am alive, to-morrow dead. How can he be without a wife? He will not be a peasant, if he is not married. Have pity on us, father.”
“That is, you want to marry him off? Well?”
“Do us this favour before God! You are our father and mother.”
She gave her son a sign, and both dropped on the ground before their master’s feet.
“Why do you make these earth obeisances? “said Nekhlyudov, angrily raising her by her shoulder. “Can’t you tell it without doing so? You know that I do not like it. Marry off your son, if you wish. I should be glad to hear that you have a bride in view.”
The old woman rose, and began to wipe off her dry eyes with her sleeve. Davydka followed her example, and, having wiped his eyes with his dry fist, continued to stand in the same patient and subservient attitude as before, and to listen to what Arina was saying.
“There is a bride, why not? Mikhey’s Vasyiitka is a likely enough girl, but she will not marry him without your will.”
“Does she not consent?”
“No, benefactor, not if it comes to consenting.”
“Well, then what is to be done? I cannot compel her; look for another girl, if not here, elsewhere; I will buy her out, as long as she will give her own consent, but you can’t marry by force. There is no law for that, and it would be a great sin.”
“benefactor! But is it likely that any girl would be willing to marry him, seeing our manner of life and poverty? Even a soldier’s wife would not wish to take upon herself such misery. What peasant will be willing to give his daughter to us? The most desperate man will not give his. We are mendicants, and nothing else. They will say that we have starved one woman, and would do so with their daughter. Who will give his? “she added, skeptically shaking her head. “Consider this, your Grace.”
« But what can I do?”
“Think of some plan for us, father!” Arina repeated, persuasively. “What are we to do?”
“What plan can I find? I can do nothing for you in this matter.”
“Who will do something for us, if not you? “said Arina, dropping her head, and waving her hands with an expression of sad perplexity.
“You have asked for grain, and I will order it to be given to you,” said the master, after a short silence, during which Arina drew deep breaths and Davydka seconded her. « That is all I can do.”
Nekhlyudov stepped into the vestibule. The woman and her son followed the master, bowing.
XII
“O MY ORPHANHOOD! “said Arina, drawing a deep breath.
She stopped, and angrily looked at her son. Davydka immediately wheeled around and, with difficulty lifting his fat leg, in an immense dirty bast shoe, over the threshold, was lost in the opposite door.
“What am I going to do with him, father? “continued Arina, turning to the master. “You see yourself what he is! He is not a bad peasant : he does not drink, is peace-ful, and would not harm a child, — it would be a sin to say otherwise; there is nothing bad about him, and God only knows what it is that has befallen him that he has become his own enemy. He himself is not satisfied with it. Really, father, it makes my heart bleed when I see how he worries about it himself. Such as he is, my womb has borne him; I am sorry, very sorry for him! He would do no harm to me, or his father, or the authorities; he is a timid man, I might say, like a child. How can he remain a widower? Do something for us, benefactor,” she repeated, evidently trying to correct the bad impression which her scolding might have produced on the master. “Your Grace,” she continued, in a confidential whisper, “I have reasoned this way and that way, but I can’t make out what has made him so. It cannot be otherwise but that evil people have bewitched him.”
She was silent for a moment.
“If the man could be found, he might be cured.”
“What nonsense you are talking, Arina! How can one bewitch?”
“Father, they can bewitch so as to make one a no-man for all his life! There are many evil people in the world! Out of malice they take out a handful of earth in one’s track — or something else — and one is a no-man for ever. It is easy to sin! I have been thinking of going to see old man Dundiik, who lives at Vorobevka: he knows all kinds of incantations, and he knows herbs, and he takes away the evil eye, and draws the dropsy out of the spine. Maybe he will help! “said the woman. “Maybe he will cure him!”
“Now that is wretchedness and ignorance! “thought the young master, sorrowfully bending his head, and walking with long strides down the village. “What shall I do with him? It is impossible to leave him in this state, on my account, and as an example for others, and for his own sake,” he said to himself, counting out the causes on his fingers. “I cannot see him in this condition, but how am I to take him out of it? He destroys all my best plans for the estate. If such peasants are left in it, my dreams will never be fulfilled,” he thought, experiencing mortification and anger against the peasant for destroying his plans. “Shall I send him as a settler to Siberia, as Yakov says, when he does not want to be well off, or into the army? That’s it. I shall at least be rid of him, and shall thus save a good peasant,” he reflected.
He thought of it with delight; at the same time a certain indistinct consciousness told him that he was thinking with one side of his reason only, and something was wrong. He stopped. “Wait, what am I thinking about? “he said to himself; “yes, into the army, to Siberia. Tor what? He is a good man, better than many others, and how do I know — Give him his liberty? “he reflected, considering the question not with one side of his reason only, as before, “It is unjust, and impossible.” Suddenly a thought came to him that gave him great pleasure; he smiled, with the expression of a man who has solved a difficult problem. “I will take him to the manor,” he said to himself. “I will watch over him myself, and with gentleness and persuasion, and proper selection of occupations, accustom him to work, and reform him.”
XIII
“I WILL DO so,” Nekhlyiidov said to himself with cheerful self-satisfaction, and, recalling that he had to visit yet the rich peasant, Dutlov, he directed his steps to a tall and spacious building, with two chimneys, which stood in the middle of the village. As he was getting near it, he met, near the neighbouring hut, a tall, slatternly woman, of some forty years of age, who came out to see him.
“A pleasant holiday, sir,” the woman said, without the least timidity, stopping near him, smiling pleasantly, and bowing.
“Good morning, nurse,” he answered. “How are you getting on? I am going to see your neighbour.”
“Yes, your Grace, that is good. But why do you not deign to call on us? My old man would be ever so happy to see you.”
“Well, I will come in, to talk with you, nurse. Is this your hut?”
“Yes, sir.”
And the nurse ran ahead. Nekhlyudov walked after her into the vestibule, sat down on a pail, took out a cigarette, and lighted it.
“It is hot there; let us stay here and talk,” he answered to the nurse’s invitation to walk into the hut.
The nurse was still in her prime, and a fine-looking woman. In her features, and especially in her large black eyes, there was a great resemblance to the master’s face. She put her hands under her apron, and, boldly looking at the master aud continually shaking her head, began to speak with him :
“What is the reason, sir, you are honouring Dutlov with a visit?”
“I want him to rent from me thirty desyatinas ^ of land, and start a farm of his own, and also to buy some tim-ber with me. He has money, — why should it he idle? What do you think about that, nurse?”
“Well! Of course, sir, the Dutlovs are powerful people. I suppose he is the first peasant in the whole estate,” answered the nurse, nodding her head. “Last year he added a new structure out of his own timber, — he did not trouble the master. Of horses, there will be some six sets of three, outside of colts and yearlings; and of stock, there are so many cows and sheep that when they drive them home from the field, and the women go out to drive them into the yard, there is a terrible crush at the gate; and of bees, there must be two hundred hives, and maybe more. He is a powerful peasant, he must have money, too.”
“Do you think he has much money? “the master asked.
“People say, of course, out of malice, that the man has a great deal; naturally, he would not tell, nor would he let his sons know, but he must have. Why should he not put his money out for a forest?
