 Chapter 4 of Best Russian Short Stories This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Nullifidian? Best Russian Short Stories, edited and compiled by Thomas Seltzer. The Cloak by Nikolai Gogol, Part 2 Where the host lived, unfortunately we cannot say. Our memory begins to fail us badly. The houses and streets in St. Petersburg have become so mixed up in our head that it is very difficult to get anything out of it again in proper form. This much is certain that the official lived in the best part of the city and therefore it must have been anything but near to Akakia Kakeyevich's residence. Akakia Kakeyevich was first obliged to traverse a kind of wilderness of deserted, dimly lighted streets. But in proportion, as he approached the official's quarter of the city, the streets became more lively, more populous, and more brilliantly illuminated. Pedestrians began to appear. Consumably dressed ladies were more frequently encountered. The men had otter skin collars to their coats. Shabby sleighmen, with their wooden, railed sledges stuck over with brass-headed nails, became rarer. Whilst, on the other hand, more and more drivers in red velvet caps, lacquered sledges and bare-skinned coats began to appear, the carriages with rich hammer-cloths flew swiftly through the streets, their wheels scrunching the snow. Akakia Kakeyevich gazed upon all this as upon a novel sight. He had not been in the streets during the evening for years. He halted out of curiosity before a shop window to look at a picture representing a handsome woman who had thrown off her shoe, thereby bearing her whole foot in a very pretty way. Whilst behind the head of a man with whiskers and a handsome moustache peeped through the doorway of another room, Akakia Kakeyevich shook his head and laughed, and then went on his way. Why did he laugh? Either because he had met with the thing utterly unknown, but for which everyone cherishes nevertheless some sort of feeling, or else he thought, like many officials, well those French, what is to be said? If they'd go in for anything of that sort, why? But possibly he did not think at all. Akakia Kakeyevich at length reached the house in which the head clerk's assistant lodged. He lived in fine style. The staircase was lit by a lamp, his apartment being on the second floor. On entering the vestibule, Akakia Kakeyevich beheld a whole row of galoshes on the floor. Among them, in the center of the room, stood a samovar, humming and emitting clouds of steam. On the walls hung all sorts of coats and cloaks, among which there were even some with beaver collars or velvet facings. Beyond, the buzz of conversation was audible and became clear and loud, when the servant came out with a tray full of empty glasses, cream jugs and sugar bowls. It was evident that the officials had arrived long before and had already finished their first glass of tea. Akakia Kakeyevich, having hung up his own cloak, entered the inner room. Before him all at once appeared lights, officials, pipes and card tables, and he was bewildered by a sound of rapid conversation rising from all the tables and the noise of moving chairs. He halted very awkwardly in the middle of the room, wondering what he ought to do, but they had seen him. They received him with a shout and all thronged at once into the ante-room, and there took another look at his cloak. Akakia Kakeyevich, although somewhat confused, was frank-hearted and could not refrain from rejoicing when he saw how they praised his cloak. Then, of course, they all dropped him and his cloak and returned, as was proper to the tables set out for wist. All this, the noise, the talk, and the throng of people was rather overwhelming to Akakia Kakeyevich. He simply did not know where he stood or where to put his hands, his feet, and his whole body. Finally he sat down by the players, looked at the cards, gazed at the face of one and another, and after a while began to gape and to feel that it was wearysome, the more so as the hour was already long past when he usually went to bed. He wanted to take leave of the host, but he would not let him go, saying that he must not fail to drink a glass of champagne in honor of his new garment. In the course of an hour, supper, consisting of vegetable salad, cold veal, pastry, confectioner's pies, and champagne was served. They made Akakia Kakeyevich drink two glasses of champagne, after which he felt things grow livelier. Still he could not forget that it was twelve o'clock, and that he should have been at home long ago. In order that the host might not think of some excuse for detaining him, he stole out of the room quickly, sawed out in the ante room his cloak, which to his sorrow he found lying on the floor, brushed it, picked off every speck upon it, put it on his shoulders, and descended the stairs into the street. In the street all was still bright. Some petty shops, those permanent clubs of servants and all sorts of folks, were open. Others were shut, but nevertheless showed a streak of light the whole length of the door crack, indicating that they were not yet free of company, and that probably some domestics, male and female, were finishing their stories and conversations, whilst leaving their masters in complete ignorances to their whereabouts. Akakia Kakeyevich went on in a happy frame of mind. He even started to run without knowing why, after some lady who flew past like a flash of lightning. But he stopped short, and went on very quietly as before, wondering why he had quickened his pace. Soon there spread before him these deserted streets which were not cheerful in the daytime, to say nothing of the evening. Now they were even more dim and lonely. The lanterns began to grow rarer, oil evidently had been less liberally supplied. Then came wooden houses and fences, not a soul anywhere. Only the snow sparkled in the streets, and mournfully veiled the low-roofed cabins with their closed shutters. He approached the spot where the street crossed a vast square with houses barely visible on its farther side, a square which seemed a fearful desert. A far, a tiny spark glimmered from some watchman's box, which seemed to stand on the edge of the world. Akaki Akakevich's cheerfulness diminished at this point in a marked degree. He entered the square, not without an involuntary sensation of fear as though his heart warned him of some evil. He glanced back, and on both sides it was like a sea about him. No, it is better not to look, he thought, and went on closing his eyes. When he opened them to see whether he was near the end of the square, he suddenly beheld, standing just before his very nose, some bearded individuals of precisely what sort he could not make out. All grew dark before his eyes and his heart throbbed. Of course the cloak is mine, said one of them in a loud voice, seizing hold of his collar. Akaki Akakevich was about to shout, Help! when the second man thrust a fist about the size of an official's head at his very mouth, muttering, Just you dare to scream. Akaki Akakevich felt them strip off his cloak and give him a kick. He fell headlong upon the snow and felt no more. In a few minutes he recovered consciousness and rose to his feet, but no one was there. He felt that it was cold in the square, and that his cloak was gone. He began to shout, but his voice did not appear to reach the outskirts of the square. In despair, but without ceasing to shout, he started it a run across the square, straight towards the watchbox, beside which stood the watchman, leaning on his halberd, and apparently curious to know what kind of a customer was running towards him shouting. Akaki Akakevich ran up to him and began in a sobbing voice to shout that he was asleep and attended to nothing and did not see when a man was robbed. The watchman replied that he had seen two men stop him in the middle of the square, but suppose that they were friends of his and that, instead of scolding vainly, he had better go to the police on the morrow so that they might make a search for whoever had stolen the cloak. Akaki Akakevich ran home and arrived in a state of complete disorder, his hair which grew very thinly upon his temples and the back of his head all tussled, his body, arms, and legs covered with snow. The old woman who was mistress of his lodging, on hearing a terrible knocking, sprang hastily from her bed and, with only one shoe on, ran to open the door, pressing the sleeve of her chemise to her bosom out of modesty. But when she had opened it, she fell back on beholding Akaki Akakevich in such a condition. When he told her about the affair, she clasped her hands and said that he must go straight to the district chief of police, and his subordinate would turn up his nose, promise well, and drop the matter there. The very best thing to do, therefore, would be to go to the district chief whom she knew because Finnish Anna, her former cook, was now nurse at his house. She often saw him passing the house and he was at church every Sunday praying, but at the same time gazing cheerfully at everybody so that he must be a good man having listened to this opinion, Akaki Akakevich betook himself sadly to his room and how he spent the night there, anyone who can put himself in another's place, may readily imagine. Early in the morning, he presented himself at the district chiefs, but was told the official was asleep. He went again at ten and was again informed that he was asleep. At eleven, and they said, the superintendent is not at home. At dinner time, and the clerks in the ante room would not admit him on any terms and insisted upon knowing his business, so that it last for once in his life Akaki Akakevich felt an inclination to show some spirit and said curtly that he must see the chief in person, that they ought not to presume to refuse him entrance and that he came from the department of justice and that when he complained of them, they would see. The clerks made no reply to this and one of them went to call the chief who listened to the strange story of the theft of the coat. Instead of directing his attention to the principal points in the matter, he began to question Akaki Akakevich. Why was he going home so late? Was he in the habit of doing so? Or had he been to some disorderly house? So the Akaki Akakevich got thoroughly confused and left him without knowing whether the affair of his cloak was in proper train or not. All that day, for the first time in his life, he never went near the department. The next day he made his appearance very pale and in his old cape, which had become even more shabby. The news of the robbery of the cloak touched many, although there were some officials present who never lost an opportunity. Even such a one is the present of ridiculing Akaki Akakevich. They decided to make a collection for him on the spot, but the officials had already spent a great deal in subscribing for the director's portrait and for some book at the suggestion of the head of that division, who was a friend of the author, and so the sum was trifling. One of them, moved by pity, resolved to help Akaki Akakevich with some good advice, at least, and told him that he ought not to go to the police. For although it might happen that a police officer, wishing to win the approval of his superiors, might hunt up the cloak by some means, still his cloak would remain in the possession of the police if he did not offer legal proof that it belonged to him. The best thing for him, therefore, would be to apply to a certain prominent personage since this prominent personage, by entering into relation with the proper persons, could greatly expedite the matter. As there was nothing else to be done, Akaki Akakevich decided to go to the prominent personage. What was the exact official position of the prominent personage remains unknown to this day. The reader must know that the prominent personage had but recently become a prominent personage, having, up to that time, been only an insignificant person. Moreover, his present position was not considered prominent in comparison with others still more so. But there is always a circle of people to whom what is insignificant in the eyes of others is important enough. Moreover, he strove to increase his importance by sundry devices. For instance, he managed to have the inferior officials meet him on the staircase when he entered upon his service. No one was to presume to come directly to him, but the strictest etiquette must be observed. The collegiate recorder must make a report to the government secretary, the government secretary to the titular counselor, or whatever other man was proper, and all business must come before him in this manner. In Holy Russia, all this is contaminated with the love of imitation. Every man imitates and copies his superior. They even say that a certain titular counselor, when promoted to the head of some small separate office, immediately partitioned off a private room for himself, called at the audience chamber, and posted at the door a lackey with a red collar and braid who grasped the handle of the door and opened to all comers, though the audience chamber would hardly hold an ordinary writing table. The manners and customs of the prominent personage were grand and imposing, but rather exaggerated. The main foundation of his system was strictness. Strictness, strictness and always strictness, he generally said, and at the last word he looked significantly into the face of the person to whom he spoke. But there was no necessity for this, for the half-scorched subordinates who formed the entire force of the office were properly afraid. On catching sight of him afar off, they left their work and waited, drawn up in line, until he had passed through the room. He was very converse with his inferior smacked of sternness and consisted chiefly of three phrases. How dare you? Do you know whom you were speaking to? Do you realize who is standing before you? Otherwise he was a very kind-hearted man, good to his comrades and ready to oblige. But the rank of general threw him completely off his balance. On receiving any one of that rank, he confused, lost his way as it were, and never knew what to do. If he chanced to be amongst his equals, he was still a very nice kind of man, a very good fellow in many respects, and not stupid. But the very moment that he found himself in the society of people, but one rank lower than himself, he became silent. And his situation aroused sympathy. Or so as he felt himself that he might have been making an incomparably better use of his time. In his eyes, there was sometimes visible a desire to join some interesting conversation or group, but he was kept back by the thought, would it not be a very great condescension on his part? Would it not be familiar? And would he not thereby lose his importance? And in consequence of such reflections, he always remained in the sane, dumb state, uttering from time to time a few monosyllabic words, and thereby earning the name of the most wearisome of men. To this prominent personage, Akaki Akakeyevich presented himself, and this at the most unfavorable time for himself, though opportune for the prominent personage, the prominent personage was in his cabinet, conversing very gaily with an old acquaintance and companion of his childhood, whom he had not seen for several years, and who had just arrived, when it was announced to him that a person named Bashmachkin had come. He asked abruptly, Who is he? Some official, he was informed. Ah, he can wait. This is no time for him to call, an important man. It must be remarked here that the important man lied outrageously. He had said all he had to say to his friend long before, and the conversation had been interspersed for some time with very long pauses, during which they merely slapped each other on the leg, and said, You think so, Ivan Ibramovich? Just so, step on, Verlamovich. Nevertheless, he ordered that the official should be kept waiting in order to show his friend, a man who had not been in the service for a long time, but had lived at home in the country, how long officials had to wait in his ante-room. At length, having talked himself completely out, and more than that, having had his fill of pauses, and smoked a cigar in a very comfortable armchair with reclining back, he suddenly seemed to recollect what he said to the secretary who stood by the door with papers of reports. So it seems that there is an official waiting to see me. Tell him that he may come in. Unperceiving Akaki Akakevich's modest mean and his worn uniform, he turned abruptly to him and said, What do you want in a curt, hard voice, which he had practiced in his room in private and before the looking-glass, for a whole week before being raised to his present rank. Akaki Akakevich, who was already imbued with a due amount of fear, became somewhat confused and as well as his tongue would permit, explained, with a rather more frequent addition than usual of the word that, that his cloak was quite new and had been stolen in the most inhuman manner, that he had applied to him in order that he might in some way, by his intermediation, that he might enter into correspondence with the chief of police and find the cloak. For some inexplicable reason, this conduct seemed familiar to the prominent personage. What, my dear sir, he said abruptly, are you not acquainted with etiquette? To whom have you come? Don't you know how such matters are managed? You should first have presented a petition to the office. It would have gone to the head of the department, then to the chief of division, then it would have been handed over to the secretary and the secretary would have given it to me. But your Excellency, said Akaki Akakevich, trying to collect his small handful of wits and conscious at the same time that he was perspiring terribly, your Excellency presumed to trouble you because secretaries are an untrustworthy race. What, what, what? said the important personage. Where did you get such courage? Where did you get such ideas? What impudence towards their chiefs and superiors has spread among the young generation? The prominent personage apparently had not observed that Akaki Akakevich was already in the neighborhood of 50. If he could be called a young man, it must have been in comparison with someone who was 70. Do you not know to whom you were speaking? Do you realize who is standing before you? Do you realize it? Do you realize it? I ask you. Then he stamped his foot and raised his voice to such a pitch that it would have frightened even a different man than Akaki Akakevich. Akaki Akakevich's senses failed him. He staggered, trembled in every limb, and if the porters had not run in to support him, would have fallen to the floor. They carried him out insensible. But the prominent personage gratified that the effect should have surpassed his expectations and quite intoxicated with the thought that his word could even deprive a man of his senses, glanced sideways at his friend in order to see how he looked upon this and perceived, not without satisfaction, that his friend was in a most uneasy frame of mind and even beginning on his part to feel the trifle frightened. Akaki Akakevich could not remember how he descended the stairs and got into the street. He felt neither his hands nor feet. Never in his life had he been so rated by any high official, let alone a strange one. He went staggering on through the snowstorm, which was blowing in the streets with his mouth wide open. The wind, in St. Petersburg fashion, darted upon him from all quarters and down every cross street. In a twinkling it had blown a quincy into his throat and he reached home unable to utter a word. His throat was swollen and he lay down on his bed, so powerful as sometimes a good scolding. The next day a violent fever developed. Thanks to the generous assistance of the St. Petersburg climate, the melody progressed more rapidly than could have been expected. And when the doctor arrived, he found on feeling the sick man's pulse that there was nothing to be done except to prescribe a poultice, so that the patient might not be left entirely without the beneficent aid of medicine. But at the same time he predicted his end in 36 hours. After this he turned to the landlady and said, and as for you, don't waste your time on him. Order his pine coffin now for an oak one will be too expensive for him. Did a cocky a cockroach hear these fatal words? And if he heard them, did they produce any overwhelming effect upon him? Did he lament the bitterness of his life? We know not, for he continued in a delirious condition. Visions incessantly appeared to him, each stranger than the other. Now he saw Petrovich and ordered him to make a cloak with some traps for robbers who seemed to him to be always under the bed, and he cried every moment to the landlady to pull one of them from under his coverlet. Then he inquired by his old mantle hung before him when he had a new cloak. Next he fancied that he was standing before the prominent person, listening to a thorough setting down and saying, forgive me your excellency. But at last he began to curse, uttering the most horrible words, so that his aged landlady crossed herself, never in her life having heard anything of the kind from him, and more so as these words followed directly after the words, your excellency. Later on he talked utter nonsense, of which nothing could be made, all that was evident being that these incoherent words and thoughts hovered ever about one thing, his cloak. At length, Porokaki Akakevich breathed his last. They sealed up neither his room nor his effects, because in the first place there were no airs, and in the second, there was very little to inherit beyond a bundle of goose quills, a choir of white official paper, three pairs of socks, two or three buttons which had burst off his trousers, and the mantle already known to the reader. To whom all this fell, God knows. I confess that the person who told me this tale took no interest in the matter. They carried Akaki Akakevich out, and buried him, and St. Petersburg was left without Akaki Akakevich, as though he had never lived there, a being disappeared, who was protected by none, dear to none, interesting to none, and who never even attracted to himself the attention of those students of human nature who omit no opportunity of thrusting a pin through a common fly and examining it under the microscope, a being who bore meekly the jibes of the department and went to his grave without having done one unusual deed, but to whom, nevertheless, at the close of his life, appeared a bright visitant in the form of a cloak, which momentarily cheered his poor life, and upon him, thereafter, an intolerable misfortune descended, just as it descends upon the heads of the mighty of this world. Several days after his death, the porter was sent from the department to his lodgings with an order for him to present himself there immediately, the chief commanding it. But the porter had to return unsuccessful, with the answer that he could not come, and to the question why, replied, well, because he is dead, he was buried four days ago. In this manner did they hear Vakakia Kakevich's death at the department, and the next day a new official sat in his place with a handwriting by no means so upright, but more inclined and slanting. But who could have imagined that this was not really the end of Vakakia Kakevich, that he was destined to raise a commotion after death, as if in compensation for his utterly insignificant life? But so it happened, and our poor story unexpectedly gains a fantastic ending. A rumor suddenly spread through St. Petersburg that a dead man had taken to a peering on the Kalinken Bridge and its vicinity at night in the form of an official seeking a stolen cloak, and that under the pretext of its being the stolen cloak he dragged, without regard to rank or calling, everyone's cloak from his shoulders, be it capskin, beaver, fox, bear, sable, in a word every sort of fur and skin which men adopted for their covering. One of the department officials saw the dead man with his own eyes, and immediately recognized in him Vakakia Kakevich. This, however, inspired him with such terror that he ran off with all his might and therefore did not scan the dead man closely, but only saw how the latter threatened him from afar with his finger. Constant complaints poured in from all quarters that the backs and shoulders, not only of titular but even of court counselors, were exposed to the danger of the cold, on account of the frequent dragging off of their cloaks. Arrangements were made by the police to catch the corpse, alive or dead, at any cost, and punish him as an example to others in the most severe manner. In this they nearly succeeded, for a watchman on guard in Karinshkin Lane caught the corpse by the collar on the very scene of his evil deeds when attempting to pull off the frieze cloak of a retired musician. Having seized him by the collar, he summoned with a shout two of his comrades, whom he enjoined to hold him fast, while he himself felt for a moment in his boot in order to draw out his snuff box and refresh his frozen nose. But the snuff was of a sort which even a corpse could not endure. The watchman, having closed his right nostril with his finger, had no sooner succeeded than holding half a handful up to the left. Then the corpse sneezed so violently that he completely filled the eyes of all three. While they raised their hands to wipe them, the dead man vanished completely so that they positively did not know whether they had actually had him in their grip at all. Thereafter, the watchman conceived such a terror of dead men that they were afraid even to seize the living and only screamed from a distance, hey, there, go your way! So the dead official began to appear even beyond the Kalingan Bridge, causing no little terror to all timid people. But we have totally neglected that certain prominent personage who may really be considered as the cause of the fantastic turn taken by this true history. First of all, Justice compels us to say that after the departure of poor annihilated Akakia Kakevich, he felt something like remorse. Suffering was unpleasant to him, for his heart was accessible to many good impulses, in spite of the fact that his rank often prevented his showing his true self. As soon as his friend had left his cabinet, he began to think about poor Akakia Kakevich, and from that day forth, poor Akakia Kakevich, who could not bear up under an official reprimand, recurred to his mind almost every day. The thought troubled him to such an extent that a week later, he even resolved to send an official to him to learn whether he really could assist him. And when it was reported to him that Akakia Kakevich had died suddenly of fever, he was startled, harkened to the reproaches of his conscience, and was out of sorts for the whole day. Wishing to divert his mind in some way and drive away the disagreeable impression, he set out that evening for one of his friend's houses, where he found quite a large party assembled. What was better, nearly every one, was of the same rank as himself, so that he need not feel in the least constrained. This had a marvelous effect upon his mental state. He grew expansive, made himself agreeable in conversation. In short, he passed a delightful evening. After supper he drank a couple of glasses of champagne, not a bad recipe for cheerfulness, as everyone knows. The champagne inclined him to various adventures, and he determined not to return home, but to go and see a certain well-known lady of German extraction, Karolina Ivanovna, a lady it appears with whom he was on a very friendly footing. It must be mentioned that the prominent personage was no longer a young man, but a good husband and respected father of a family. Two sons, one of whom was already in the service and a good-looking 16-year-old daughter with a slightly arched but pretty little nose, came every morning to kiss his hand and say, Bonjour papa! His wife, a still-fresh and good-looking woman, gave him her hand to kiss, and then, reversing the procedure, kissed his. But the prominent personage, though perfectly satisfied in his domestic relations, considered it stylish to have a friend in another quarter of the city. This friend was scarcely prettier or younger than his wife, but there are such puzzles in the world, and it is not our place to judge them. So the important personage descended the stairs, stepped into his sledge, said to the coachmen to Karolina Ivanovna and, wrapping himself luxuriously in his warm cloak, found himself in that delightful frame of mind than which a Russian can conceive nothing better, namely, when you think of nothing yourself, yet when the thoughts creep into your mind of their unaccord, each more agreeable than the other, giving you no trouble either to drive them away or seek them. Fully satisfied, he recalled all the gay features of the evening just passed and all the motts which had made the little circle laugh. Many of them he repeated in a low voice and found them quite as funny as before, so it is not surprising that he should laugh heartily at them. Occasionally, however, he was interrupted by gusts of wind, which, coming suddenly, God knows whence or why, cut his face, drove masses of snow into it, filled out his cloak-collar like a sail, or suddenly blew it over his head with supernatural force, and thus caused him constant trouble to disentangle himself. Suddenly, the important personage felt someone clutch him firmly by the collar. Turning round, he perceived a man of short stature in an old, worn uniform, and recognized, not without terror, a kaki a kakevich. The official's face was white as snow and looked just like a corpse's, but the horror of the important personage transcended all bounds when he saw the dead man's mouth open and heard it utter the following remarks, while it breathed upon him the terrible odor of the grave. Ah, here you are at last. I have you that. Buy the collar. I need your cloak. You took no trouble about mine, but reprimanded me, so now give up your own. The pallid, prominent personage almost died of fright. Brave as he was in the office and in the presence of inferiors generally, and although, at the sight of his manly form and appearance, everyone said, ah, how much character he has at this crisis he, like many possessed of a heroic exterior, experienced such terror that, not without cause, he began to fear an attack of illness. He flung his cloak hastily from his shoulders and shouted to his coachman, in an unnatural voice, home at full speed. The coachman, hearing the tone, which is generally employed at critical moments and even accompanied by something much more tangible, drew his head down between his shoulders in case of an emergency, flourished his whip and flew on like an arrow. In a little more than six minutes, the prominent personage was at the entrance of his own house. Pale, thoroughly scared and cloupless, he went home instead of to Carolina Ivanovnaz, reached his room somehow or other and passed the night in the direst distress, so that the next morning over their tea, his daughter said, you are very pale today, Papa. But Papa remained silent and said not a word to anyone of what had happened to him, where he had been or where he had intended to go. This occurrence made a deep impression upon him. He even began to say, how dare you, do you realize who is standing before you, less frequently to the under officials and if he did utter the words, it was only after first having learned the bearings of the matter. But the most noteworthy point was that from that day forward, the apparition of the dead official ceased to be seen. Evidently, the prominent personage's cloak just fitted his shoulders. At all events, no more instances of his dragging cloaks from people's shoulders were heard of. But many active and solicitous persons could by no means reassure themselves and asserted that the dead official still showed himself in distant parts of the city. In fact, one watchman in Coleman saw with his own eyes the apparition come from behind a house. But the watchman was not a strong man, so he was afraid to arrest him and followed him in the dark At length, the apparition looked round, paused and inquired, what do you want, at the same time showing such a fist as is never seen on living men. The watchman said, nothing, and turned back instantly. But the apparition was much too tall, wore huge mustaches and directing its steps apparently towards the Abuqaf bridge disappeared in the darkness of the night. End of The Cloak by Nikolai Gogol, Part 2 Chapter 5 of Best Russian South Stories This is a LibriVogs Recording. All LibriVogs recordings and the public domain. For more information on the volunteer, please visit LibriVogs.org Recording by Om123 Best Russian South Stories edited and compiled by Thomas Selcher The District Doctor by Ivan Tugenev One day in autumn on my way back from a remote part of the country, I got cold and fell ill. Fortunately, the fever attacked me in the district town at the inn. I sent for the doctor. In half an hour, the district doctor appeared, a teen dark-haired man of middle height. He prescribed me the usual sudorific, ordered a mustard plaster to be put on. Very deftly slid a fibrable note off his sleeve, coughing dryly and looking away as he did so, and then was getting up to go home. But somehow fell into talk and remained. I was exhausted with feverishness. I foresaw a sleepless night and was glad of a little chat with a pleasant companion. Tea was served. My doctor began to converse freely. He was a sensible fellow and expressed himself with vigor and some humor. Queer things happen in the world. You may live a long while with some people and beyond friendly terms with them and never once pick up and live with them from your soul. With others, you have scarcely time to get acquainted and all at once you are pouring out to him or he to you all your secrets, as do you a red confession. I don't know how I gained the confidence of my new friend. Anyway, with nothing to lead up to it, he told me a rather curious incident. And here I will report this tale for the information of the indulgent reader. I'll try to tell it in the doctor's own words. It doesn't happen to know. He began in a weak and quivering voice, the common result of the use of unmixed badger of snuff. It doesn't happen to know that just here, my love Pavel Klokic. You don't know him. Well, it's all the same. He cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes. Well, you see, the thing happened to tell you exactly what mistake in Lent at the very time of the Taos. I was sitting at his house, our judges, you know, playing preference. Our judges are good fellow and fond of playing preference. Suddenly, the doctor made frequent use of these words suddenly. They tell me, there is a servant asking for you. I say, what does he want? They say he has brought a note. It must be from a patient. Give me the note, I say. So it is from a patient, well and good. You understand? It's our bread and butter. But this is how it was. A lady, a widow, writes to me. She says, my daughter is dying. Come for God's sake. She says, and the horses have been sent for you. Well, that is all right. But she was twenty miles from the town and it was midnight out of doors. And the roads in such a state, my world. And as she was poor herself, one could not expect more than two silver rubles and even that problematic. And perhaps it might only be a matter of a roll of linen and a sack of oatmeal in payment. However, duty, you know, before everything. A fellow creature may be dying. I hand over my cards at once to Kellopin, the member of the Robinsil Commission, and return home. I took a wretched little trap standing at the steps, with peasants' horses, fat, too fat, and a coat as Sege has felt. And a coachman sitting with his cap off out of respect. Well, I think to myself, it's clear, my friend, these patients are not rolling in riches. You smile. But I tell you, a woman like me has to take everything into consideration. If the coachman sits like a prince and does not touch his cap and even sneers at you behind his beard and flicks his whip, then you may bet on six rubles. But this case, I saw, had a very different air. However, I think there is no help for it. Duty before everything. I snatched up the most necessary drugs and set off. Will you believe it? I only just managed to get there at all. The road was in funnel. Streams, snow, and water courses and dyke had suddenly burst there. That was the worst of it. However, I arrived at last. It was a little tashed house. There was a light in the windows. That meant they expected me. I was met by an old lady, very venerable in a cap. Save her, she says. She is dying. I say, pray don't stress yourself. Where is the invalid? Come this way. I see a clean little room, a lamp in the corner, on the bed, a garl of twenty unconscious. She was in a burning heat and breathing heavily. It was fever. There were two other girls, her sisters, scared and in tears. Yesterday, they tell me, she was perfectly well and had a good appetite. This morning, she complained of her head. And this evening, suddenly you see, like this. I say again, pray don't be uneasy. It is a doctor's duty, you know, and I went up to her and bled her. She looked on a master plaster and prescribed a mixture. Meantime, I looked at her. I looked at her, you know, there by God. I had never seen such a face. She was a beauty, he knew what. I felt quite shaken with pity. Such lovely features, such eyes. But thank God, she became easier. She fell into a perspiration, seemed to come to her senses, looked round, smiled and passed her hand over her face. Her sisters bent over her. They asked, how are you? All right, she says, and turns away. I looked at her. She had fallen asleep. Well, I say, now the patient should be left alone. So, we all went out on tiptoe. Only a maid remained, in case she was wounded. In the parlour, there was some of her standing on the table and a bottle of rum. In our profession one can get on without it. They gave me tea. Asked me to stop the night. I concentrate. Where could I go? Indeed, at the time of night. The old lady kept groaning. What is it? I say. See, we leave. Don't worry yourself. You had better take a little rest yourself. It is about two o'clock. But will you send to awake me if anything happens? Yes, yes. The old lady went away. And the girls too went to their own room. They made up a bed for me in the parlour. Well, I went to bed. But I could not get to sleep, for a wonder. For in reality I was very tired. I could not get my patient out of my head. At last I could not put up with it any longer. I got up suddenly. I think to myself, I will go and see how the patient is getting on. Her bedroom was next to the parlour. Well, I got up and gently opened the door. How my heart beat. I looked in. The servant was asleep. Her mouth wide open and even snoring, to the wretch. But the patient lay with her face towards me and her arms sprung wide apart. Poor girl. I went up to her, when suddenly she opened her eyes and stared at me. Who is it? Who is it? I was in confusion. Don't be alarmed madam, I say. I am the doctor. I have come to see how you feel. You, the doctor. Yes, the doctor. Your mother sent for me from the town. We have bled you madam. Now pray you go to sleep. And in the day or two, please God. We will set you on your feet again. Oh yes, yes doctor. Don't let me die, please, please. What do you talk like that? God bless you. She is in a fever again. I think to myself, I felt her pulse. Yes, she was feverish. She looked at me and then took me by the hand. I'll tell you why I don't want to die. I'll tell you. Now we are alone. And only please don't hear, not to anyone. Listen. I bent down. She moved her lips quite to my ear. She touched my cheek with her hair. I confess my head went round and began to whisper. I could make out nothing of it. Ah, she was delirious. She whispered and whispered, but so quickly and as if it were not in Russian. At last she finished and sivering dropped her hair on the pillow and treated me with her finger. Remember doctor, to no one. I calmed her somehow, gave her something to drink, waked the servant and went away. At this point the doctor again took snuff with exasperated energy and for a moment seems to be fired by its effects. However, he continued. The next day he contrary to my expectations the patient was no better. I thought and thought and suddenly decided to remain there even though my other patients were expecting me. And you know one can afford to disregard that. One's practice suffers if one does. But in the first place the patient was really in danger and secondly to tell the truth I felt strongly drawn to her. Besides I liked the whole family. Though they were really badly off they were singularly I may say cultivated people. Their father had been a learned man an author. He died of course in poverty but he had managed before he died with children and excellent education. He left a lot of books too. Either because I looked after the invalid very carefully or for some other reason. Anyway I can venture to say all the house will love me as if I were one of the family. Meantime the roads were in a worse state than ever. All communications so to say were cut off completely. Even medicine could with difficulty be cut from the town. The sick girl was not getting better. Day after day and day after day. But here the doctor made a brief ball. I declare I don't know how to tell you. He again took snuff coughed and swallowed a little tea. I'll tell you without beating about the bush. My patient how should I say well she had fallen in love with me. Oh no it was that she was in love however really how should one say the doctor looked down and grew red. No he went on quickly in love indeed. A man should not have worse to admit himself. She was an educated girl clever and well read and I had even forgotten my Latin. One may say completely as to appearance the doctor looked himself with his smile. I have nothing to boast of there either. But God Almighty didn't make me fool. I don't take black for white. I know a thing or two. I could see very clearly for instance that Alexandra Andreevna that was her name did not feel love for me but had a friendly so to say inclination a respect or something for me. To see how Sylt Paris mistook this sentiment anyway this was her attitude. It may form your own judgment of it. But added the doctor who had bought out all these disconnected sentences without taking bread and with obvious embarrassment. I seem to be wondering rather you won't understand anything like this. There would you leave I'd relate it all in order. He drank off a glass of tea and began in a calmer voice. Well then my patient kept getting worse and worse. You're not a doctor my good sir. You cannot understand what passes in a poor fellow's heart especially at first when it begins to suspect that the disease is getting the upper hand of him. What becomes of his belief in himself you suddenly grow so timid it is indescribable. You fancy then that you have forgotten everything you knew and that the patient has no faith in you and that other people begin to notice how distracted you are and tell you the symptoms with reluctance that they are looking at you suspiciously whispering It's alright. You must be remained you think for this disease. If one could find it. Isn't this it? You try. No, that is not it. You don't allow the medicine the necessary time to do good. You clutch at one thing then at another. Sometimes you take up a book of medical prescriptions here it is you think. Sometimes by Jove not by chance thinking to live it to the faith. But meantime a fellow creature is dying and and a doctor would have saved him. We must have a concentration you say. I will not take the responsibility on myself and what a fool you look at such times while in time you learn to bear it. It's nothing to you. A man has died but it is not your fault. You treated him by the rules. A little more torture to you is to see blind faith in you and to feel yourself that you are not able to be of use. Well it was just this blind faith that the whole of Alexander Andreevna's family had in me. They had forgotten to think that their daughter was in danger. I too on my side assure them that it is nothing. But meantime my heart sinks into my boots. To add to our troubles the roads were in such a state that a coachman was gone for whole days together to get medicine and I never left the patient's room. I couldn't tear myself away. I tell her amusing stories you know and play cards with her. I watch by her side at night. The old mother thanks me with tears in her eyes but I think to myself I don't deserve for gratitude. I frankly confess to you there is no object in counseling it now. I was in love with my patient and Alexander Andreevna had grown fond of me. She would not sometimes let anyone be in her room but me. She began to talk to me to ask me questions where I had studied how I lived, who are my people whom I go to see. I feel that she ought not to talk but to forward her too to forward her resolutely you know I could not. Sometimes I held my head in my hands and asked myself what are you doing, Villain? Hence you take my hand and hold it, give me a long long look and turn away sigh and say how good you are our hands were so fierce our eyes so low and languid yes she says you are a good kind man you are not like our neighbours no you are not like that why did I not you till now Alexander Andreevna calm yourself I say I feel believe me I don't know how I have gained but there calm yourself all will be right you will be well again and meanwhile I must tell you continue the doctor bending forward and raising his eyebrows that they associated very little with the neighbours because the smaller people were not on their level and pride hindered them with the rich I tell you they were an exceptionally cultivated family so you know it was gratifying for me she would only take her medicine from my hands she would lift herself up poor girl with my aid take it and gaze at me my heart felt as if it were bursting and meanwhile she was growing wars and wars wars and wars all the time she will die I think to myself she must die believe me I would sooner have gone to the grave myself and here were her mother and sisters watching me looking into my eyes and her faith in me was wearing away well how you see oh all right all right all right indeed my mind was failing me while I was sitting one night alone again by my patient the maid was sitting there too snoring away in full swing I can find fault with the poor girl though she was worn out too Alexandra Andrievna had felt very unwell all the evening she was very feverish until midnight she kept tossing about at last she seemed to fall asleep at least she lay still without steering the lamp was burning in the corner before the holly image I sat there you know with my head bent I even dodged a little suddenly it seemed as though someone touched me in the side I turned around good God Alexandra Andrievna was gazing with intent eyes at me her lips pardoned her cheeks seemed to burning what is it doctor shall I die merciful heavens no doctor no I shall leave don't say so if you knew for God's sake don't console my real position and her breath comes so fast if I can know for certain that I must die then I will tell you all Alexandra Andrievna I beg listen I have not been asleep at all I have been looking at you a long while for God's sake I believe you knew you are a good man and honest man I entreat you by all that is sacred in the world tell me the truth if you knew how important it is for me doctor for God's sake tell me am I in danger what can I tell you Alexandra Andrievna pray for God's sake I beseech you I can disguise from you I say Alexandra Andrievna you were suddenly in danger but God is merciful I shall die I shall die and it seemed to me as to see were pleased her face grew so bright I was alarmed don't be afraid don't be afraid I am not frightened of that at all she suddenly set up and leaned on her elbow now yes I tell you that I thank you with my whole heart that you are kind and good that I love you I stare at her like one possessed it was telling you for me you know do here I love you Alexandra Andrievna however deserved no no you don't you don't understand me and suddenly I reached out her arms and taking my head in her hands she kissed it believe me I almost screamed out loud I threw myself on my knees and buried my head in the pillow she didn't speak her fingers trembled in my hair I listened she is whipping I began to soothe her to eschew her I really don't know what I did say to her I say to her Alexandra Andrievna I thank you believe me come yourself enough she persisted never mind all of them let them away again let them come in it does not matter I am dying you see I know what do you fear why are you afraid lift off your head or perhaps you don't love me Alexandra Andrievna what are you saying I love you Alexandra Andrievna she looked straight into my eyes and opened her arms wide then take me in your arms I tell you frankly I don't know how it was I did not go mad that night I feel that my patient is killing herself I see that she is not fully herself I understand too that if she did not consider herself on the point of death she would never have thought of me and indeed it is hard to die at 20 without having known love this was what was torturing her this was why in despair she caught at me do you understand now but she held me in her arms and would not let me go have pity on me Alexandra Andrievna and have pity on yourself I say why what is there to think of you know I must die this she repeated incessantly if I knew that I should return to life and be a proper young lady again I should be ashamed of course ashamed but why now but who has said you will die oh no live off you will not deceive me you don't know how to lie you say leave Alexandra Andrievna I will cure you we will ask your mother's blessing we will be united we will be happy no no I have your word I must die you have promised me you have told me it is cruel for me cruel for many reasons and see what trifling things can do sometimes it seems nothing at all it is painful he talked to her to ask me what is my name not my son name but my first name I must need to be so unlike he has to be called trifle yes indeed trifle evenage everyone in the house call me doctor however there is no help for it I say trifle madam she frowned shook her head and muttered something in French oh something unpleasant of course and then she loved disagreeably too well I spent the whole night with her in this way before morning I went away feeling as though I were mad when I went again into her room it was daytime after morning tea good god I could scarcely cognize her people are laid in the grave looking better than that I swear to you on my honor I don't understand I completely don't understand now how I lived through that experience three days and nights my patients still lingered on and what nights what things they said to me and on the last night only mustn't you yourself I was sitting near her and kept praying to god for one thing only take her I said quickly and me with her suddenly the old mother comes to her room I had already the evening before told her the mother there was little hope and it would be well to send for repressed when I see girl saw her mother she said it's very well you have come look at us we love one another we have given each other the word what does she say doctor what does she say I tend to live it she is wondering I say the fever but she hush hush you told me something quite different just now and have taken my ring what do you pretend my mother is good she will forgive she will understand and I am dying I have no need to tell lies give me your hand I jumped up and ran out of the room the old lady of course guessed how it was I will not however worry you any longer and to me too of course it's painful to recall all this my patient passed away the next day god raised her soul the doctor added speaking quickly and with her sigh before her death she asked her family to go out and leave me alone with her forgive me I am perhaps to blame towards you my illness but believe me I have loved no one more than you do not forget me keep my ring the doctor turned away I took his hand ah he said let us talk of something else or would you care to play preference for a small steak it is not for people like me to give way to exultant emotions there is only one thing for me to think of how to keep the children from crying and the wife from scolding since then you know I have had time to enter into lawful wedlock as they say I took a merchant's daughter 7000 for her dowry her name is Akulina it goes well with Trifon she is an ill-tempered woman I must tell you but luckily she is asleep all day well shall I be preference we set down to preference for half penny points Trifon Ivanovich owned two rubles and a half from me and went home late well pleased with the success end of The District Doctor by Ivan Tugenev Chapter 6 of Best Russians Short Stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Courtney Sandu Best Russians Short Stories edited and compiled by Thomas Seltzer The Christmas Tree and the Wedding by Fyodor Dostoyevsky The other day I saw a wedding but no I would rather tell you about a Christmas tree the wedding was superb I liked it immensely but the other incident was still finer I don't know why it is that the side of the wedding reminded me of the Christmas tree this is the way it happened Exactly five years ago on New Year's Eve I was invited to a children's ball by a man high up in the business world who had his connections his circle of acquaintances and his intrigues so it seemed as though the children's ball was merely a pretext for the parents to come together and discuss matters of interest to themselves quite innocently and casually I was an outsider and as I had no special matters to air I was able to spend the evening independently of the others there was another gentleman present who like myself had just stumbled upon this affair of domestic bliss he was the first to attract my attention his appearance was not that of a man of birth or high family he was tall rather thin, very serious and well dressed apparently he had no heart for the family festivities the instant he went off into a corner by himself the smile disappeared from his face and his thick dark brows knitted into a frown he knew no one except the host and showed every sign of being bored to death though bravely sustaining the role of thorough enjoyment to the end later I learned that he was a provincial had come to the capital on some important brain-wracking business had brought a letter of recommendation to our host and our host had taken him under his protection not at all, Con Amore it was merely out of politeness that he had invited him to the children's ball they did not play cards with him they did not offer him cigars no one entered into conversation with him possibly they recognized the bird by its feathers from a distance thus my gentleman not knowing what to do with his hands was compelled to spend the evening stroking his whiskers his whiskers were really fine but he stroked them so assiduously that one got the feeling that the whiskers had come into the world first and afterwards the man in order to stroke them there was another guest who interested me but he was of quite a different order he was a personage they called him Julian Mostakovich at first glance one could tell he was an honored guest and stood in the same relation to the host as the host to the gentleman of the whiskers the host and hostess said no end of amiable things to him were most attentive whining him, hovering over him bringing guests up to be introduced but never leading him to anyone else I noticed tears glistened in our host's eyes when Julian Mostakovich remarked that he had rarely spent such a pleasant evening somehow I began to feel uncomfortable in this personage's presence so after amusing myself with the children five of whom remarkably well-fed young persons were our hosts I went into a little sitting-room entirely unoccupied and seated myself at the end that was a conservatory and took up almost half the room the children were charming they absolutely refused to resemble their elders notwithstanding the efforts of mothers and governesses in a jiffy they had denuded the Christmas tree down to the very last suite and had already succeeded in breaking half of their playthings before they even found out which belonged to whom one of them was a particularly handsome little lad dark-eyed, curly-haired who stubbornly persisted in aiming at me with his wooden gun but the child that attracted the greatest attention was his sister a girl of about eleven lovely as a cupid she was quiet and thoughtful with large, full, dreamy eyes the children had somehow offended her and she left them and walked into the same room that I had withdrawn into there she seated herself with her doll in a corner her father is an immensely wealthy businessman the guests informed each other in tones of awe three hundred thousand rubles set aside for her dowry already as I turned to look at the group from which I heard this news item issuing my glance met Julian Mostakovic's he stood listening to the insipid chatter in an attitude of concentrated attention with his hands behind his back and his head inclined to one side all the while I was lost in admiration of the shrewdness our host displayed in the dispensing of the gifts the little maid of the mini ruby dowry received the handsomest doll and the rest of the gifts were graded in value according to the diminishing scale of the parent's stations in life his child a tiny chap of tin thin red haired freckled came into position of a small book of nature stories without illustrations or even head and tail pieces he was the governess's child she was a poor widow and her little boy clad in a sorry looking little nankine jacket looked thoroughly crushed and intimidated he took the book of nature stories and circled slowly about the children's toys he would have given anything to play with them but he did not dare to you could tell he already knew his place I like to observe children it is fascinating to watch the individuality in them struggling for self-assertion I could see that the other children's things had tremendous charm for the red haired boy especially a toy theater in which he was so anxious to take apart that he resolved to fawn upon the other children he smiled and began to play with them his one and only apple he handed over to a puffy urchin whose pockets were already crammed with sweets and he even carried another youngster piggyback all simply that he might be allowed to stay with the theater but in a few moments an impudent young person fell on him and gave him a pummeling he did not dare to cry the governess came and told him to leave off interfering with the other children's games and he crept away to the same room the little girl and I were in she let him sit down beside her and the two set themselves busily dressing the expensive doll almost half an hour passed and I was nearly dozing off as I sat there in the conservatory half listening to the chatter of the red haired boy and the doured beauty when Julian Mostakovich entered suddenly he had slipped out of the drawing room under cover of a noisy scene among the children in my secluded corner it had not escaped my notice that a few moments before he had eagerly been conversing with the rich girl's father to whom he had only just been introduced he stood for a while reflecting and mumbling to himself as if counting something on his fingers three hundred three hundred eleven twelve thirteen sixteen in five years let's say four percent five times twelve sixty and on these sixty let us assume that in five years it will amount to well four hundred but the shooed old fox isn't likely to be satisfied with four percent he gets eight or ten even perhaps let's suppose five hundred five hundred thousand at least that's sure anything above that for pocket money he blew his nose and was about to leave the room when he spied the girl and stood still I behind the plants escaped his notice to be quivering with excitement it must have been his calculations that upset him so he rubbed his hands and danced from place to place and kept getting more and more excited finally however he conquered his emotions and came to a standstill he cast a determined look at the future bride and wanted to move toward her but glanced down first then as if with a guilty conscience he stepped over to the child on tiptoe smiling and bent down and kissed her head his coming was so unexpected that she uttered a shriek of alarm what are you doing here dear child he whispered looking around and pinching her cheek we're playing what with him said julian mistakovich with a look a scance at the governess's child you should go into the drawing room my lad he said to him the boy remained silent and looked up at the man with wide open eyes julian mistakovich glanced around again cautiously and bent down over the girl what have you got a doll my dear yes sir the child quailed a little and her brow wrinkled a doll and do you know my dear what dolls are made of no sir she said weakly and lowered her head out of rags my dear you boy you go back to the drawing room to the children said julian mistakovich looking at the boy sternly the two children frowned they caught hold of each other and would not part and do you know why they gave you the doll asked julian mistakovich dropping his voice lower and lower no because you were a good very good little girl this whole week saying which julian mistakovich was seized with the paroxysm of agitation he looked around and said in a tone faint almost inaudible with excitement and impatience if I come to visit your parents will you love me my dear he tried to kiss this sweet little creature but the red-haired boy saw that she was on the verge of tears and he caught her hand and sobbed out loud in sympathy that enraged the man go away go away to the other room to your playmates I don't want him to you go away let him alone she was almost weeping there was a sound of footsteps in the doorway julian mistakovich started and straightened up his respectable body the red-haired boy was even more alarmed he let go of the girl's hand sidled along the wall and escaped through the drawing room into the dining room to attract attention julian mistakovich also made for the dining room he was read as a lobster the sight of himself in a mirror seemed to embarrass him presumably he was annoyed at his own ardor and impatience without due respect to his importance and dignity his calculation had lured and pricked him to the greedy eagerness of a boy who makes straight for his object though this was not as yet an object I followed the worthy man into the dining room where I witnessed a remarkable play julian mistakovich all flushed with vexation venom in his look began to threaten the red-haired boy the red-haired boy retreated farther and farther until there was no place left for him to retreat to and he did not know where to turn in his fright get out of here what are you doing here get out I say you good for nothing stealing fruit are you oh so stealing fruit get out you freckle face go to your likes the frightened child as a last desperate resort crawled quickly under the table his persecutor completely infuriated pulled out his large linen handkerchief and used it as a lash to drive the boy out of his position here I must remark that julian mistakovich was a somewhat corpulent man said puffy-cheeked with a punch and ankles as round as nuts he perspired and puffed and panted so strong was his dislike or was it jealousy of the child that he actually began to carry on like a madman I laughed heartily julian mistakovich turned he was utterly confused and for a moment apparently quite oblivious of his immense importance at that moment our host appeared in the doorway opposite he walked off from out of the table and wiped his knees and elbows julian mistakovich hastened to carry his handkerchief which he had been dangling by the corner to his nose our host looked at the three of us rather suspiciously but like a man who knows the world and can readily adjust himself he seized upon the opportunity to lay hold of his very valuable guest and get what he wanted out of him here is the boy I was talking to you about I took the liberty of presuming on your goodness in his behalf oh! replied julian mistakovich still not quite master of himself he is my governess's son our host continued in a beseeching tone she is a poor creature the widow of an honest official that's why if it were possible for you impossible impossible! julian mistakovich cried hastily you must excuse me philip elixovich really cannot I've made inquiries there are no vacancies and there is a waiting list of ten who have a greater right I'm sorry too bad said our host he's a quiet unobtrusive child a very naughty little rascal I should say said julian mistakovich, Riley go away boy where are you here still be off with you to the other children unable to control himself he gave me a side long glance at myself I laughed straight in his face he turned away and asked our host in tones quite audible to me who that odd young fellow was they whispered to each other and left the room disregarding me I shook with laughter then I too went to the drawing room there the great man already surrounded by the fathers and mothers and the host and hostess had begun to talk eagerly with the lady whom he had just been introduced the lady held the rich little girl's hand julian mistakovich went to a fulsome praise of her he waxed a static over the dear child's beauty her talents, her grace her excellent breeding plainly laying himself out to flatter the mother who listened scarcely able to restrain tears of joy while the father showed his delight by a gratified smile the joy was contagious everybody shared in it even the children were obliged to stop playing so as not to disturb the conversation the atmosphere was surcharged with awe I heard the mother of the important little girl touch to her profoundest depths ask julian mistakovich in the choicest language of courtesy whether he would honor them by coming to see them I heard julian mistakovich accept the invitation with unfaigned enthusiasm then the guests scattered decoriously to different parts of the room and I heard them with veneration in their tones extoll the businessman businessman's wife the businessman's daughter and especially julian mistakovich is he married I asked out loud of an acquaintance of mine standing beside julian mistakovich julian mistakovich gave me a venomous look no answered my acquaintance profoundly shocked by my intentional indiscretion not long ago I passed the church of I was struck I was prepared to witness a wedding it was a dreary day a drizzling rain was beginning to come down I made my way through the throng into the church the bridegroom was around well-fed pot-bellied little man very much dressed up he ran and fussed about and gave orders and arranged things finally word was passed that the bride was coming I pushed through the crowd and I beheld a marvelous beauty the ring was scarcely commencing but the beauty was pale and sad she looked distracted it seemed to me even that her eyes were red from recent weeping the classic severity of every line of her face imparted a particular significance and solemnity to her beauty but through that severity and solemnity through the sadness shown the innocence of a child there was something inexpressively naive unsettled and young in her features which without words seemed to plead for mercy they said she was just 16 years old I looked at the bridegroom carefully suddenly I recognized Julian Mistakovitch whom I had not seen again in all those five years then I looked at the bride again good God! I made my way as quickly as I could out of the church I heard gossiping in the crowd about the bride's wealth and the 500,000 rubles so and so much for pocket money then as calculations were correct I thought as I pressed out onto the street End of The Christmas Tree and the Wedding by Fyodor Dostoevsky recorded by Courtney Sandu Chapter 7 A Best Russian Short Stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain If you have any information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Nikola K Best Russian Short Stories edited and compiled by Thomas Seltzer God Seized the Truth but Wait by Leo Tolstoy In the town of Vladimir lived a young merchant named Ivan Dmitrych Aksyanov he had two shops Aksyanov was a handsome fair-haired curly-headed fellow full of fun and very fond of singing when quite a young man he had been given to drink and was riotous when he had had too much but after he married he gave up drinking except now and then one summer Aksyanov was going to the Nizhny fair and as he obeyed goodbye to his family his wife said to him Ivan Dmitrych do not start today I've had a bad dream about you Aksyanov laughed and said you are afraid that when I get to the fair I shall go on as free his wife replied I do not know what I'm afraid of all I know is that I had a bad dream I dreamt you returned from the town and when you took off your cap I saw that your hair was quite gray Aksyanov laughed that's a lucky sign said he see if I don't sell out all my goods and bring you some presents from the fair so he said goodbye to his family and drove away when he had traveled half way he met a merchant whom he knew and they put up at the same inn for the night they had some tea together and then went to bed in adjoining rooms it was not Aksyanov's habit to sleep late and wishing to travel while it was still cool he aroused his driver before dawn and told him to put in the horses then he made his way across to the landlord of the inn who lived in a cottage at the back paid his bill and continued his journey when he had gone about 25 miles he stopped for the horses to be fed Aksyanov rested a while in the passage of the inn then he stepped out into the porch and ordering a samovar to be heated got out his guitar and began to play suddenly a troika drove up with tinkling bells and an official alighted followed by two soldiers he came to Aksyanov and began to question him asking him who he was and whence he came Aksyanov answered him fully and said won't you have some tea with me but the official went on cross questioning him and asking him where did you spend last night were you alone or with a fellow merchant did you see the other merchant this morning why did you leave the inn before dawn Aksyanov wondered why he was asked all these questions but he described all that had happened and then added why do you cross question me as if I were a thief or a robber I am travelling on business of my own and there is no need to question me then the official calling the soldiers said I am the police officer of this district and I question you because the merchant with whom you spent last night has been found with his throat cut we must search your things they entered the house the soldiers and the police officer the police officer unstrapped Aksyanov's luggage and searched it suddenly the officer drew a knife out of a bag crying whose knife is this Aksyanov looked and seeing a bloodstained knife taken from his bag he was frightened how is it there is blood on this knife Aksyanov tried to answer but could hardly utter a word and only stammered I don't know not mine then the police officer said this morning the merchant was found in bed with his throat cut you were the only person who could have done it the house was locked from inside and no one else was there here is this bloodstained knife in your bag and your face and manner betray you tell me how you killed him and how much money you stole Aksyanov swore he had not done it that he had not seen the merchant after they had had tea together that he had no money except 8000 rubles of his own and that the knife was not his but his voice was broken his face pale and he trembled with fear as though he went guilty the police officer ordered the soldiers to bind Aksyanov and to put him in the cart as they tied his feet together and flung him into the cart Aksyanov crossed himself and wept his money and goods were taken from him and he was sent to the nearest town and imprisoned there the police as to his character were made in Vladimir the merchants and other inhabitants of that town said that in former days he used to drink and waste his time but that he was a good man then the trial came on he was charged with murdering a merchant from Ryazan and robbing him of 20,000 rubles his wife was in despair and did not know what to believe her children were all quite small one was a baby at her breast taking them all with her she went to the town where her husband was in jail at first she was not allowed to see him but after much begging she obtained permission from the officials and was taken to him when she saw her husband in prison dress and in chains shut up with thieves and criminals she fell down and did not come to her senses for a long time then she drew her children to her and sat down near him she told him of things at home and asked about what had happened to him he told her all and she asked what can we do now we must petition the Tsar not to let an innocent man perish his wife told him that she had sent a petition to the Tsar but it had not been accepted Aksyanov did not reply but only looked downcast then his wife said it was not for nothing I dreamt your hair had turned grey you remember you should not have started that day and passing her fingers through his hair she said was it not you who did it so you too suspect me said Aksyanov and hiding his face in his hands he began to weep then a soldier came to say that the wife and children must go away when they were gone Aksyanov recalled what had been said and when he remembered that his wife also had suspected him he said to himself it seems that only God can know the truth it is to him alone we must appeal and from him alone expect mercy and Aksyanov wrote no more petitions gave up all hope and only prayed to God Aksyanov was condemned to be flogged and sent to the mines so he was flogged with a knot and when the wounds made by the knot were healed he was driven to Siberia with other convicts for twenty six years Aksyanov lived as a convict in Siberia his hair turned white as snow and his beard grew long thin and grey all his mirth went he stooped he walked slowly spoke little and never laughed in prison Aksyanov learned to make boots and earned a little money with which he bought the lives of the saints he read this book when there was light enough in the prison and on Sundays in the prison church he read the lessons and sang in the choir for his voice was still good the prison authorities liked Aksyanov for his meekness and his fellow prisoners respected him they called him grandfather and the saint when they wanted to petition the prison authorities about anything they always made Aksyanov their spokesman and when there were quarrels among the prisoners they came to him to put things right and to judge the matter no news reached Aksyanov from his home and he did not even know if his wife and children were still alive one day a fresh gang of convicts came to the prison in the evening the old prisoners collected around the new ones and asked them what images they came from and what they were sentenced for among the rest Aksyanov sat down near the newcomers and listened with downcast air to what was said one of the new convicts a tall strong man of sixty with a closely cropped grey beard was telling the others what he had been arrested for well friends he said I only took a horse that was tied to a sledge and I was arrested and accused of stealing I had only taken it to get home quicker and had then let it go besides the driver was a personal friend of mine so I said it's all right no said they you stole it but how or where I stole it they could not say I once really did something wrong and ought by rights to have come here long ago but that time I was not found out now I have been sent here for nothing at all A but it's lies I'm telling you I've been to Siberia before but I did not stay long where are you from asked someone from Vladimir my family are of that town my name is and they also call me some young age axionov raised his head and said tell me some young age do you know anything of the merchants axionov of Vladimir are they still alive know them of course I do the axionovs are rich though their father is in Siberia a sinner like ourselves that seems as for you granddad how did you come here axionov did not like to speak of his misfortune he only sighed and said for my sins I have been in prison these 26 years what sins asked MacArthur some young age but axionov only said well well I must have deserved it he would have said no more but his companions told the newcomers how axionov came to be in Siberia how someone had killed a merchant put the knife among axionovs things and axionov had been unjustly condemned when MacArthur some young age heard this he looked at axionov slapped his own knee and exclaimed well this is wonderful really wonderful but how old you've grown granddad the others asked him why he was so surprised and where he had seen axionov before but MacArthur some young age did not reply he only said it's wonderful that you meet here lads these words made axionov wonder whether this man knew who had killed the merchant so he said perhaps some young age you have heard of that affair or maybe you've seen me before how could I help hearing the world's full of rumours but it's a long time ago and I've forgotten what I heard perhaps you heard who killed the merchant asked axionov MacArthur some young age laughed and replied it must have been him in whose bag he was found if someone else hid the knife there he's not a thief till he's caught as the saying is how could anyone put a knife into your bag while it was under your head it would surely have woke you up when axionov heard these words he felt sure this was the man who had killed the merchant he rose and went away all that night axionov lay awake he felt terribly unhappy and all sorts of images rose in his mind the image of his wife as she was when he parted from her to go to the fair he saw her as if she were present her face and her eyes rose before him he heard her speak and laugh then he saw his children quite little as they were at that time one with a little cloak on another at his mother's breast and then he remembered himself as he used to be young and merry he remembered how he sat playing the guitar and the porch of the inn where he was arrested and how free from care he had been he saw in his mind the place where he was flogged the executioner and the people standing around the change, the convicts all the 26 years of his prison life and his premature old age the thought of it all made him so wretched that he was ready to kill himself and that's all that villains doing thought axionov his anger was so great against makar samyanich that he longed for vengeance even if he himself should perish for it he kept repeating prayers all night but could get no peace during the day he did not go near makar samyanich nor even look at him a fortnight passed in this way axionov could not sleep at night and was so miserable that he did not know what to do one night as he was walking about the prison he noticed some earth that came rolling out from under one of the shells on which the prisoners slept he stopped to see what it was suddenly makar samyanich crept out from under the shelf and looked up at axionov with frightened face axionov tried to pass without looking at him but makar seized his hand and told him that he had dug a hole under the wall getting rid of the earth by putting it into his high boots and emptying it out every day on the road when the prisoners were driven to their work just you keep quiet old man and you shall get out too if you blab they'll flog the life out of me but I will kill you first axionov trembled with anger as he looked at his enemy he drew his hand away saying I have no wish to escape and you have no need to kill me you killed me long ago as to telling you I may do so or not as God shall direct next day when the convicts were let out to work the convoy soldiers noticed that one or other of the prisoners emptied some earth out of his boots the prison was searched and the tunnel found the governor came and questioned all the prisoners to find out who had dug the hole they all denied any knowledge of it those who knew would not betray makar samyanich knowing he would be flogged almost to death at last the governor turned to axionov whom he knew to be a just man and said you were a truthful old man tell me before God who dug the hole makar samyanich stood as if he were quite unconcerned looking at the governor and not so much as glancing at axionov axionov's lips and hands trembled and for a long time he could not utter a word he thought why should I screen him who ruined my life let him pay for what I have suffered but if I tell they will probably flog the life out of him and maybe I suspect him wrongly and after all what good would it be to me well old man repeated the governor tell me the truth who has been digging under the wall axionov glanced at makar samyanich and said I cannot say your honor it is not God's will that I should tell like with me I am your hands however much the governor tried axionov would say no more and so the matter had to be left that night when axionov was lying on his bed and just beginning to doze someone came quietly and sat down on his bed he peered through the darkness and recognized makar what more do you want of me asked axionov why have you come here makar samyanich was silent so axionov sat up and said what do you want go away or I will call the guard makar samyanich bent close over axionov and whispered event mitrich forgive me what for asked axionov it was I who killed the merchant and hid the knife among your things I meant to kill you too but I heard a noise outside so I hid the knife in your bag and went out of the window axionov was silent and did not know what to say makar samyanich slid off the bed shelf and knelt upon the ground event mitrich said he forgive me for the love of god forgive me I will confess that it was I who killed the merchant and you will be released and can go to your home it is easy for you to talk said axionov but I have suffered for you these years where could I go to now my wife is dead and my children have forgotten me I have nowhere to go makar samyanich did not rise but beat his head on the floor event mitrich forgive me he cried when they flogged me with the knot it was not so hard to bear as it is to see you now yet you had pity on me and did not tell for Christ's sake forgive me wretched that I am when axionov heard him sobbing he too began to weep god will forgive you said he maybe I am a hundred times worse than you and at these words his heart grew light and the longing for home left him he no longer had any desire to leave the prison but only hoped for his last hour to come in spite of what axionov had said makar samyanich confessed his guilt but when the order for his release came axionov was already dead end of God sees the truth but waits by Leo Tolstoy recording by Nicola K