the witch and other stories-第21章

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that　some　widower　or　elderly　man　would　marry　her　regardless　of
her　poverty；　or　would　perhaps　take　her　to　himself　without
marriage；　and　that　her　mother　would　get　enough　to　eat　living　with
her。　Varvara　heard　about　Lipa　from　the　matchmakers；　and　she　drove
over　to　Torguevo。

Then　a　visit　of　inspection　was　arranged　at　the　aunt's；　with　lunch
and　wine　all　in　due　order；　and　Lipa　wore　a　new　pink
　dress　made　on　purpose　for　this　occasion；　and　a　crimson　ribbon
like　a　flame　gleamed　in　her　hair。　She　was　pale…faced；　thin；　and
frail；　with　soft；　delicate　features　sunburnt　from　working　in　the
open　air；　a　shy；　mournful　smile　always　hovered　about　her　face；
and　there　was　a　childlike　look　in　her　eyes；　trustful　and　curious。

She　was　young；　quite　a　little　girl；　her　bosom　still　scarcely
perceptible；　but　she　could　be　married　because　she　had　reached　the
legal　age。　She　really　was　beautiful；　and　the　only　thing　that
might　be　thought　unattractive　was　her　big　masculine　hands　which
hung　idle　now　like　two　big　claws。

〃There　is　no　dowry　　and　we　don't　think　much　of　that；〃　said
Tsybukin　to　the　aunt。　〃We　took　a　wife　from　a　poor　family　for　our
son　Stepan；　too；　and　now　we　can't　say　too　much　for　her。　In　house
and　in　business　alike　she　has　hands　of　gold。〃

Lipa　stood　in　the　doorway　and　looked　as　though　she　would　say：　〃Do
with　me　as　you　will；　I　trust　you；〃　while　her　mother　Praskovya　the
work…woman　hid　herself　in　the　kitchen　numb　with　shyness。　At　one
time　in　her　youth　a　merchant　whose　floors　she　was　scrubbing
stamped　at　her　in　a　rage；　she　went　chill　with　terror　and　there
always　was　a　feeling　of　fear　at　the　bottom　of　her　heart。　When　she
was　frightened　her　arms　and　legs　trembled　and　her　cheeks
twitched。　Sitting　in　the　kitchen　she　tried　to　hear　what　the
visitors　were　saying；　and　she　kept　crossing　herself；　pressing　her
fingers　to　her　forehead；　and　gazing　at　the　ikons。　Anisim；
slightly　drunk；　opened　the　door　into　the　kitchen　and　said　in　a
free…and…easy　way：

〃Why　are　you　sitting　in　here；　precious　mamma？　We　are　dull　without
you。〃

And　Praskovya；　overcome　with　timidity；　pressing　her　hands　to　her
lean；　wasted　bosom；　said：

〃Oh；　not　at　all。　。　。　。　It's　very　kind　of　you。〃

After　the　visit　of　inspection　the　wedding　day　was　fixed。　Then
Anisim　walked　about　the　rooms　at　home　whistling；　or　suddenly
thinking　of　something；　would　fall　to　brooding　and　would　look　at
the　floor　fixedly；　silently；　as　though　he　would　probe　to　the
depths　of　the　earth。　He　expressed　neither　pleasure　that　he　was　to
be　married；　married　so　soon；　on　Low　Sunday；　nor　a　desire　to　see
his　bride；　but　simply　went　on　whistling。　And　it　was　evident　he
was　only　getting　married　because　his　father　and　stepmother　wished
him　to；　and　because　it　was　the　custom　in　the　village　to　marry　the
son　in　order　to　have　a　woman　to　help　in　the　house。　When　he　went
away　he　seemed　in　no　haste；　and　behaved　altogether　not　as　he　had
done　on　previous　visits　　was　particularly　free　and　easy；　and
talked　inappropriately。

III

In　the　village　Shikalovo　lived　two　dressmakers；　sisters；
belonging　to　the　Flagellant　sect。　The　new　clothes　for　the　wedding
were　ordered　from　them；　and　they　often　came　to　try　them　on；　and
stayed　a　long　while　drinking　tea。　They　were　making　Varvara　a
brown　dress　with　black　lace　and　bugles　on　it；　and　Aksinya　a　light
green　dress　with　a　yellow　front；　with　a　train。　When　the
dressmakers　had　finished　their　work　Tsybukin　paid　them　not　in
money　but　in　goods　from　the　shop；　and　they　went　away　depressed；
carrying　parcels　of　tallow　candles　and　tins　of　sardines　which
they　did　not　in　the　least　need；　and　when　they　got　out　of　the
village　into　the　open　country　they　sat　down　on　a　hillock　and
cried。

Anisim　arrived　three　days　before　the　wedding；　rigged　out　in　new
clothes　from　top　to　toe。　He　had　dazzling　india…rubber　goloshes；
and　instead　of　a　cravat　wore　a　red　cord　with　little　balls　on　it；
and　over　his　shoulder　he　had　hung　an　overcoat；　also　new；　without
putting　his　arms　into　the　sleeves。

After　crossing　himself　sedately　before　the　ikon；　he　greeted　his
father　and　gave　him　ten　silver　roubles　and　ten　half…roubles；　to
Varvara　he　gave　as　much；　and　to　Aksinya　twenty　quarter…roubles。
The　chief　charm　of　the　present　lay　in　the　fact　that　all　the
coins；　as　though　carefully　matched；　were　new　and　glittered　in　the
sun。　Trying　to　seem　grave　and　sedate　he　pursed　up　his　face　and
puffed　out　his　cheeks；　and　he　smelt　of　spirits。　Probably　he　had
visited　the　refreshment　bar　at　every　station。　And　again　there　was
a　free…and…easiness　about　the　man　　something　superfluous　and
out　of　place。　Then　Anisim　had　lunch　and　drank　tea　with　the　old
man；　and　Varvara　turned　the　new　coins　over　in　her　hand　and
inquired　about　villagers　who　had　gone　to　live　in　the　town。

〃They　are　all　right；　thank　God；　they　get　on　quite　well；〃　said
Anisim。　〃Only　something　has　happened　to　Ivan　Yegorov：　his　old
wife　Sofya　Nikiforovna　is　dead。　From　consumption。　They　ordered
the　memorial　dinner　for　the　peace　of　her　soul　at　the
confectioner's　at　two　and　a　half　roubles　a　head。　And　there　was
real　wine。　Those　who　were　peasants　from　our　village　　they　paid
two　and　a　half　roubles　for　them；　too。　They　ate　nothing；　as　though
a　peasant　would　understand　sauce！〃

〃Two　and　a　half；〃　said　his　father；　shaking　his　head。

〃Well；　it's　not　like　the　country　there；　you　go　into　a　restaurant
to　have　a　snack　of　something；　you　ask　for　one　thing　and　another；
others　join　till　there　is　a　party　of　us；　one　has　a　drink　　and
before　you　know　where　you　are　it　is　daylight　and　you've　three　or
four　roubles　each　to　pay。　And　when　one　is　with　Samorodov　he　likes
to　have　coffee　with　brandy　in　it　after　everything；　and　brandy　is
sixty　kopecks　for　a　little　glass。〃

〃And　he　is　making　it　all　up；〃　said　the　old　man　enthusiastically；
〃he　is　making　it　all　up；　lying！〃

〃I　am　always　with　Samorodov　now。　It　is　Samorodov　who　writes　my
letters　to　you。　He　writes　splendidly。　And　if　I　were　to　tell　you；
mamma；〃　Anisim　went　on　gaily；　addressing　Varvara；　〃the　sort　of
fellow　that　Samorodov　is；　you　would　not　believe　me。　We　call　him
Muhtar；　because　he　is　black　like　an　Armenian。　I　can　see　through
him；　I　know　all　his　affairs　like　the　five　fingers　of　my　hand；　and
he　feels　that；　and　he　always　follows　me　about；　we　are　regular
inseparables。　He　seems　not　to　like　it　in　a　way；　but　he　can't　get
on　without　me。　Where　I　go　he　goes。　I　have　a　correct；　trustworthy
eye；　mamma。　One　sees　a　peasant　selling　a　shirt　in　the　market
place。　'Stay；　that　shirt's　stolen。'　And　really　it　turns　out　it　is
so：　the　shirt　was　a　stolen　one。〃

〃What　do　you　tell　from？〃　asked　Varvara。

〃Not　from　anything；　I　have　just　an　eye　for　it。　I　know　nothing
about　the　shirt；　only　for　some　reason　I　seem　drawn　to　it：　it's
stolen；　and　that's　all　I　can　say。　Among　us　detectives　it's　come
to　their　saying；　'Oh；　Anisim　has　gone　to　shoot　snipe！'　That　means
looking　for　stolen　goods。　Yes。　。　。　。　Anybody　can　steal；　but　it　is
another　thing　to　keep！　The　earth　is　wide；　but　there　is　nowhere　to
hide　stolen　goods。〃

〃In　our　village　a　ram　and　two　ewes　were　carried　off　last　week；〃
said　Varvara；　and　she　heaved　a　sigh；　and　there　is　no　one　to　try
and　find　them。　。　。　。　Oh；　tut；　tut。　。〃

〃Well；　I　might　have　a　try。　I　don't　mind。〃

The　day　of　the　wedding　arrived。　It　was　a　cool　but　bright；
cheerful　April　day。　People　were　driving　about　Ukleevo　from　early
morning　with　pairs　or　teams　of　three　horses　decked　with
many…coloured　ribbons　on　their　yokes　and　manes；　with　a　jingle　of
bells。　The　rooks；　disturbed　by　this　activity；　were　cawing　noisily
in　the　willows；　and　the　starlings　sang　their　loudest　unceasingly
as　though　rejoicing　that　there　was　a　wedding　at　the　Tsybukins'。

Indoors　the　tables　were　already　covered　with　long　fish；　smoked
hams；　stuffed　fowls；　boxes　of　sprats；　pickled　savouries　of
various　sorts；　and　a　number　of　bottles　of　vodka　and　wine；　there
was　a　smell　of　smoked　sausage　and　of　sour　tinned　lobster。　Old
Tsybukin　walked　about　near　the　tables；　tapping　with　his　heels　and
sharpening　the　knives　against　each　other。　They　kept　calling
Varvara　and　asking　for　things；　and　she　was　constantly　with　a
distracted　face　running　breathlessly　into　the　kitchen；　where　the
man　cook　from　Kostukov's　and　the　woman　cook　from　Hrymin　Juniors'
had　been　at　work　since　early　morning。　Aksinya；　with　her　hair
curled；　in　her　stays　without　her　dress　on；　in　new　creaky　boots；
flew　about　the　yard　like　a　whirlwind　showing　glimpses　of　her　bare
knees　and　bosom。

It　was　noisy；　there　was　a　sound　of　scolding　and　oaths；　passers…by
stopped　at　the　wide…open　gates；　and　in　everything　there　was　a
feeling　that　something　extraordinary　was　happening。

〃They　have　gone　for　the　bride！〃

The　bells　began　jingling　and　died　away　far　beyond　the　village。　。
。　。　Between　two　and　three　o'clock　people　ran　up：　again　there　was
a　jingling　of　bells：　they　were　bringing　the　bride！　The　church　was
full；　the　candelabra　were　lighted；　the　choir　were　singing　from
music　books　as　old　Tsybukin　had　wished　it。　The　glare　of　the
lights　and　the　bright　coloured　dresses　dazzled　Lipa；　she　felt　as
though　the　singers　with　their　loud　voices　were　hitting　her　on　the
head　with　a　hammer。　Her　boots　and　the　stays；　which　she　had　put　on
for　the　first　time　in　her　life；　pinched　her；　and　her　face　looked
as　though　she　had　only　just　come　to　herself　after　fainting；　she
gazed　about　without　understanding。　Anisim；　in　his　black　coat　with
a　red　cord　instead　of　a　tie；　stared　at　the　same　spot　lost　in
thought；　and　when　the　singers　shouted　loudly　he　hurriedly　crossed
himself。　He　felt　touched　and　disposed　to　weep。　This　church　was
familiar　to　him　from　earliest　childhood；　at　one　time　his　dead
mother　used　to　bring　him　here　to　take　the　sacrament；　at　one　time
he　used　to　sing　in　the　choir；　every　ikon　he　remembered　so　well；
every　corner。　Here　he　was　being　married；　he　had　to　take　a　wife
for　the　sake　of　doing　the　proper　thing；　but　he　was　not　thinking
of　that　now；　he　had　forgotten　his　wedding　completely。　Tears
dimmed　his　eyes　so　that　he　could　not　see　the　ikons；　he　felt　heavy
at　heart；　he　prayed　and　besought　God　that　the　misfortunes　that
threatened　him；　that　were　ready　to　burst　upon　him　to…morrow；　if
not　to…day；　might　somehow　pass　him　by　as　storm…clouds　in　time　of
drought　pass　over　the　village　without　yielding　one　drop　of　rain。
And　so　many　sins　were　heaped　up　in　the　past；　so　many　sins；　all
getting　away　from　them　or　setting　them　right　was　so　beyond　hope
that　it　seemed　incongruous　even　to　ask　forgiveness。　But　he　did
ask　forgiveness；　and　even　gave　a　loud　sob；　but　no　one　took　any
notice　of　that；　since　they　all　supposed　he　had　had　a　drop　too
much。

There　was　a　sound　of　a　fretful　childish　wail：

〃Take　me　away；　mamma　darling！〃

〃Quiet　there！〃　cried　the　priest。

When　they　returned　from　the　church　people　ran　after　them；　there
were　crowds；　too；　round　the　shop；　round　the　gates；　and　in　the
yard　under　the　windows。　The　peasant　women　came　in　to　sing　songs
of　congratulation　to　them。　The　young　couple　had　scarcely　crossed
the　threshold　when　the　singers；　who　were　already　standing　in　the
outer　room　with　their　music　books；　broke　into　a　loud　chant　at　the
top　of　their　voices；　a　band　ordered　expressly　from　the　town　began
playing。　Foaming　Don　wine　was　brought　in　tall　wine…glasses；　and
Elizarov；　a　carpenter　who　did　jobs　b