the witch and other stories-第6章

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down　on　the　step；　and　began　reckoning　how　much　the　traveller　owed
him　for　the　night's　lodging；　oats；　and　watering　his　horses。

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

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

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

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

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

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

The　cap　was　found　at　the　bottom　of　the　cart。

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

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


THE　POST

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

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

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

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

〃Semyon　Glazov。〃

〃Come；　sign　the　receipt。〃

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

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

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

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

〃Give　them　my　love；〃　the　postmaster　repeated。

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

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

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

The　student　looked　at　the　sky　and　went　on：

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

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

〃It's　cold！　It's　time　for　the　dawn　to　begin。　Do　you　know　what
time　the　sun　rises？〃

〃What？〃

〃What　time　does　the　sun　rise　now？〃

〃Between　five　and　six；〃　said　the　driver。

The　mail　cart　drove　out　of　the　town。　Now　nothing　could　be　seen　on
either　side　of　the　road　but　the　fences　of　kitchen　gardens　and
here　and　there　a　solitary　willow…tree；　everything　in　front　of
them　was　shrouded　in　darkness。　Here　in　the　open　country　the
half…moon　looked　bigger　and　the　stars　shone　more　brightly。　Then
came　a　scent　of　dampness；　the　postman　shrank　further　into　his
collar；　the　student　felt　an　unpleasant　chill　first　creeping　about
his　feet；　then　over　the　mail　bags；　over　his　hands　and　his　face。
The　horses　moved　more　slowly；　the　bell　was　mute　as　though　it　were
frozen。　There　was　the　sound　of　the　splash　of　water；　and　stars
reflected　in　the　water　danced　under　the　horses'　feet　and　round
the　wheels。

But　ten　minutes　later　it　became　so　dark　that　neither　the　stars
nor　the　moon　could　be　seen。　The　mail　cart　had　entered　the　forest。
Prickly　pine　branches　were　continually　hitting　the　student　on　his
cap　and　a　spider's　web　settled　on　his　face。　Wheels　and　hoofs
knocked　against　huge　roots；　and　the　mail　cart　swayed　from　side　to
side　as　though　it　were　drunk。

〃Keep　to　the　road；〃　said　the　postman　angrily。　〃Why　do　you　run　up
the　edge？　My　face　is　scratched　all　over　by　the　twigs！　Keep　more
to　the　right！〃

But　at　that　point　there　was　nearly　an　accident。　The　cart　suddenly
bounded　as　though　in　the　throes　of　a　convulsion；　began　trembling；
and；　with　a　creak；　lurched　heavily　first　to　the　right　and　then　to
the　left；　and　at　a　fearful　pace　dashed　along　the　forest　track。
The　horses　had　taken　fright　at　something　and　bolted。

〃Wo！　wo！〃　the　driver　cried　in　alarm。　〃Wo　。　。　。　you　devils！

The　student；　violently　shaken；　bent　forward　and　tried　to　find
something　to　catch　hold　of　so　as　to　keep　his　balance　and　save
himself　from　being　thrown　out；　but　the　leather　mail　bags　were
slippery；　and　the　driver；　whose　belt　the　student　tried　to　catch
at；　was　himself　tossed　up　and　down　and　seemed　every　moment　on　the
point　of　flying　out。　Through　the　rattle　of　the　wheels　and　the
creaking　of　the　cart　they　heard　the　sword　fall　with　a　clank　on
the　ground；　then　a　little　later　something　fell　with　two　heavy
thuds　behind　the　mail　cart。

〃Wo！〃　the　driver　cried　in　a　piercing　voice；　bending　backwards。
〃Stop！〃

The　student　fell　on　his　face　and　bruised　his　forehead　against　the
driver's　seat；　but　was　at　once　tossed　back　again　and　knocked　his
spine　violently　against　the　back　of　the　cart。

〃I　am　falling！〃　was　the　thought　that　flashed　through　his　mind；
but　at　that　instant　the　horses　dashed　out　of　the　forest　into　the
open；　turned　sharply　to　the　right；　and　rumbling　over　a　bridge　of
logs；　suddenly　stopped　dead；　and　the　suddenness　of　this　halt
flung　the　student　forward　again。

The　driver　and　the　student　were　both　breathless。　The　postman　was
not　in　the　cart。　He　had　been　thrown　out；　together　with　his　sword；
the　student's　portmanteau；　and　one　of　the　mail　bags。

〃Stop；　you　rascal！　Sto…op！〃　they　heard　him　shout　from　the　forest。
〃You　damned　blackguard！〃　he　shouted；　running　up　to　the　cart；　and
there　was　a　note　of　pain　and　fury　in　his　tearful　voice。　〃You
anathema；　plague　take　you！〃　he　roared；　dashing　up　to　the　driver
and　shaking　his　fist　at　him。

〃What　a　to…do！　Lord　have　mercy　on　us！〃　muttered　the　driver　in　a
conscience…stricken　voice；　setting　right　something　in　the　harness
at　the　horses'　heads。　〃It's　all　that　devil　of　a　tracehorse。
Cursed　filly；　it　is　only　a　week　since　she　has　run　in　harness。　She
goes　all　right；　but　as　soon　as　we　go　down　hill　there　is　trouble！
She　wants　a　touch　or　two　on　the　nose；　then　she　wouldn't　play
about　like　this。　。　。　Stea…eady！　Damn！〃

While　the　driver　was　setting　the　horses　to　rights　and　looking　for
the　portmanteau；　the　mail　bag；　and　the　sword　on　the　road；　the
postman　in　a　plaintive　voice　shrill　with　anger　ejaculated　oaths。
After　replacing　the　luggage　the　driver　for　no　reason　whatever　led
the　horses　for　a　hundred　paces；　grumbled　at　the　restless
tracehorse；　and　jumped　up　on　the　box。

When　his　fright　was　over　the　student　felt　amused　and
good…humoured。　It　was　the　first　time　in　his　life　that　he　had
driven　by　night　in　a　mail　cart；　and　the　shaking　he　had　just　been
through；　the　postman's　having　been　thrown　out；　and　the　pain　in
his　own　back　struck　him　as　interesting　adventures。　He　lighted　a
cigarette　and　said　with　a　laugh：

〃Why　you　know；　you　might　break　your　neck　like　that！　I　very　nearly
flew　out；　and　I　didn't　even　notice　you　had　been　thrown　out。　I　can
fancy　what　it　is　like　driving　in　autumn！〃

The　postman　did　not　speak。

〃Have　you　been　going　with　the　post　for　long？〃　the　student　asked。

〃Eleven　years。〃

〃Oho；　every　day？〃

〃Yes；　every　day。　I　take　this　post　and　drive　back　again　at　once。
Why？〃

Making　the　journey　every　day；　he　must　have　had　a　good　many
interesting　adventures　in　eleven　years。　On　bright　summer　and
gloomy　autumn　nights；　or　in　winter　when　a　ferocious　snowstorm
whirled　howling　round　the　mail　cart；　it　must　have　been　hard　to
avoid　feeling　frightened　and　uncanny。　No　doubt　more　than　once　the
horses　had　bolted；　the　mail　cart　had　stuck　in　the　mud；　they　had
been　attacked　by　highwaymen；　or　had　lost　their　　way　i　n　the
blizzard。　。　。　。

〃I　can　fancy　what　adventures　you　must　have　had　in　eleven　years！〃
said　the　student。　〃I　expect　it　must　be　terrible　driving？〃

He　said　this　and　expected　that　the　postman　would　tell　him
something；　but　the　latter　preserved　a　sullen　silence　and
retreated　into　his　collar。　Meanwhile　it　began　to　get　light。　The
sky　changed　colour　imperceptibly；　it　still　seemed　dark；　but　by
now　the　horses　and　the　driver　and　the　road　could　be　seen。　The
crescent　moon　looked　bigger　and　bigger；　and　the　cloud　that
stretched　below　it；　shaped　like　a　cannon　in　a　gun…carriage；
showed　a　faint　yellow　on　its　lower　edge。　Soon　the　postman's　face
was　visible。　It　was　wet　with　dew；　grey　and　rigid　as　the　face　of　a
corpse。　An　expression　of　dull；　sullen　anger　was　set　upon　it；　as
though　the　postman　were　still　in　pain　and　still　angry　with　the
driver。

〃Thank　God　it　is　d