r% ^- LIBRARY UNIvti i TY OF CAiifORNIA SAN DIEGO IVAN TURGENIEFF Volume VIII VIRGIN SOIL PART I THE NOVELS AND STORIES OF IVAN TUKGENIEFF VIRGIN SOIL PART I TRANSLATED FROM THE RUSSIAN BY ISABEL F. HAPGOOD NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1904 )nn Then Ostrodiimoff raised the paper . burned it to ashes. . and THE NOVELS AND STORIES OF IVAN TURGENIEFF VIRGIN SOIL PART I TRANSLATED FROM THE RUSSIAN BY ISABEL F. HAPGOOD NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1904 Copyright, 1904, by Charles Scribxkr's Sons PREFACE " Virgin Soil," TurgeniefF's last great romance, was published in 1877, beginning in the January number of the European 3Iessenger. For three years previously TurgeniefF had been collecting materials, in Russia and abroad, for this new novel, which was consecrated to the portraj^al of the " new men." He always sedulously followed up all new phenomena in Russian life, and the movement " to the people," which made its ap- pearance at the beginning of the '70s, together with the socialistic propaganda, had interested him deeply for years. Like " Fathers and Children " and " Smoke," *' Virgin Soil," on its appearance, instantly evoked in the literary world and still more in the public interminable disputes, the subject of which was, as before, the author's personal attitude to- ward the topic of the time which was most pal- pitating with interest. Many of the judgments expressed were hostile to Turgenieff , so that once more he began (as he had already done thirteen or fourteen years previously, after the harsh criti- cisms on "Fathers and Children") to express a decided wish to abandon his literary activity. PREFACE In February, 1878, in response to a request from a new journal in Odessa (The Truth), that he would send something for publication, he cate- gorically refused, adding: " It seems to me that the public has no claim on you. And any claims can hardly be taken seriously, judging by the reception accorded to my last works. But be that as it may, / have laid down my pen and shall never talx-e it up again." To this date, in all probability, belongs one of the "Poems in Prose," which begins with Pushkin's words: " Thou shalt hear the judgment of the dullard," .... and capitally expresses the mood of the author's grief -stung soul. During the ten years which had elapsed since the publication of " Smoke," the critics and the public in general had been rather cold toward TurgeniefF. He wrote no great romance during that period, but the short stories which he sent with great regularity to the journals would have aroused enthusiasm had the}" been from any other pen. They included, among others, that gem, " A King Lear of the Steppes." He had not visited Russia during that period, although it had previousl)^ been his custom to return thither al- most annually. The attacks of gout from which he suffered grew increasingly violent, and he lived in Paris, Baden, or with the Viardots near Paris. This long-continued absence furnished the hostile critics with a plausible excuse for as- vi PREFACE serting" that he did not know what he was talking about. " Virgin Soil " did not make a great impres- sion on the reading public, and people began to say not only that he did not know the new Russia, but that his powers were exhausted. They had said the same thing about all the other great writers in their day. The true explanation of these comments is to be found in the fact that this book is even more cheerless than " Smoke," its predecessor, more devoid of faith. It con- tains no energetic person like Potugin, while its hero, jSTezhdanoiF, is even more lacking in vitality than LitvinolF. The heroic strain is exhausted in Russian life, and the poet is not, of course, re- sponsible, says one critic, if his new works are devoid of the breathless interest of his former writings. TurgenieiF, as we know, divided people in gen- eral into two grand classes — the Hamlets and the Don Quixotes. NezhdanofF falls into the Ham- let class, the class of the weak. The author em- ployed a great deal of tenderness and warmth of feeling in delineating these weak men with double aims, who appear so often as his heroes. Nezhdanoff has three distinct lines of interest — his love for Marianna, his literary aspirations, and his revolutionary activity. But he is pure and sincere. He forms the centre of a group of people who, imlike himself, are strong of will vii PREFACE and strong in faith, but, on the other hand, re- markably ill-endowed mentallj^ narrow, dull — downright blockheads. Against that grey back- ground Nezhdanoff stands out in clear, bright relief. He was a transitory type which replaced Bazaroif and, unlike the latter, did not look down with haughty condescension on, but passionately hastened to embrace, the peasant who, on his side, remained distrustful and repelled advances. The man who voluntarily surrenders himself to the superior woman is a favorite theme with Turgenieff, and he had already exploited it in " Asya," " Riidin," " Smoke," and other works, before he created Nezhdanoff on the same lines. INIarianna herself is another of his brilliant por- traits of Russian women, according to some crit- ics; according to others, the least successful of all his feminine figures, in whom he vainly exerts all his efforts to interest the reader. Some interesting comments are contained in a letter from Turgenieff, dated at Paris, January 22, 1877, and addressed to YakofF Petrovitch Polonsky, the poet : " Dear Y. P., I am delighted that the cause of thy silence was the bad condition of thy ink ; for I was begin- ning to think that the failure of ' Virgin Soil ' (the first part), of which I have been informed from various quar- ters, had turned out to be so great that thou, out of • • • VUl PREFACE friendship toward me, couldst not make up thy mind to write. — I fully agree with many of thy remarks (espe- cially as to the ill-judged chapter about Fomushka and Fimushka, — it was a whim of mine — I recalled just such a little old couple, whom I had once known) ; only I beg thee to reserve thy definitive criticism until the second part shall appear. — I tried in every possible way to persuade Stasiulevitch ^ not to break up the romance, but unfortunately, I failed. " It is thy opinion that in ' Virgin Soil,' effort, super- fluous mental toil, and a certain timidity are perceptible . . . . perhaps that is so; I will make only one obser- vation, — that not a single one of my large works was written so quickly, so easily (in three months), — and with so few erasures. Judge for thyself after that! — (The idea had long been revolving in my head, I had several times started to carry it out — but at last I wrote the whole piece straight from the shoulder, as the saying is.) And it turns out that one can know no- thing in advance. " In any case — and whatever decisive opinion the public may form — this is, of course, my last work. It is enough! .... " I took the letter S. to indicate the town as I might have taken A. B., — or even X. ; — and was not thinking in the least of Simbirsk or Samara. " Thou sayest that the young men are not fully sketched; — I know not what I could add to MarkelofF and NezhdanofF; — but the principal hero of the romance, Solomin, only makes his appearance in the second part." ^The editor of the European Messenger. — Teanslatoe. ix PREFACE In another letter to Polonsky, dated February 18, TurgeniefF writes: " There was a time when I begged permission of thee not to mention T . . again; — now I make the same request with regard to ' Virgin Soil.' — Whatever may be its final fate, this is my last independent literary work : this decision of mine is irrevocable: — my name shall never appear again. I would have liked to have my last word meet with a more indulgent reception ; but that it is the last, thou mayest cherish as little doubt as of .... well, as of my friendship for thee. — And nothing more is to be said about it." To another friend, I. I. MasloiF, he writes under date of March 5, 1877: " I thank thee for thy comment on the second part of my romance, and on ' Virgin Soil ' in general ; it de- lighted me all the more because I have never been sub- jected to such universal censure in the journals. — How- ever, that is now a thing of the past for me, as I am fairly determined to write no more, to throw aside my pen, which has served me for more than thirty years ; — it is high time for the veterans to resign.' 5> He did not resign, however. I. F. H. X VIRGIN SOIL (1876) VIRGIN SOIL PART FIRST, " Virgin soil should be broken up not with the primitive plough, which skims along the surface, but with the modern plough, which cuts deep."— -FVoOT the Note-book of a Proprietor-Agriculturist. IN the spring of 1868, about one o'clock in the day, a man of about seven and twenty years of age, carelessly and poorly clad, was ascending the back stairs of a five-story house on Officers Street in Petersburg. Clumping heavily with his patched overshoes, slowly swaying his heavy, awkward body, this man at last reached the very top of the staircase, halted in front of a broken, half -open door— and, without ringing the bell, but merely heaving a noisy sigh, precipitated himself into the small, dark vestibule. " Is NezhdanoiF at home? "—he shouted, in a thick, loud voice. " No, he is not— I am here; come in,"— rang out a feminine voice, which was also decidedly harsh, from the adjoining room. "Miss Mashurin? "—queried the newcomer. " The very person.— And you are Ostrodii- moff ? " S VIRGIN SOIL "Pimen OstrodumofF,"— replied the man; and having first carefully removed his overshoes, and then hung his little old cloak on a nail, he entered the room whence the woman's voice had proceeded. Low-ceiled, squalid, its walls covered with paper of a muddy-green hue, this room was scantily lighted by two small, dusty windows. The only furniture it contained was an iron bed- stead in one corner, a table in the centre, a few chairs, and a set of shelves piled with books.— By the table sat a woman thirty years of age, her hair devoid of covering, in a black woollen gown, smoking a cigarette. When she saw Ostrodii- mofF enter, she silently offered him her broad, red hand. He shook it, as silently,— and, drop- ping into a chair, pulled a half-smoked cigar from his side pocket. Miss Mashurin gave him a light, —he began to smoke, and the two, without uttering a word, without even exchanging a glance, set to emitting wreaths of bluish smoke into the dim air of the room, which, without that addition, was already sufficiently permeated with it. The two smokers had something in common, although they did not resemble each other in features. These slovenly figures, with their big lips, teeth, and noses (OstrodiimofF was pock- marked, to boot), were expressive of something honourable, steadfast, and hard-working. 4 VIRGIN SOIL " Have you seen Nezhdanoff ? "—asked Os- trodumofF, at last. " Yes ; he will be here directly. He has gone to the library with some books." Ostrodumoff spat to one side. " Why has he taken to running about con- stantly? One can never catch him." 3Iiss Mashiirin got herself another cigarette. " He is bored,"— she said, as she carefully lighted it. " Bored! "—repeated OstrodumoiF, reproach- fully. — "Here's self-indulgence for you! One would suppose that he had no occupations in com- mon with us. Here, God willing, we are getting matters in hand, in proper fashion,— but he is bored! " " Has the letter from INIoscow arrived? " — asked Miss Mashiirin, after a brief pause. " Yes .... day before yesterday." " Have j^ou read it ? " Ostrodumoif merely nodded. " Well .... and what does it say? " "What does it say?— we shall have to go soon." ]\Iiss INIashurin took the cigarette out of her mouth. — "Why so? Everything is going well there, I hear." " Things are taking their course. Only one man has proved himself to be untrustworthy^ So . . . he must be removed, if not got rid of al- 5 VIRGIN SOIL together. And there are other matters as well.— You are summoned." " In the letter? " "Yes; in the letter." "Well, all right!"— she ejaculated:— " if the order is issued— there 's no occasion for argu- ment!" " Of course not. Only, without money, it is absolutely impossible ; and where are we to get it, that same money? " Miss Mashurin meditated. " NezhdanofF must procure it,"— she said, in a low voice, as though speaking to herself. " That is precisely what I came for," — re- marked OstrodiimofF. " Have you the letter with you? " suddenly inquired Miss Mashurin. " Yes. Would you like to read it? " *' Give it to me ... or, no, it is unnecessary. We will read it together . . . later." " I am telling you the truth," — grumbled OstrodiimofF:— " you need have no doubts." " I have none." And again both relapsed into silence, and, as before, only wreaths of smoke escaped from their speechless lips, and rose, in faint undulations, above their frousy heads. The clumping of overshoes resounded in the anteroom. " There he is! "—whispered Miss Mashurin. 6 VIRGIN SOIL The door opened a little, and through the inter- stice a head was thrust — only, it was not Nezhda- noiF's head. It was a small, round head, with stiff black hair, a broad, furrowed brow, small, very viva- cious brown eyes beneath thick brows, with an upturned nose resembling a duck's bill, and a small, rosy, comically-formed mouth. This head took a survey, nodded, laughed, — incidentally displayed a multitude of tiny, white teeth, — and entered the room along with its puny, ugly body with short arms and somewhat crooked, some- what lame little legs. And no sooner did Miss Mashiirin and Ostrodiimoff espy that small head, than both expressed upon their counte- nances something in the nature of condescending scorn, exactly as though each of them inwardly ejaculated: "Ah! that fellow!"— and they ut- tered not a single word; they did not even move. But the reception accorded to him not only did not disconcert the newly-arrived visitor, but, ap- parently, afforded him a certain satisfaction. " What doth this signify? " — he said, in a squeaking voice. — "A duet? Why not a trio? And where 's the leading tenor? " *' Are you inquiring about Mr. NezhdanofF, Mr. Pakhlin?" — rejoined OstrodiimofF, with a serious mien. "Exactly so, Mr. Ostrodumoff; about him." 7 VIRGIN SOIL " In all probability he will be here soon, Mr. Pakhlin." " I am very glad to hear it, Mr. OstrodumofF." The lame little man turned to Miss Mashurin. She was sitting with her brows contracted in a frown, and continued, in a leisurely manner, to puff at her cigarette. " How is your health, my dearest .... dearest. . . . Well, now, how annoying! I am always forgetting how to address you by your name and patronymic ! " Miss Mashurin shrugged her shoulders. " And it is quite unnecessary that you should know! ^ly surname is known to you. What more do you require! — And what sort of a ques- tion is that — ' How is your health? ' — Cannot you see that I am alive? " "Perfectly, perfectly correct!" — exclaimed Pakhlin, inflating his nostrils and twitching his eyebrows: — "if you were not alive, your most humble servant would not have the pleasure of seeing you here and conversing with you! — Ascribe my inquiry to an inveterate bad habit. And now, as to the name and patronymic. . . Do you know, it 's awkward, somehow, to say ' Mashurina ' ^ straight out ! I am aware, it is true, that you never sign your letters otherwise 1 It is permissible to allude to a woman by the feminine form of her family name, without any prefix whatever. But this form — which Turgenieif uses throughout for this character — is awkward in Eng- lish. — Teanslatoe. 8 VIRGIN SOIL than ' Bonaparte '!— I mean to say, ' Masliu- rina' !— But, all the same, in conversation . . . ." " But who asked you to converse with me? " Paklilin began to laugh in a nervous way, as though he were choking. " Come, that will do, my dear; my sweet little dove, give me your hand ; don't get angry, for I know that you are extremely good-natured, and so am I. . . Well? . . . ." Paklilin extended his hand. . . . Miss Mashurin stared gloomily at him — but she gave him her hand, nevertheless. "If it is imperatively necessary for you to know my name,"— said she, still with the same gloomy aspect—" so be it: my name is Thekla." " And mine is Pimen," added OstrodumofF, in a bass voice. " Akh! that is very .... very edifying! But, in that case, tell me, oh, Thekla! and you, oh, Pimen! tell me, why you both treat me in so hostile, so persistently-hostile a manner, wliile I " " Miss Mashurin thinks,"— interi-upted Ostro- dumofF,—" that, as you look at everything from its ridiculous side, it is not possible to rely upon you.'' Pakhlin twirled abruptly round on his heels. " There it is; that 's the perpetual mistake of people who condemn me, most respected Pimen: In the first place, I am not always laughing ; and, 9 VIRGIN SOIL in the second place, that does not prevent the possibility of relying upon me, which is proved by the flattering confidence which I have more than once enjoyed in your own ranks! I am a man of honour, most respected Pimen! " OstrodiimofF muttered something between his teeth, while Pakhlin nodded his head, and re- peated, this time without the shadow of a smile: " No! I am not always laughing! I am not at all a jolly man! Just look at me! " Ostrodiimoff looked at him.— As a matter of fact, when Pakhlin was not laughing, when he was silent, his face assumed an almost dejected, almost frightened expression ; it became amusing, and even malicious, as soon as he opened his mouth. But OstrodumofF made no comment. Again Pakhlin addressed himself to Miss Mashiirin. " Well, and how are your studies progressing? Are you making a success in your truly humane art? 'T is a difficult job, it strikes me— to aid an inexperienced citizen at his first entrance into God's world." " 'T is nothing; there is no difficulty if he is not much bigger in size than you," — retorted Miss Mashiirin, who had just passed her examinations as a midwife, — and she indulged in a self-satis- fied smile. A year and a half previously, aban- doning her family, a family of gentry in the south of Russia, she had come to Petersburg 10 VIRGIN SOIL with six rubles in her pocket; she had entered an obstetrical institution, and by dint of inces- sant toil, she had obtained the coveted certificate. She was a virgin, .... and a very chaste virgin. " That is nothing remarkable! " some sceptic will say, recalling what has been said about her per- sonal appearance. It is remarkable and rare! we permit ourselves to remark. On hearing her retort, Pakhlin again burst out laughing. "You're a gallant fellow, my dear!" — he exclaimed. — " You have reprimanded me splen- didly! I deserved it! Why have I remained such a dwarf? But where has our host vanished to?" It was not without a purpose that Pakhlin changed the conversation. He could not reconcile himself to his tiny stature, with his ill-favoured figure as a whole. He was the more sensitive on that point because he was passionately fond of women. What would not he have given to find favour in their sight! The consciousness of his miserable exterior preyed upon him far more than his insignificant extraction, than his unen- viable social position. Pakhlin's father was a plain burgher, who had served through all sorts of iniquities up to the rank of Titular Councillor, a cunning intermediary in lawsuits, a speculator. He had managed estates and houses, and so had acquired a little money; but he had become 11 VIRGIN SOIL strongly addicted to drink toward the end of his life, and had left nothing after his death. Young Pakhlin (his name was Sila .... Sila Samsonitch^ —which, also, he regarded as a jeer at himself) had been educated in a Commercial school, where he had learned the German language capi- tally. After various decidedly heavy trials he had at last obtained a position in a private counting-house, at a salary of fifteen hundred rubles a year. On this money he maintained himself, his invalid aunt, and his hunchbacked sister. At the time of our story he had just entered his twenty-eighth year. Pakhlin was acquainted with a multitude of students, young men who liked him because of his cynical vi- vacity, the merry bitterness of his self-confident speeches, his one-sided, far from indubitable learning, devoid of pedantry. Only now and then did he suffer at their hands. Once he was late at a political gathering On entering, he immediately began to make hurried excuses. . . . " Pakhlin poor is chicken-hearted,"— some one in the corner began to chant,— and all burst out laughing. Pakhlin at last began to laugh him- self, although his heart ached. " He has spoken the truth, the rascal!" — he thought to himself. He had made acquaintance with Nezhdanoff at a Greek eating-house, whither he was in 1 That is, "Strong, son of Samson."— Tea kslator. 12 VIRGIN SOIL the habit of going to dine, and where he occa- sionally gave expression to extremely free and harsh opinions. He asserted that the chief cause of his democratic frame of mind was the bad Greek cookery, which irritated his liver. " Yes .... just so ... . what has become of our host? " — repeated Pakhlin. — " I notice that, for some time past, he has been in low spirits. Can it be that he is in love — God forbid! " Miss Mashurin frov\^ned. " He went to the library for books,— and he has no time to fall in love, and no one to fall in love with." " And how about you? " came near bursting from Paldilin's lips. " I wish to see him," — he said aloud, — " be- cause I must have a talk with him about an im- portant affair." " What affair? " — interposed Ostrodiimoff. — "Our cause?" " Perhaps it is your cause .... that is to say, our cause in general." Ostrodumoff snorted. In his secret soul he doubted, but he immediately thought: " But the devil only knows! He 's such a sly dog! " " Here he comes at last," — said Miss Mashurin, suddenly,— and in her small, ugly eyes, riveted on the door of the anteroom, there rose a certain 13 VIRGIN SOIL warm and tender flash, a certain bright, deep, inward spark. The door opened, and this time, with cap on head and a bundle of books under his arm, there entered a young man of twenty -three — Nezhda- noff himself. II At the sight of the visitors in his room, he halted on the threshold, scanned them all, flung aside his cap, dropped his books straight on the floor, and going to the bed, he perched himself on its edge, without uttering a word. His handsome, white face, which seemed still whiter from the dark-red hue of his waving chestnut hair, ex- pressed displeasure and vexation. Miss Mashiirin turned slightly away and bit her lip; OstrodiimofF muttered: "At last!" Pakhlin was the first to approach NezhdanofF. " What 's the matter with thee, Alexyei Dmi- trievitch, the Russian Hamlet? Has any one vexed thee? Or hast thou just got down in the mouth — without any cause?" " Please stop, thou Russian Mephistopheles," — replied NezhdanofF, irritably. — " I 'm not in the mood to vie with thee in flat witticisms." Pakhlin burst into a laugh: " Thou expressest thyself inaccurately: if it 's witty, it 's not flat ; if it 's flat, it 's not witty." " Well, very good, very good. . . Thou art a wit, everybody knows that." 15 VIRGIN SOIL " And thou art in a nervous condition," — ejaculated Pakhlin, in jerks. — " Has something actually happened? " "Nothing in particular has happened; — but it has come to pass that you can't put your nose into the street in this detestable town, in Peters- burg, without running up against some triviality, some stupidity, some outrageous injustice, some nonsense or other ! It 's impossible to live here any longer." " That 's exactly why thou hast published in the newspapers that thou wouldst like a place as private tutor, and wert willing to leave town," — muttered OstrodiimofF again. " Of course; with the greatest pleasure I will go away from here! If I could only iind a fool who would offer me a place! " " First thou must discharge thy obligations here"— said Miss Mashurin, significantly, with- out ceasing to gaze to one side. " That is to say? " — inquired Nezhdanoff, turning abruptly round toward her. Miss Ma- shurin compressed her lips. " OstrodumofF will tell you." Nezhdanoff turned to Ostrodumoff . But the latter merely grunted and cleared his throat, as much as to say, " wait a bit." " Yes, without jesting, as an actual fact," — in- terposed Pakhlin:—" thou hast heard something, something unpleasant! " 16 VIRGIN SOIL Nezhdanoif sprang up from the bed, as though something had exploded beneath him. " What other unpleasantness would you have?"— he shouted suddenly, in a ringing voice.—" Half Russia is dying of hunger. The Moscow News is triumphing, they want to in- troduce classical studies, they are prohibiting student funds, everywhere there is espionage, oppression, tale-bearing, lying and falsehood— we cannot take a step in any direction . . . and that is not enough for him, he still expects a fresh unpleasantness; he thinks that I am jesting .... BasanofF has been arrested,"— he added, lower- ing his voice somewhat: — "they told me at the library." OstrodiimofF and Miss Mashiirin raised their heads simultaneously. " Dear friend Alexyei Dmitrievitch,"— be- gan Paklilin,— " thou art excited— which is easily comprehensible .... but hast thou forgotten in what age, and in what country we live?— For, with us, the drowning man must himself fabri- cate the straw at which he is obliged to clutch!— Where 's the chance to be sentimental under such circimistances? We must learn, brother, how to look the devil straight in the eye, and not get angry, like children. ..." " Akh, please, please stop that! "—interrupted NezhdanofF, sadly, and he even knit his brows, as though in pain.—" Thou art an energetic 17 VIRGIN SOIL man, every one knows that,— thou fearest nothing and no one. . . ." " I fear no one, don't I?"— PakliHn was be- ginning " But who could have betrayed Basanoff ? " —went on Nezhdanoff,— " I do not under- stand!" " A friend,— of course.— That 's what those fine fellows— friends— are for. Be on your guard with them! For instance,— I had a friend, and he seemed to be a fine man : he was so anxious for me, for my reputation ! You see, this is what he used to do : he would come to me :....' Just imagine,' he would cry: 'what stupid calumny about you has been disseminated: people de- clare that you poisoned your own uncle, — that you were introduced into a certain house, and you immediately sat down with your back to the hostess— and sat so throughout the evening! And she wept, wept with the affront.- Such nonsense, you know! such folly! What fools could believe it? '—and what happened? A year later I quarrelled with that same friend. . . And he wrote to me, in his farewell letter : ' You, who put your uncle to death!— you, who were not ashamed to insult a respectable lady, by sitting with your back to her ! ' . . . and so forth, and so on. — That's what friends are like!" Ostrodumoff exchanged glances with Miss Mashiirin. 18 VIRGIN SOIL " Alexyei Dmitrievitch ! " — he clashed out in his heavy bass voice: he was obviously desirous of putting a stop to the eruption of words which had begun: " a letter from Vasily Nikolaitch has arrived from Moscow." NezhdanofF shuddered slightly, and dropped his eyes. " What does he write? " — he asked at last. " Why, here we and she " — Ostro- diimofF indicated ]Miss Mashiirin with his eye- brows — "must go." " What? — she is summoned also? " " Yes, she also." " What stands in the way? " *' 'T is plain enough what .... 't is a ques- tion of money." Nezhdanoff rose from the bed and walked to the window. " Is much needed? " " Fifty rubles .... Nothing less will do." NezhdanofF said nothing. " I have none at present," he whispered at last, as he drummed on the glass with his fingers, — " but ... I can get some. Hast thou the letter? " " The letter? It . . . yes, I have it of course " "But why do you conceal everything from me? " — exclaimed Pakhlin. — " Am I not worthy of your confidence? — Even if I were not in com- 19 VIRGIN SOIL plete sympathy . . . with that which you are un- dertaking, — do you suppose that I am capable of betraying or blabbing? " " Unintentionally .... you might," — rumbled OstrodumofF, in his bass voice. "Neither intentionally nor unintentionally! — There is Miss JNIashurin staring at me and smil- ing .... but I will tell you " " I 'm not smiling at all,"— said Miss Ma- shiirin, angrily. " But I will tell you,"— went on Pakhlin,— " that you, gentlemen, have not a fine scent ; that you don't know how to distinguish who are your true friends! A man laughs, and you think he is not serious . . . ." " And is n't that so, pray? "—said Miss Ma- shiirin, still angrily. " Here, now, for instance," — resumed Pakhlin, with fresh force, this time not even replying to Miss Mashurin — " you are in need of money . . . and A^ezhdanoff has none at present .... But I can give it." NezhdanofF turned round hastily from the window. " No . . . no . . . why should you? I will get it .... I will get a part of my allowance in ad- vance It occurs to my memory that they are in debt to me. But see here, Ostrodumoff , show us that letter." At first Ostrodumoif remained impassive for 20 VIRGIN SOIL some time; then he glanced around him; then he rose, bent his whole body forward, and pulling up his trousers, he drew a carefully-folded scrap of blue paper out of the leg of his boot; as he drew it out he blew upon it, for some unknown reason, and handed it to Nezhdanoff . The latter took the paper, unfolded it, read it through with care, and gave it to Miss ^lashiirin. . . . The latter first rose from her chair, then read it also, and returned the paper to Nezhdanoff , although Pakhlin stretched out his hand for it. NezhdanofF shrugged his shoulders and handed the mj^sterious letter to Pakhlin. Pakhlin, in his turn, ran his eyes over the paper, and pursing up his lips with great significance, solemnly and softlv laid it on the table. Then OstrodiimofF took it, lighted a large match, which dissemi- nated a powerful odour of sulphur, and having first raised the paper high above his head, as though he were exhibiting it to all present, burned it to ashes on the match, not sparing his own fingers, and flung the ashes into the stove. No one uttered a word, no one even moved dur- ing the course of this operation. The eyes of all present were fixed on the floor. Ostrodumofl* wore a concentrated and business-like aspect, NezhdanofF's face seemed malignant, but Pakli- lin displayed an effort; Miss Mashurin seemed to be celebrating some service of worship. Two minutes passed thus. . . Then all felt 21 VIRGIN SOIL rather awkward. Pakhlin was the first to feel the necessity of breaking the silence. " Well, how is it to be? "—he began:—" Is my sacrifice on the altar of the fatherland to be ac° cepted, or not? Am I to be permitted to con- tribute, if not fifty, at least twenty-five or thirty rubles toward the common enterprise? " NezhdanofF suddenly flared up. It seemed as though he were boihng with vexation The solemn cremation of the letter had not decreased it,— it had only been awaiting a pretext in order to burst forth. " I have already told thee that it was not nec- essary, not necessary. . . not necessary! I will not allow it, I will not accept it. I will get money, I will get it immediately. I need aid from no one! " "Well, brother,"— said Pakhlin,— " I per- ceive, although thou art a revolutionist, thou art not a democrat! " " Say it straight out, that I am an aristocrat! " " Well, thou really art an aristocrat .... to a certain degree." NezhdanoiF emitted a constrained laugh: " That is, thou wishest to hint at the fact that I am an illegitimate son. Thou art wasting thy pains in vain, my dear fellow. ... I do not forget it, even without thy reminding me of it." Pakhlin wrung his hands. " For heaven's sake, Alyosha, what is the mat- 22 VIRGIN SOIL ter with thee? How canst thou put such a con- struction on my words? I do not recognise thee to-day." — Nezhdanoff made an impatient ges- ture with his head and shoulders.—" BasanofF's arrest has put thee out of sorts ; but, seest thou, he behaved himself so incautiously. ..." " He did not conceal his convictions," — put in Miss INIashurin gloomily: — "it is not our place to condemn him! " "Yes; only he ought to have kept in mind, also, his friends, whom he may now compromise." " Why do you assume that of him? . . ." rumbled OstrodumofF, in his turn:— " Basanoif is a man of steadfast character ; he will not betray any one. And as for lack of caution .... do you know what? Not every one f)ossesses the gift of being cautious, Mr. Paklilin ! " Pakhlin took offence, and was on the point of retorting, but Nezhdanoff stopped him. "O Lord!" — he exclaimed, — "do me a fa- vour: let 's drop politics for a time." A silence ensued. " I met Skoropikhin to-day," — remarked Pakhlin, at last,—" our All-Russia critic, and (esthetic and enthusiast. What an intolerable creature ! He 's forever seething and frothing, exactly like a bottle of wretched sour-cabbage beer .... The waiter, in his flight, has stuffed his finger into it in place of the cork; a fat raisin has got stranded in the neck, — it keeps on 23 VIRGIN SOIL bubbling and hissing,— and when all the froth has flown out of it, at the bottom there will re- main at most a few drops of vile liquid, which not only slakes no one's tliirst, but merely causes a colic A very deleterious individual for vounff folks! " The comparison employed by Pakhlin, al- though true and accurate, did not evoke a smile on the face of any one. OstrodiimofF alone re- marked that there was no need to pity young folks who were capable of taking an interest in aesthetics, even if Skoropikhin did lead them astray. "But, good gracious, stop!" — exclaimed Pa- khlin with heat; the less sympathy he encoun- tered, the more fervent did he become: — " let us assume that is not a political question, but still one of importance. If you listen to Skoropikhin, every ancient artistic production is good for no- thing, from the very fact that it is ancient. . . . But in that case, art, the arts in general, are no- thing but a fashion — and it is not worth while to talk seriously about them. If there is nothing stable about them, nothing eternal, — then the devil take them! In science, in mathematics, for example: you do not consider Euler, Laplace, Gauss as antiquated triflers? You are ready to recognise their authority, but Raphael and Mo- zart are fools? And your pride rises in rebellion against their authority? The laws of art are 24 VIRGIN SOIL more difficult to grasp than the laws of science. ... I agree, but they exist; and he who does not perceive them is blind; voluntarily or involun- tarily, it makes no difference! " Pakhlin relapsed into silence .... and no one uttered a word, just as though they had all filled their mouths with water — as though they w^ere all rather ashamed of him. OstrodiimofF alone muttered : " And nevertheless, I do not in the least com- miserate those young people whom Skoropildiin leads astray." "Well now, I wash my hands of you!" thought Pakhlin. "I'm going!" He had come to NezhdanofF with the object of imparting to him his ideas concerning the transmission from abroad of the Polar Star (the Bell^ no longer existed) — but the con- versation had taken such a turn that it was bet- ter not to raise that question. Paldilin had al- ready taken up his hat, when suddenly, without any preliminary noise or knock, there resounded from the anteroom a remarkably agreeable, manly, and rich baritone voice, the very sound of which exhaled some unusually noble, well-bred, and even fragrant element. " Is Mr. NezhdanofF at home? " " Yes," — replied NezhdanofF, at last. ^ Alexander Hertzen's famous revolutionary journal, published abroad and regularly smuggled into Russia. — Traxslatou. V^6 VIRGIN SOIL The door opened discreetly and smoothly, and slowly removing a shiny hat from his comely, closely-clipped head, a man about forty years of age, of lofty stature, stately and majestic, entered the room. Dressed in a very handsome cloth paletot with a beaver collar, although the month of April was already drawing to its close — he stunned them all, NezhdanoiF, Pakhlin, even Miss Mashiirin . . . even Ostrodiimoff ! — with the elegant self-confidence of his carriage and the amiable composure of his greeting. All involuntarily rose to their feet on his appear- ance. 26 Ill The elegant man approached Nezhdanoff and, with a benevolent smile, remarked: " I have al- ready had the pleasure of meeting you, and even of conversing with you, Mr. Nezhdanoff, day before yesterday, if you will be good enough to recall it— in the theatre." (The visitor paused, as though waiting; Nezhdanoff bowed his head slightly, and nodded.) —" Yes! . . . and to-day I have presented myself to you in consequence of the advertisement which you put in the newspapers. I should like to have a talk with you, if I shall not be in the way of the ladies and gentlemen present. . . ." (The visitor bowed to Miss Mashurin, and waved his hand, clad in a greyish glove of undressed kid, in the direction of Paldilin and OstrodiimofF) — " and if I do not disturb them " " No .... why should you? . . . ." replied Nezhdanoff, not without an effort.—" These gen- tlemen will permit .... Will you not be seated? " The visitor made a pleasant inclination, and amiably grasping the back of a chair, drew it toward him, but did not sit down, — as every one in the room was standing, — but merely cast his brilliant though half -closed eyes around. 27 VIRGIN SOIL " Good-bye, Alexyei Dmitritch,"— said Miss Mashiirin suddenly: — "I will come in later." " So will I,"— added Ostrodiimoff. — " I also .... will see you later." Avoiding the visitor, and as though by way of defying him. Miss JMashurin grasped Nezh- danofF's hand, gave it a hearty shake, and left the room without bowing to any one. Ostrodumoff followed her, clumping unnecessarily with his boots, and even snorting a couple of times, as much as to say: " Take that, thou beaver collar! " Tlie visitor followed the two with a polite, rather curious glance. Then he fixed it on Pakhlin, as though expecting that he, also, would follow the example of the two visitors who had withdrawn; but Pakhlin, on whose countenance, from the very moment of the visitor's appearance, a pecu- liar, restrained smile had dawned, stepped aside and took refuge in a corner. Then the visitor seated himself on the chair. NezhdanofF also sat down. "My name is Sipyagin; perhaps you have heard it," — began the visitor, with proud modesty. But first we must narrate in what manner NezhdanofF had met him at the theatre. On the occasion of Sadovsky's arrival from ]Moscow, Ostrovsky's play, " Shoemaker, Stick to Your Last," ^ had been given. The part of 1 Literally, " Don't seat yourself in any one's sledge but your own . " — Tr A NSLATOR. 28 VIRGIN SOIL RusakofF was, as every one knows, one of the famous actor's favourite roles. Before dinner NezhdanofF went to the theatre office, where he found a good many people assembled. He was preparing to buy a ticket for the pit; — but, at the moment when he stepped up to the opening of the office, an officer who stood behind him shouted to the ticket-seller, pushing three rubles over Nezh- danoff's head: "Pie" (meaning NezhdanofF) " will probably have to get change — but I do not need it:— so please give me, as quickly as possible, a seat in the first row. ... I 'm in a hurry!" — "Excuse me, Mr. Officer," — said NezhdanofF, in a sharp voice,—" I myself wish to buy a seat in the first row," — and thereupon he flung into the little window, a three-ruble note — his entire cash capital. The ticket-seller gave him his ticket; and, in the evening, Nezh- danofF found himself in the aristocratic section of the Alexandra Theatre. He was badly dressed, devoid of gloves, in unblacked boots — he felt confused, and was vexed with himself for having that feeling. Be- side him, on the right, sat a general, besprinkled with stars;— on the left, that same elegant gentle- man, Privy Councillor Sipyagin, whose appear- ance, two days later, had so excited Miss Ma- shurin and OstrodumofF. The general glanced at NezhdanofF from time to time as at something indecent, unexpected, and even insulting; Si- 29 VIRGIN SOIL pyagin,on the contrary, cast at him glances which, although sidelong, were not hostile.— All the persons who surrounded NezhdanofF seemed, in the first place, to be personages rather than persons; in the second place, they were all very well acquainted with one another, and exchanged brief conversations, remarks, or even simple ex- clamations and greetings — some of them, even, over NezhdanofF's head; but he sat motionless and awkward in his seat,— like a regular pariah. He felt bitter and ashamed and wretched in soul; he derived very little enjoyment from Ostrovsky's comedy and from Sadovsky's act- ing. And, all at once, oh marvel! during one of the intermissions between the acts, his neighbour on the left — not the star-bestudded general, but the other, who had no insignia of distinction on his breast — politely and softly entered into con- versation with him, with a sort of insinuating condescension. He began to talk about Ostrov- sky's piece, desiring to learn from NezhdanofF, — as from " one of the representatives of the rising generation,"— what was his opinion regarding it. Astounded, almost frightened, Nezhdanoff answered abruptly and in monosyllables, at first .... his heart even began to beat violently; but afterward, he was vexed with himself; why was he so agitated by it? Was not he just as much of a man as all the rest of them? And he began to set forth his opinion, without embarrassment, 30 VIRGIN SOIL without reserve, and, at last, so loudly, and with such enthusiasm, that he evidently disturbed his star-bestudded neighbour. NezhdanofF was an ardent admirer of Ostrovsky;— but, notwith- standing all his respect for the talent displayed by the author in his comedy, " Shoemaker, Stick to Your Last," he could not approve of the very evident desire contained therein, to ridicule civili- sation in the caricatured personage VikhorefF. — His courteous neighbour listened to him with at- tention, with sjT^mpathy; and, at the following intermission, he again entered into conversation with him, but this time not about Ostrovsky's comedy, but in a general way, about various worldl}', scientific, and even political topics. Obviously, he was interested in his young and eloquent interlocutor. Nezhdanoff, as before, not only did not stand on ceremony, but even put on more steam, as the expression runs. " If you ask questions— here goes!" What he aroused in his neighbour the general was no longer mere uneasiness, but wrath and suspicion. At the conclusion of the play, Sipyagin bade farewell to Nezhdanoff in a very affectionate manner — but did not ask his name, and did not mention his own. While waiting for his carriage on the stair- case, he encountered a good friend of his, Im- perial-Adjutant Prince G.— " I was watching thee from my box," — the prince said to him, laughing lightly through his perfumed mous- 31 VIRGIN SOIL tache:— " dost thou know with whom tliou wert talldng? "— " No, I don't know! dost thou?"— " He was n't a stupid young fellow, was he, hey? "_" Very far from stupid: who is he? "— Then the prince bent down to his ear and whis- pered in French: — " JMy brother. Yes; he is my brother. He is my father's illegitimate son . . . he is called NezhdanofF. I '11 tell thee about it some day. . . . My father did not expect it in the least, so he named him Nezhdc4nofF.^ But he arranged his fate for him . . . il lui a fait un sort. . . . We pay him a pension. That young man has a head . . . and, by my father's kind- ness, he has received a good education. Only he has got entirely off the track ; he 's a republi- can, or something of that sort. . . . We do not receive him. . . . II est impossible! But good- bye, they are calling my carriage."— The prince departed, and on the following day Sipyagin read in the Police News the advertisement which Nezhdanoff had inserted— and went to him. . . . " ^ly name is Sipyagin,"— he said to Nezhda- nofF, as he sat in front of him on a straw-bot- tomed chair, and surveyed him with his impres- sive gaze:— "I learned from the nev/spapers that you wish to secure a place as tutor, and I have come to you with the following proposition. I am married; I have one son— nine years of agCc The boy is extremely gifted— I will say that 1 "The Unexpected."— Translatoe. 32 VIRGIN SOIL frankly. We spend the greater part of the summer and autumn in the country, in the Gov- ernment of S. . . . , five miles from the govern mental capital. So here now: would you like to go thitlier with us for the vacation, to teach my son the Russian language and history — the sub- jects which you mention in your advertisement? I venture to think that j^ou will be satisfied with me, with my family, and with the location of my manor-house. There is a very fine park, a river, good air, a spacious house. . . . Do you accept? In that case, all that remains is to in- quire your terms, although I do not suppose," — added Sipj^agin with a slight grimace, — " that any difficulties will arise between us on that score." All the while that Sipyagin w^as talking NezhdanofF stared intently at him, at his small head, which was thrown somewhat backward, at his low, narrow, but intelligent brow, his thin, Roman nose, his pleasant eyes, his regular lips, from which the gracious speech flowed smoothly^ at his long side-wiiiskers, which drooped after the English fashion — stared and wondered. — "What 's the meaning of this?" he thought. " Why is this man fairly paying court to me? This aristocrat — and I! — How did we come to- gether? And what has brought him to me? " He was so immersed in his own reflections that he did not even open his mouth, when Sipyagin* 33 VIRGIN SOIL at the conclusion of his speech, relapsed into si- lence, awaiting an answer. Sipyagin darted a glance at the corner where Pakhlin had taken refuge, and was devouring him with his ej^es in a manner quite equal to that of Nezhdanoff— as much as to say, " Is not the presence of this third person keeping NezhdanoiF from speaking out? " — Sipyagin elevated his eyebrows, as though sub- mitting to the strangeness of the surroundings into which he had stumbled, by his own volition, however, — and following his brows he elevated his voice and repeated his question. Nezhdanoff gave a start. " Of course,"— he began, somewhat hurriedly; — " I . . . . accept . . . with pleasure . . . although I must confess . . . that I cannot avoid feeling some surprise ... as I have no recommendations . . . and, moreover, the very opinions which I expressed to you day before yesterday in the theatre ought rather to deter you " " On that point you are entirely mistaken, my dear Alexyei . . . Alexyei Dmitritch! I believe that is your name,"— remarked Sipyagin, display- ing his teeth. — " I, I venture to say, am known as a man of liberal, progressive convictions; and, on the contrary, your opinions, setting- aside everything about them which is peculiar to youth, which is inclined— do not take offence!— to a certain exaggeration,— those opinions of yours are not in the least antagonistic to my own 34) VIRGIN SOIL — and they even please me by their youthful fervour ! ' ' Sipyagin talked without the slightest hesita- tion: his round, fluent speech flowed like honey on oil. " My wife shares my manner of thought," — he went on: — "her views more nearly resemble yours, perhaps, than they do mine ; that is easily comprehensible: she is younger!— When, the other day, after our meeting, I read in the news- paper your name, which, I will remark, by-the- bye, contrary to general custom, was published, along with your address (I had already learned your name in the theatre ) , then . . it . . . that fact impressed me, I perceived in it — in that coinci- dence — a certain — pardon the superstition of the expression — a certain finger of Fate, so to speak!— You have alluded to recommendations; but I require no recommendations. — Your ap- pearance, your personality arouse my sympathy. That is enough for me. I have become accus- tomed to trust my eye. So — may I hope? You accept? " " I do .... of course " replied Nezhdanoff — " and I shall endeavour to justify your confi- dence. — Only, permit me to warn you, now, of one thing : I am ready to be your son's tutor, but not his governor. I am not capable of that — and I do not care to enslave myself ; I will not deprive myself of my freedom." 35 VIRGIN SOIL Sipyagin lightly waved his hand in the air, as though chasing away a fly. "Be at your ease, my dearest fellow. . . , You are not of the flour from which governors are baked;— and I do not want a governor. I am seeking a teacher— and I have found him. Well, and how about the terms — the pecuniary terms— the loathsome coin? " Nezhdanoff made an effort to say some- thing. ... " Listen,"— said Sipyagin, bending his whole body forward, and touching Nezhdanoff 's knee with the tips of his fingers in a caressing manner : — " among w^ell-bred people such questions are settled in two words. I offer you one hundred rubles a month; your travelling expenses there and back are, of course, paid by me. — Do you accept? " Again Nezhdanoff flushed crimson. " That is a great deal more than I had intended to ask .... because ... I ... ." " Very good, very good indeed . . . ." inter- rupted Sipyagin. . " I look upon this matter as settled . . . and on you— as a member of my family." — He rose from his chair, and suddenly grew very jolly and florid of manner, exactly as though he had received a gift. In all his move- ments a certain pleasant familiarity and even sportiveness made its appearance. " We shall set out in a few days,"— lie said, 86 VIRGIN SOIL in a free-and-easy tone: — " I love to welcome the spring in the country, although, by the nature of my occupation, I am a prosaic man, and chained to the town. . . . And therefore, permit me to consider your first month as beginning with to-day. My wife and son are already in Moscow. She has gone on ahead. We shall find them in the country .... in the lap of nature. You and I will travel together .... as bachelors . . . . he,he! "— Sipyagin laughed coquettishly and abruptly through his nose. — "And now . . . ." He pulled out of the pocket of his overcoat a silver pocket-book enamelled in black, and drew thence a card. " This is my present address. — Drop in — say to-morrow. That 's it . . . about twelve o'clock. We will discuss the matter further. I will make known to you certain ideas of mine in regard to education. . . . Well— and we will decide upon the day of our departure." — Sipyagin shook NezhdanofF's hand.—" And do you know what?" he added, lowering his voice and tilting his head on one side: — " If you require an ad- vance payment .... Please do not stand on cere- mony! take a month's salary in advance, if you like." NezhdanofF simply did not know what reply to make; and with the same bewilderment as be- fore, he gazed at the bright, courteous, and, at the same time, unfamiliar face which had ap- 37 VIRGIN SOIL proaclied so close to his own and was smiling at him in so gracious a manner. " You do not need it— hey? " whispered Si- pyagin. "If you will allow me, I will tell you that to-morrow," — articulated NezhdanofF, at last. " Capital! So— farewell for the present! Un- til to-morrow!"— Sipyagin released Nezhdanoff's hand, and was on the point of withdrawing " Permit me to ask you,"— said Nezhdanoff, suddenly,—" you have just told me that you learned my name in the theatre.— From whom did vou learn it? " " From whom?— Why, from one of your inti- mate acquaintances — and, apparently, a kinsman of 3^ours — Prince .... Prince G." " The Imperial- Adjutant? " " Yes, from him." NezhdanofF turned scarlet— worse than be- fore — and opened his mouth . . . but said nothing. Again Sipyagin shook his hand — only in silence this time — and, bowing first to him and then to Pakhlin, put on his hat just as he reached the door, and went out, wearing on his face a self- satisfied smile; it expressed a consciousness of the profound impression which his visit must have produced. 38 IV Before Sipyagin had fairly crossed the thresh- old, Pakhlin sprang from his chair, and rushing at NezhdanofF began to congratulate him. "What a sturgeon thou hast hooked!"— he kept repeating, snickering and kicking his feet about. — "Why, dost thou know who that is? The famous Sipyagin, Gentleman of the Im- perial Bedchamber — in a certain sense, a pillar of society, a future JMinister! " " He is totally unknown to me,"— said Nezh- danoff gruffly. Pakhlin made a gesture of despair. " That 's the trouble with us, Alexyei Dmi- tritch, that we know no one ! We want to act, we want to turn the whole world upside down, but we live apart from that same world, we associate only with two or three friends, we grind round and round in one spot, in a narrow circle. ..." "Excuse me," interposed NezhdanofF: "that is not true. We only decline to make acquaint- ance with our enemies; but with persons of our own stamp, with the masses, we enter into con- stant relations." "Stop, stop, stop, stop!" — interrupted Pa- 39 VIRGIN SOIL khlin, in his turn. — " In the first place, as to our enemies, permit me to recall to your mind Goethe's verse: Wer den Dichter will versteh"*!! Muss im Dichter*' s Lande geh"*!! . . , —and I say: Wer die Feinde will versteh'n Muss im Feindes lande geh'n. . . It is stupid to avoid one's enemies, not to know their habits and manner of life; — Stu . . pid! . . . Yes, yes ! If I wish to shoot a wolf in the forest I must know his lairs. ... In the second place, you just said, ' We enter into relations with the masses.' . . . My dear soul!— In 1862 the Poles went oiF ' to the forest ' — and now we are going ofP into the same forest, that is to say, the masses of the people, which for us are as dense and dark as any forest! " " Well, then, and what is to be done, according to thy opinion? " " The Indians fling themselves under the wheels of Juggernaut,"— continued Pakhlin, gloomily; — "it crushes them, and they die — in bliss. — We, also, have a Juggernaut of our own. . . It certainly crushes us, but it affords us no bliss." " So, then, what is to be done, in thy opinion? " — repeated NezhdanofF, almost in a shout. 40 VIRGIN SOIL " Write novels with a tendency?— is that what thou meanest? " Paklihn flung his hands apart and lolled his head on his left shoulder. " Thou mightest write novels— in any case — as thou possessest the literary vein. . . . Come, don't get angry, I won't do it again! I know thou dost not like to have people refer to that ; but I agree with thee : to compose such things, ' with stuffing,' and with new-fangled twists and turns: ' Akh ! I love you ! she ran up . . .' 'It makes no diff*erence to me, he scratched! ^— is any- thing but a cheerful matter!— Therefore, I re- peat: get into close relations with all classes, be- ginning with the highest! You cannot place your whole reliance on OstrodiimofFs ! They are honest, fine people— but, on the other hand, they are stupid ! stupid ! Just look at our friend. The very soles of his boots are not the sort that clever people have. Why, for instance, did he leave here a while ago? — He did not wish to remain in the same room, to breathe the same air with an aristocrat! " " I must request thee not to express thyself in that manner concerning OstrodiimoflP, in my presence," — Nezhdanoff caught him up vehe- mently.—" He wears thick boots, because they are cheap." " I did not mean it in that sense," — Pakhlin was beginning. . . . 41 VIRGIN SOIL " If he does not wish to remain in the same room with an aristocrat," — went on Nezhdanoff, raising his voice, — " I laud him for that; — but the chief thing of all is: he will know how to sacrifice himself — and, if necessary, he will go to his death, which is something that thou and I will never do ! " Pakhlin made a wry face, and pointed at his thin, deformed little legs. " How can I contend, my friend, Alexyei Dmitritch! — Good gracious! But setting all that aside I repeat : I am heartily glad of thine acquaintance with Mr. Sipyagin— and I even foresee great benefit from that acquaintance — for our affair. Thou wilt get into the higher circles! Thou wilt see those 'lionesses,' those women with bodies of velvet on steel springs, as it is expressed in ' Letters from Spain ' ; study them, brother, study them! If thou wert an epicurean, I should even be apprehensive on thy account ... I really should!— But surely thou art not taking a position as tutor with that aim m viewf " I am taking a position as tutor," — put in INTezhdanofF, — " in order to avoid starvation . . . And in order to get away from all of you for a time," — he added to himself. "Well, of course! of course! — Therefore, I say to thee : study ! But what an odour that gen- tleman has left behind him! " Pakhlin elevated 42 VIRGIN SOIL his nose in the air.—" That 's it, the genuine ' ambray ' of which the lady's-maid in ' The In- spector ' dreamed! " " He questioned Prince G. . . about me," — said NezhdanofF, in a dull tone, again huddling himself in the window: — "my entire history must be known to him, by this time." " Not ' must be,' but— certainly is! What of that?— I '11 bet you, that that is the very reason why he took it into his head to engage thee as teacher. Say what thou wilt, thou art certainly an aristocrat thyself — by blood. Well, and that is as much as to say: thine own master! But I have stayed too long with thee; it is high time I went to my office, to the exploiters! — Farewell for the present, brother!" Pakhlin started for the door, but halted, and turned back. "Hearken, Alyosha," — he said, in an insinuat- ing tone: — " a while ago, thou didst refuse me, — now thou wilt have money of thine own, I know, but nevertheless, allow me to contribute at least a trifle to the general cause! — I can aid in no other way, than through my pocket! See here: I place a ten-ruble note on the table! Is it ac- cepted? " Nezhdanoff made no reply, and did not move. "Silence gives consent! Thanks!" — cried Pakhlin merrily, and vanished. NezhdanofF was left alone He con- 43 VIRGIN SOIL tinued to stare through the window-pane at the gloomy, contracted courtyard, into which the rays even of the summer sun did not fall, and his face was gloomy also. Nezhdiinoff was born, as we already know, of Prince G., wealthy, an Imperial-Adjutant, and his daughter's governess, a pretty little graduate from a Government Institute school, who died on the day she gave him birth. Nezhdanoff had received his first education in the boarding- school of a Swiss, an active, severe pedagogue, and then he had entered the University. He himself had desired to become a jurist: — but the general, his father, who hated the nihilists, had set him at work " on aesthetics," as NezhdanofF expressed it, with a bitter smile, that is to say, in the historico-philological course. NezhdanofF's father saw him at most three or four times a year, but he took an interest in his fate— and, when he died, bequeathed him — " in memory of Nastenka " (his mother) — a capital of six thou- sand rubles, the interest on which, under the title of "pension," was paid to him by his brothers, the Princes G. — It was not for nothing that Pakhlin had called him an aristocrat; everything about him betrayed his high breeding: his small ears, hands, feet, his rather small but delicate features, his soft skin, his soft, abundant hair, his very voice, which was rather lisping but agreeable. He was frightfully nervous, frightfully egotis- 44 VIRGIN SOIL tical, impressionable, and even capricious; the false position, in which he had been placed from his very childhood, had developed in him quick- ness to take offence, and irritability; but innate magnanimity did not permit of his becoming sus- picious and distrustful. — That same false posi- tion of NezhdanofF also explains the contradic- tions which contended in his being. Neat to spruceness, squeamish to fastidiousness, he strove to be cynical, and coarse in language; an idealist by nature, passionate and chaste, bold and timid at one and the same time, he was ashamed, as of a disgraceful vice, both of his pas- sion and his chastity, and regarded it as his duty to jeer at ideals. He had a tender heart, and avoided people; he easily flew into a rage — and never cherished rancour. He was indignant with his father, because the latter had set him to work "at assthetics": he openly, in the sight of all men, busied himself exclusively with political and socialistic problems, professed the most ex- treme opinions— (in him, they were not mere phrases!) — and secretly enjoyed art, poetry, beauty in all its manifestations .... he even wrote verses himself. He carefully hid the note- book, in which he had transcribed them— and among his Petersburg friends, Pakhlin alone, and that owing to his fine scent, suspected its existence. Nothing so offended, so insulted NezhdanofF, as the slightest allusion to his verse- 45 VIRGIN SOIL writing, to this, as he regarded it, his unpardon- able weakness. Thanks to his Swiss teacher, he knew a multitude of facts, and was not afraid of toil ; he even liked to work in a somewhat fever- ish and inconsequent manner, to tell the truth. — His comrades loved him . . . they were attracted by his inward uprightness and kindliness and pur- ity; but NezhdanofF had not been born under a lucky star; he did not find life easy. He himself was profoundly conscious of this — and he recognised that he was solitarj^ despite the attachment of his friends. He continued to stand in front of the window — and reflected sadly and painfully about his impending journey, about the new, unexpected crisis in his fate. . . . He did not regret Peters- burg; he was not leaving behind him there any- thing especially dear to him; moreover, he knew that he was to return in the autumn. And, never- theless, he was beset with irresolution ; he experi- enced an involuntary dejection. "What sort of a teacher am I?" flashed through his mind; — "what sort of a peda- gogue? " — He was ready to reproach himself for having accepted the duties of an instructor. Nevertheless, such a reproach would Have been unjust. — Nezhdanofl" possessed sufficient knowl- edge — and, in spite of his uneven temper, chil- dren came to him without constraint — and he himself easily became attached to them. The 46 VIRGIN SOIL melancholy which had seized upon Nezhdanoff was that sensation peculiar to every change of place — a sensation which is experienced by all persons of melancholy temperament, all medita- tive people ; it is not known to persons of dashing, sanguine character; they are, rather, ready to rejoice when the every-day course of life is broken, when its habitual surroundings are changed. NezhdanofF became engrossed in his thoughts to such a degree that gradually, un- consciously, he began to put them into words ; the emotions which were fermenting within him were already ranging themselves in measured ca- dence "Phew! the devil!" he cried aloud.— "Ap- parently, I am on the verge of composing verses!" — He gave a start, and retreated from the window; catching sight of Pakhlin's ten-ruble note, which lay on the table, he stuffed it into his pocket, and set to striding up and down the room. " I must take some earnest-money," — he argued with himself ..." seeing that the gen- tleman offers it. — One hundred rubles . . . and from my brothers — from their Serenities, — one hundred rubles Fifty for my debt, fifty or seventy for the journey .... and the rest can go to Ostrodumoff. And here, too, what Pakhlin has given, he can have that also " While he was casting up these accounts in his 47 VIRGIN SOIL head — the former rhymes began again to stir within him. He paused, meditated .... and, tm'ning his eyes to one side, he became rooted to the spot Then his hands, as though guided by the sense of feehng, sought and opened the drawer of his table, drew forth from its very innermost depths a closely-written note- book. ..... He dropped into a chair, still never altering the direction of his gaze, took a pen, and puiTing to himself, now and then tossing back his hair, erasing, blotting, he began to jot down line after line The door of the anteroom was opened half- way—and Miss Mashurin's head made its ap- pearance. NezhdanofF did not notice it, and went on with his work. Miss Mashurin stared long and intently at him — and, shaking her head to right and left, beat a retreat. . . . But Nezhda- noff suddenly straightened himself up, glanced round, and saying, with vexation: "Ah! You!" — flung the note-book into the table-drawer. Then Miss Mashurin entered the room, with a firm tread. " OstrodiimofF has sent me to you," — she said, hesitatingly, — " in order to find out when he can have the money. — If you obtain it to-day, we will set out this evening." " It is impossible to get it to-day,"— rejoined 48 VIRGIN SOIL NezlidanofF, and knit his brows:— " come to- morrow." "At what time?" " At two o'clock." " Very well." Miss Mashurin said nothing for a while, then suddenly offered her hand to Nezhdanoif . . . . "I seem to have disturbed you; pardon me. And besides .... I am going away. Who knows whether we shall see each other again? I wished to bid you farewell." Nezhdanoff pressed her red, cold fingers. " You saw that gentleman here? "—he began. — " He and I have come to terms. I am going with him as tutor. His estate is in the Govern- ment of S., near S. itself." A joyful smile flashed over Miss Mashurin's face. "Near S.! Then, perhaps, we shall see each other again. Perhaps we shall be sent thither." —Miss Mashurin sighed.— "Akh, Alexyei Dmi- tritch " "What?"— asked Nezhdanoif. Miss IVIashurin assumed a concentrated mien. " Never mind.— Farewell! It is nothing." Again she pressed Nezhdanoff 's hand firmly, and withdrew. " There is no other person in all Petersburg, who is so attached to me as that queer woman! " thought Nezhdanoff to himself. " But VIRGIN SOIL why on earth did she disturb me? . . However, it is all for the best ! " On the morning of the following day, Nezhda- nofF betook himself to Sipyagin's city residence, and there, in a magnificent study, filled with fur- niture of a severe style, which fully accorded with the dignity of a liberal statesman and gen- tleman, seated in front of a huge desk, on which, in stately order, lay documents of no use what- ever, along with gigantic pajjer-knives of ivory, which had never cut anything,— he, for the space of a whole hour, listened to the free-thinking host, was drenched with the oil of his wise, affable, gracious speeches, received, at last, one hundred i-ubles as earnest -money, and, ten days later, that same NezhdanofF, half -reclining on a velvet divan, in a special compartment of a first-class railway carriage, side by side with that same wise, liberal statesman and gentleman, was whirling on toward Moscow over the jolting rails of the Nicholas railway. 50 In the drawing-room of a large stone house, with columns and a Grecian facade, built in the twenties of the nineteenth century, by the well- known agriculturist and " Danteist," ^ Sipya- gin's father, his wife, Valentina Mikliailovna, a very handsome lady, was every moment expect- ing the arrival of her husband, which had been announced by a telegram. — The furnishing of the drawing-room bore the imprint of the new- est, most delicate taste; everything in it was pretty and pleasing, everything, from the agreeable variety of the cretonne coverings and draperies to the diversified outlines of the porce- lain, bronze, and crystal trifles scattered about on the etageres and tables, everything stood out softly and harmoniously, and mingled with the merry rays of the May day, which streamed freelv through the windows that had been set ajar. The air of the drawing-room, permeated with the fragrance of lilies-of-the-valley (large bouquets of those wondrously-beautiful spring flowers gleamed white here and there) — barely stirred, now and then agitated by the entrance of ^ The epithet applied to the landed proprietors who (before the Eman- cipation) were accustomed to torture their serfs. — TiiANSLAToa. 51 VIRGIN SOIL a light breeze, which circled softly over the su- perbly laid-out garden. A charming picture ! And the mistress of the house, Valentina Mikhailovna Sipyagin, com- pleted the picture, imparted to it sense and life. She was a woman of lofty stature, thirty years of age, with dark chestnut hair, with a dark but fresh face of uniform hue, which reminded one of the countenance of the Sistine Madonna, and wonderful, deep, velvety eyes.— Her lips were rather broad and pale, her shoulders rather high, her hands rather large But, in spite of all this, any one who had beheld her, as she moved freely and gracefully about the drawing-room, now bending over the flowers her slender, slightly laced figure, and inhaling their odour with a smile, now altering the position of some Chinese vase, now swiftly adjusting, in front of the mirror, her shining hair, and slightly narrowing her marvel- lous eyes, — any one, we say, would have ex- claimed, to himself or even aloud, that he had never encountered so bewitching a creature! A pretty, curly-haired little boy, nine years of age, in a Scottish costume, with his little legs bare, lavishly pomaded and curled, ran headlong into the drawing-room, and came to a sudden halt at the sight of Valentina Mikhailovna. " What dost thou want, Kolya? "—she asked. — Her voice was as soft and velvety as her eyes. " This is what I want, mamma," — began the 52 VIRGIN SOIL little boy, with embarrassment, — " aunty sent me here .... she ordered me to bring her some lilies-of-the-valley .... for her room . . . she has none. ..." Valentina Mikhailovna took her little son by the chin, and raised his pomaded head. " Tell aunty, that she must send to the gar- dener for lilies-of-the-valley;— but these lilies be- long to me. . , I do not wish to have them touched. Tell her, that I do not like to have my rules broken. Wilt thou be able to repeat my words? " " Yes," .... whispered the boy. " Come, now — say them over." " I shall say .... I shall say . . . that thou wilt not let her." Valentina Mikhailovna broke into a laugh. — And her laugh, also, was soft. " I perceive that one cannot yet intrust any commissions to thee. Well, it makes no diiFer- ence, say whatever comes into thy head." The little boy bestowed a swift kiss on his mother's hand, all adorned with rings, and flew headlong thence. Valentina Mikhailovna followed him with her eyes, sighed, approached a cage of gilded wire, along whose walls, cautiously clutching with beak and claws, a small green parrakeet was climbing, and teased him with the tip of her finger; then she sank down on a small, low couch, 53 VIRGIN SOIL and taking from a small, round, carved table, the last number of the Revue des Deux Mondesi- she, began to turn over the leaves. A respectful cough made her look up. On the threshold of the door, stood a comely footman, in a livery coat, and white necktie. " What dost thou want, — Agafon? " inquired Valentina IMikhailovna, in the same soft voice as before. *' Semyon Petrovitch KallomyeitzefF has ar- rived, madam. Will you receive him? " "Ask him in; ask him in, of course. — And tell them to request IMarianna Vikentievna to come to the drawing-room." Valentina Mikhailovna flung the number of the Revue des Deuce Mondes on the table, — and, leaning against the back of the divan — rolled her eyes upward, and fell into meditation, — which was very becoming to her. From the manner alone in which Semyon Petrovitch Kallomyeitzefl", a young man, two and thirty years of age, entered the room, — uncon- strainedly, carelessly and wearily, — from the fact that, of a sudden, his face brightened up pleasantly, and he made his bow, a little to one side, and from the elastic manner in which he drew himself up afterward, from the manner in which he talked, not exactly through his nose, and yet not quite sweetly, — from the respectful way in which he took, the impressive way in 54 VIRGIN SOIL which he kissed, Valentina Mikhailovna's hand, — any one could have divined, that the newly-ar- rived visitor was not a resident of the rural dis- tricts, not a rural, accidental, although wealthy neighbour, but a genuine Petersburg " fashion- able " of the highest circles. — Moreover, he was clad in the very best English fashion: the flow- ered tip of his white batiste handkerchief stuck out, in a tiny triangle, from the flat side-pocket of his variegated jacket; from a rather broad black ribbon dangled a monocle; the dead-white hue of his suede gloves corresponded with the dead-grey colouring of his checked trousers. Mr. KallomyeitzefF's hair was closely cut, he was smoothly shaved; his somewhat feminine face, with its small e5^es set close together, with its thin, hooked nose, and its plump, red lips, ex- pressed the agreeable license of the highly-edu- cated nobleman. It exhaled courtesy . . . and very easily became malicious, even harsh ; all that was required was that some one or something should vex Semyon Petrovitch, should wound his conservative, patriotic and religious princi- ples,— oh! then he became pitiless! All his ele- gance instantaneously evaporated: — his tender eyes lighted up with an evil flame: — his hand- some little mouth emitted ugly words — and ap- pealed — with a shriek appealed to the authorities! Semyon Petrovitch's family was descended from plain market-gardeners. His great-grand- 55 VIRGIN SOIL father had been calle3, after the place of his ex- traction: Kolonicntzoff. . . But his grand- father had clianged himself into Kolomeitzeff ; his father had written it: Kallomeitzeff, and finally, Semyon Petrovitch, had inserted the character ye in the place of e, and seriously regarded him- self as a pure-blooded aristocrat; he was even wont to hint, that their family was really de- scended from the Barons Gallemeyer, one of whom had been an Austrian field-marshal in the Thirty Years' War. Semyon Petrovitch served in the Ministry of the Court, had the post of Ju- nior Gentleman of the Imperial Bedchamber; patriotism prevented his entering the diplomatic career, where, it appeared, he was constantly be- ing summoned; and his education, his habit of society, his success with women, and his very ap- pearance . . . mais quitter la Russie? — jamais! — KallomyeitzefF possessed a fine property, had influential connections; he bore the reputation of a trustworthy and devoted man — ^'^ un peu trop . . . feodal dans ses opinions" as the well-known Prince B., one of the lights of the Petersburg official world, expressed himself with regard to him. KallomyeitzefF had come to the Govern- ment of S. . . . on a two months' leave of ab- sence, in order to attend to matters on his estate — that is, " to frighten some, to crush down others." — For it is impossible to dispense with that! " I supposed that I should find Boris Andreiteh 56 VIRGIN SOIL here,"— he began, shifting amiably from one foot to the other, and suddenly glancing aside, in imi- tation of a very important personage. Valentina ^Mikhailovna slightly knit her brows : " Othei*wise you would not have come? " KallomyeitzefF fairly flung himself backward, so unjust did Madame Sipyagin's question ap- pear to him, and so absolutely absurd! "Valentina Mikhailovna! "— he exclaimed,— " upon my word, is it possible to suspect . . . ." "Very well, very well, sit down; Boris An- dreitch will be here directly. I have sent the calash to the station for him. Wait a little. . . . You will see him. What time is it now? " " Half -past two,"— replied KallomyeitzefF, drawing from his waistcoat pocket a large gold watch, adorned with enamel. He showed it to Madame Sipyagin.— " Have you seen my watch? It was given to me by Mikhail, you know .... the Servian Prince .... Obrenovitch. Here is his monogram,— look at it. He and I are great friends. We have hunted together. He 's a si)lendid young fellow! And he has a hand of iron, as a ruler should have. Oh, he is not fond of jesting! No-oo-oo!" KallomyeitzefF dropped into an arm-chair, crossed his legs, and began slowly to pull off his left glove. " We ought to have that sort of a Mikhail here, in our government." 57 VIRGIN SOIL " Why so? Are you discontented with any- thing? " KallomyeitzefF wrinkled up his nose. "It 's that county council, as usual! That county council! Where 's the use of it? It only weakens the administration, and arouses .... unnecessary ideas. . ." (KallomyeitzefF dan- gled his left hand, freed from the oppression of its glove, in the air.) " I have spoken about that in Petersburg .... mais, bah! The wind was not setting in that direction. Even your hus- band .... imagine! However, he is well known as a liberal." Madame Sipyagin straightened herself up on her little divan. "What? And you, Mr. KallomyeitzefF, do you ofFer opposition to the government?" "I? Opposition? Never! Not on any terms! Mais j'ai mon franc parler. I sometimes criti- cise, but I always submit! " " It is precisely the opposite with me! I do not criticise, and I do not submit." "Ah! mais, cest un mot! With your permis- sion, I will communicate your remark to my friend Ladislas; vous savez, he is making prepa- rations to write a romance of high life, and he has already read me several chapters. It will be charming! Nous aurons enfin le grand monde russe pcint par lui-meme." " Where is it to appear? " 58 VIRGIN SOIL " In the Russian Messenger, of course. That is our Revue des Deuce Mondes. I see that you read it." " Yes; but do you know, it is becoming very stupid." " Possibly .... possibly .... And the Russian Messenger also, if you like, for some time past — to speak in the current jargon — has been getting a wee bit groggy of late." KallomyeitzefF laughed at the top of his voice ; it struck him as very amusing to say " has been getting groggy," and " a wee bit."— '^ Mais, cest un journal qui se respecte!"—he went on, — " and that is the principal thing. I must in- form you that I . . . take very little interest in Russian literature; a lot of plebeians are cutting a figure in it nowadays. Things have come to such a pass, that the heroine of a ro- mance is— a plain cook, parole d'lionneur! But I shall read Ladislas's romance, without fail. II y aura le petit mot pour rire .... and its tendency! its tendency. The nihilists will be put to shame— my guarantee for that is Ladislas's turn of mmd—qui est tres correct/" " But not his past,"— remarked Madame Sipyagin. " Ah! jetons un voile sur les erreurs de sa jeu- nessef— exclaimed KallomyeitzefF, and drew off his right glove. 59 VIRGIN SOIL Again Madame Sipyagin frowned slightly. She coquetted a little with her wonderful eyes. " Semyon Petrovitch,"— she said,—" allow me to ask you, why, when you are talking Rus- sian, do you use so many French words? It seems to me that . . . pardon me . . . that is an old-fashioned style." " Why? why? Not every one possesses as capi- tal a command of his native tongue as you do. As for myself, I recognise the Russian lan- guage as the language of decrees and govern- mental ordinances; I prize its purity! I bow down before Karamzin! . . . But Russian, the every-day language, so to speak . . . Does it exist? Now, for example, how would you have translated mv exclamation — de tout a Vlieure: ' C'est un mot! ' That is a word ! . . . Good heavens! " " I would have said: ' that is a happy word.' " Kallomyeitzeff burst out laughing. "'A happy word!' Valentina Mikhailovna! But is it possible that you do not feel that that .... instantly reeks of the theological seminary? .... All the salt has vanished. . . ." " Well, you will not be able to convince me. But where is that Marianna? "— She rang* the bell ; a page entered. " I gave orders that Marianna Vikentievna should be requested to come to the drawing- room. Has she not been informed? " 60 VIRGIN SOIL Before the page could reply, there made her appearance, behind his back, on the threshold of the door, a young girl in a full, dark morning- gown, with her hair cut in a round crop— Ma- rianna Vikentievna Sinetzky, Madame Sipya- gin's niece on the mother's side. VI " Paedon me, Valentina Mikhailovna," — she said, approaching Madame Sipyagin, — " I was busy, and hngered too long." Then she bowed to KallomyeitzefF, and, with- drawing to one side, she seated herself on a small tabouret, neai' the parrakeet, which, as soon as it caught sight of her, began to flap its wings and stretch out its neck toward her. " Why hast thou seated thyself so far away, Marianna? " — remarked Madame Sipyagin, as she followed her with her eyes to the tabouret. — " Dost thou wish to be nearer to thy little friend? Just imagine, Semyon Petrovitch," — she turned to KallomyeitzefF, — " that parrot is simply in love with our Marianna " " That does not surprise me! " " And it cannot endure me." " That is astonishing! It must be that you tease it." " Never ; quite the contrary. I feed it with sugar. Only it will take nothing from my hands. No ... it is sympathy . . . and antipathy. . ." Marianna cast a sidelong glance at Madame Sipyagin . . . and Madame Sipyagin cast a glance at her. VIRGIN SOIL These two women did not love each other. In comparison with her aunt, JVIarianna might have been called almost " an ugly girl." She had a round face, a large, aquiline nose, grey eyes, which also were large, and very bright, slender brows, thin lips. She cut her chestnut hair short, and had an unsociable air. But from her whole being there emanated a strong and dar- ing, impetuous and passionate element. Her hands and feet were tiny ; her sturdily and supple little body reminded one of the Florentine statu- ettes of the sixteenth century; she walked grace- fully and lightly. Miss Sinetzky's position in Madame Sipya- gin's house was decidedly a painful one. Her father, a very clever and energetic man, of semi- Polish extraction, had attained to the rank of General in the service, but had suddenly come to grief, having been detected in a huge theft from the government funds; he had been tried . . condemned, deprived of his rank and his no- bility, and banished to Siberia. Then he had been pardoned . . and brought back; but he did not succeed in climbing up again, and died in extreme poverty. His wife, Sipyagin's own sister, the mother of Marianna (there were no children except herself), had not been able to bear up against the blow which had laid waste all her prosperity, and had died shortly after her husband. Uncle Sipyagin had given Marianna 63 VIRGIN SOIL an asylum in his own house.— But she loathed living the life of a dependent; she longed for freedom, with all the force of her unyielding soul— and an incessant, though concealed con- flict, seethed between her and her aunt. JNIadame Sipyagin regarded her as a nihilist and an atheist ; on her side, ^larianna hated Madame Sipyagin as her involuntary oppressor. She shunned her uncle, as she did every one else. — She shunned them,— tliat is precisely the word,— she did not fear them ; she had not a timid nature. " Antipathy," — repeated Kallomyeitzeff, — " yes, that is a strange thing. Everybody knows, for example, that I am a profoundly religious man, an Orthodox, in the fullest sense of the word ; but I cannot look at a priest's plait of hair, or his long locks, with equanimity ; something be- gins fairly to boil up within me, fairly to boil up." Thereupon, Kallomyeitzeff, raising his clenched fist a couple of times, even demonstrated how his feelings seethed in his breast. " Hair, in general, seems to annoy you, Semyon Petrovitch," — remarked Marianna:— *' I am convinced that you cannot look on with equanimity, either, when any one wears it cut short, as I do." Madame Sipyagin slowly elevated her eye- brows and bent her head, as though amazed at the freedom of manner, wherewith the young girls of the present day enter into the conversa- 64 VIRGIN SOIL tion,— and KallomyeitzefF displayed his teeth in a condescending smile. " Of course," — he remarked, — " I cannot but regret those lovely curls, like yours, JNIarianna Vikentievna, which fall under the pitiless blades of the shears; but there is no antipathy in me; and, in any case .... your example might .... might . . . convert me ! " KallomyeitzeiF could not hit upon the Russian word, — and he did not care to speak in French, after his hostess's remark, — so he said " conver- tiro vat." " Thank God, Marianna does not yet wear eye-glasses," — Madame Sipyagin joined in, — *' and she has not yet parted with her collars and cuffs: — on the other hand, she occupies herself with the natural sciences, to my sincere regret; and she takes an interest in the ques- tion of Woman . . . that is true, is it not, Marianna? " All this was said with the object of con- fusing JVIarianna; but she did not become con- fused. " Yes, aunty," — she replied, — " I read every- thing that is written on that subject; I try to understand in what that question consists." " That 's what it is to be young! " — Madame Sipyagin addressed herself to KallomyeitzefF:— " now, you and I do not busy ourselves with that, do we?— hey? " VIRGIN SOIL Kallomyeitzeff smiled sympathetically; one must, of course, keep up the jest of an amiable lady. " Marianna Vikentievna,"— he began,—" is still full of that idealism .... that romanti- cism of youth .... which .... in the course of time " " Plowever, I am maligning myself,"— Ma- dame Sipyagin interrupted him:—" Those ques- tions interest me also. For I am not so very old yet." " And I, also, take an interest in all that," — hastily exclaimed Kallomyeitzeff:- " only, I would prohibit discussion on that point! " " You would prohibit discussion on that point? "—Marianna asked. " Yes!— I would say to the public:—' I do not hinder your taking an interest . . but talk . . . ssshhhhh! ' "—He raised his finger to his lips.— " In any case, I would prohibit discussion in print! — unconditionally ! " Madame Sipyagin laughed. " Well? Don't you think that a commission should be appointed by the Ministry to settle that question ? " " A commission would answer very well. Do you think that M^e would settle the question any worse than all those starveling quill-drivers, who can see nothing beyond the end of their own noses, and imagine that they are . . . first-class 06 VIRGIN SOIL geniuses?— We would appoint Boris Andreitch chairman." Madame Sipyagin laughed more heartily than ever. " Look out, have a care ; Boris Andreitch is sometimes a Jacobin. ..." " Jacot, jacot, jacot! " chattered the parrot. Valentina Mikhailovna shook her handker- chief at it. " Don't prevent intelligent people from talk- ing! . . . Marianna, make it stop." Marianna turned to the cage, and began with her finger-nail to scratch the parrot's neck, which it immediately stretched out to her. " Yes," — pursued Madame Sipyagin, — " Boris Andreitch sometimes amazes even me. He has a touch, ... a touch ... of the trib- une, about him." " C'est pai'ce quil est orateur! ^^— hotly put in KallomyeitzeiF, in French. — " Your husband possesses the gift of eloquence beyond all others, and he has become accustomed to dazzle .... ses propres paroles le grisent .... and, in addi- tion, there is the desire for popularity .... However, he is somewhat in a bad humour, is he not? Ilhoude? Eh?" Madame Sipyagin turned her eyes on Mari- anna. " I have noticed nothing of the sort," — she said, after a brief pause. 67 VIRGIN SOIL " Yes," — went on Kallomyeitzeif , in a medita- tive tone, — " he was rather passed over at Easter." ' Again JNIadame Sipyagin directed his atten- tion to JNIarianna, with her eyes. KallomyeitzefF smiled and screwed up his eyes, as much as to say: — " I understand." " Marianna Vikentievna! " — he suddenly ex- claimed, in an unnecessarily loud tone; — "do you intend to give lessons in the school again this year? " JNIarianna turned away from the cage. " And do you take an interest in that? Se- myon Petrovitch ? " " Of course; I even take a very great interest m it. " You would not prohibit that? " " I would prohibit the nihilists even think- ing of schools; but, under the guidance of the priesthood, and with proper supervision over the priesthood, — I would establish them my- self! " " Would you really! Well, I do not know what I shall do this year. Everything went so badly last year. — And what is the school in sum- mer, anyway? " When Marianna spoke she gradually flushed, as though her speech cost her an eiFort, as though 1 That is, received no promotion or order — or something less than his expectations. — Tbanslator. 68 VIRGIN SOIL she were forcing herself to go on with it. She had a great deal of pride. "Thou art not sufficiently prepared? "—in- quired Madame Sipyagin, with an ironical tremor in her voice. " Possibly." " What! "—exclaimed KallomyeitzefF, again. — " What do I hear! O ye gods! In order to teach little peasant girls their a b cs, training is requisite? " But at that moment Kolya rushed into the drawing-room with a shout: "Mamma! mam- ma! papa is coming! " and behind him, waddling on her fat legs, a grey-haired woman in a mob cap and a yellow shawl made her appearance— and also announced that Borinka would be there directly. This lady was Sipyagin's aunt, Anna Zakha- rovna by name. — All the persons in the drawing- room sprang from their seats, and hastened into the anteroom, and thence ran down the steps upon the principal j^orch. A long avenue of chpped fir-trees led from the highway straight to this porch: along it an open carriage, drawn by four horses, was already rolling. — Valentina Mikhailovna, who stood in advance of the rest, waved her handkerchief. Kolya screamed shrilly ; the coachman adroitly drew up the smoking horses, the footman flew head over heels from the box, and came near tearing the carriage-door out 69 VIRGIN SOIL with its hinges and lock— and then, with a gra- cious smile on his lips, in his eyes, over all his face, flinging off his cloak with a dexterous movement of the shoulders, Boris Andreitch alighted on the ground. Valentina Mikhailovna flung her arms around his neck gracefully and swiftly — and they exchanged three kisses. Kolya danced up and down, and tugged at the tails of his father's coat from behind .... but the lat- ter first kissed Anna Zakharovna, having pre- liminarily removed his extremely uncomforta- ble and hideous Scotch travelling cap from his head; then he exchanged greetings with Mari- anna and Kallomyeitzeff, who had also come out on the porch— (to Kallomyeitzeff he gave a hearty English handshake, " pump-handle fash- ion " — as though he were ringing a bell) — and only then did he turn to his son; he shook him under the armpits, lifted him up, and held him close to his face. While all this was taking place, Nezhdanoff crawled quietly, and like a culprit, out of the car- riage, and stopped short beside the front wheel, without taking off his hat, and casting sidelong glances Valentina Mikhailovna, having embraced her husband, darted a keen glance over his shoulder at this new figure;— Sipyagin had informed her that he would bring a tutor with him. Continuing to exchange greetings and hand- 70 VIRGIN SOIL clasps, the whole party moved up the steps, along both sides of which the men and maid-servants were ranged in rows. — They did not approach to kiss their master's hand — that " Asiatic custom " had long since been done away with — and merely bowed respectfully; but Sipyagin replied to their bows more with his brows and his nose than with his head. NezhdanofF also made his way up the broad steps. As soon as he entered the anteroom, Sipyagin, who had already been seeking him with his eyes, introduced him to his wife, to Anna Zaldiarovna, and to Marianna; but to Kolya he said: " This is thy teacher, I beg that thou wilt be obedient to him! Give him thy hand! " — Ko- lya timidly offered his hand to XezhdanofF, then riveted his eyes on him; but evidently, not find- ing in him anything particular or agreeable, he again seized hold of his " papa." — NezhdanofF felt awkward, exactly as he had in the theatre. He wore an old, decidedly unsightly overcoat; the dust of the road had settled all over his face and hands. — Valentina Mikhailovna said some- thing pleasant to him; but he did not clearly distinguish her words, and made no reply, merely noticing, that she gazed at her husband with peculiar brilliancy, and pressed close to him. — He was displeased by Kolya's curled and po- maded locks; at the sight of KallomyeitzefF he thought: "What a smoothly-licked phiz!"— and n VIRGIN SOIL to the other persons he paid no attention what- ever. Sipyagin turned his head around with dignity, a couple of times, as though taking a survey of his penates, during which operation, his long, pendulous side-whiskers and his thick, small nape stood out with special distinctness. — Then, in a strong, luscious voice, which had not been rendered in the least hoarse by the journey, he called to one of the lackeys: " Ivan! Con- duct Mr. Teacher to the green chamber, and carry his trunk up there also " — and he an- nounced to Nezhdanoff, that he might now rest and get unpacked and cleaned up— and that dinner was served in their house promptly at five o'clock. Nezhdanoff bowed, and followed Ivan to the " green " room, which was situated in the second story. The whole company went into the drawing- room. There the greetings were repeated once more; — the half -blind old nurse made her ap- pearance with a reverence. Out of respect to her age, Sipyagin allowed her to kiss his hand, and excusing himself to KallomyeitzefF, with- drew into his bedroom, accompanied by his wife. 72 VII The clean and spacious chamber, to which the servant conducted Nezhdanoff, had windows which gave upon the garden. They were open, and a Hght breeze was gently puffing out the white shades: they bellied out like sails rising and then falling again. Athwart the ceiling golden reflections slipped softly: a spring-like fresh, and rather damp odour filled the whole room. — Nezhdanoff began by dismissing the servant, unpacking his things from his trunk, washing and dressing himself. The journey had exhausted him; the constant presence, for two whole daj^s, of a strange man, — with whom he had talked a great deal, on various subjects, and fruitlessly, — had irritated his nerves: something bitter, which was not exactly tedium, nor yet exactly malice, had secretly made its way to the very dej)ths of his being ; he was enraged at his f aint-heartedness —but still his heart ached. He went to the window, and began to gaze into the garden. It was one of the black-loam gardens of our great-grandfathers, such as are not to be seen this side of IVIoscow.— Laid out on the long slope of a steep hill, it consisted of four 73 VIRGIN SOIL clearly-defined sections. In front of the house, for a couple of hundred paces, extended a flower- garden, with straight, sanded paths, clumps of acacias and lilacs, and circular "flower-plots"; on the left, running past the stable-yard, to the very threshing-floor, stretched the fruit-orchard, thickly planted with apple-, pear-, and plum-trees, currant-bushes and raspberry-bushes; directly opposite the house, in a huge, dense square, rose intersecting linden alleys. On the right, the view was bounded by the highway, screened by a double row of silvery poplars; from behind the cluster of weeping birches the steep roof of a hot- house was visible. The whole garden was clothed with the tender verdure of the first beauty of the spring blossoming forth; the powerful summer humming of the insects was not yet to be heard ; the young leaves were lisping, — and finches were singing somewhere about, and a couple of turtle- doves kept cooing always on the same tree, while a cuckoo was uttering its note, and changing its place every time; and far away, from be- yond the mill-pond, there was wafted the vehement croaking of the daws, resembling the creaking of a multitude of cart-wheels. And over all this young, solitary, quiet life floated the bright clouds, swelling out their breasts like huge, lazy birds. — NezhdanoiF gazed and lis- tened, inhaling the air through his parted, chilled lips. . . . 74 VIRGIN SOIL And he seemed to feel more at ease; silence descended upon him also. And, in the meantime, down-stairs, a conver- sation was in progress about him. Sipyagin was telling his wife how he had made his acquaint- ance, and what Prince G. had said to him, and what conversations they had indulged in during the journey. " A clever head! " — he repeated, — " and with knowledge; he is handsome, it is true, but thou knowest that that counts for nothing with me; at all events, those people have ambition. Yes, and Kolya is too young; he will not acquire any folly from him." Valentina Mikhailovna listened to her husband with an affectionate and, at the same time, a sneering smile, as though he were making confes- sion to her of a rather strange but amusing prank; she even seemed to find it pleasant that her " seigneur et maitre" so steady a man and so important an official, was still capable of sud- denly taking and plajdng a prank, just as though he had been twenty years of age. As he stood before the mirror, in a snow-white shirt and sky-blue suspenders, Sipyagin began to brush his hair in the English fashion, with two brushes ; — and Valentina Mikliailovna, tucking her feet up under her on the low Turkish divan, began to impart to him a variety of information concern- ing the household management, the paper fac- 75 VIRGIN SOIL tory, which, alas! was not thriving as it should, ahout the cook, who must be changed, about the church, whose plaster had tumbled down, about IMarianna, about Kallomyeitzeff. . . . Unfeigned confidence and concord reigned be- tween the married pair; they actually lived "in love and concord," as the expression used to run in the olden days; and when Sipyagin, having completed his toilet, gallantly asked Valentina INIikhailovna for her " little hand," when she gave him both hands, and looked on with tender pride, as he kissed them alternately,— the feeling which was expressed on the countenances of both was a good and upright feeling, although in her case it shone in eyes worthy of Raphael, and in his in the plain " peepers " of a general. Precisely at five o'clock Nezhdanoff went down-stairs to dinner, apprised not even by the sound of a bell, but by the prolonged roar of a Chinese gong. The whole company was already assembled in the dining-room. Sipyagin again greeted him from the heights of his neck-cloth, and pointed out his place at table, between Anna Zakharovna and Kolya. Anna Zakharovna was a very aged spinster, the sister of the deceased Sipyagin, senior; she emitted an odour of cam- phor, like a garment which has long been packed awaj% and she had an uneasy and dejected aspect. She fulfilled in the house the office of Kolya's valet, or governor; her wrinkled face expressed 76 VIRGIN SOIL discontent when Nezhdanoff was seated between Iier and her nursHng. Kolya cast a sidelong glance at his new neighbour; the clever boy speedily divined that the teacher felt awkward, that he was confused ; and the latter never raised his eyes, and ate almost nothing. This pleased Kolya ; up to that moment, he had been afraid that the teacher would turn out stern and irascible. Valentina Mikhailovna also glanced, from time to time, at NezhdanofF. " He looks like a student,"— she said to herself, — " and he has not lived in societj^; but he has an interesting face, and hair of an original colour, like that of the apostle whom the old Italian mas- ters always painted as red-haired, — and clean hands." However, all the people at the table looked at NezhdanofF, and were considerate of him, so to speak, leaving him in peace, at the out- set; he was conscious of this, and was gratified at it, and, at the same time, for some reason or other, it made him angry. The conversation at table M'as conducted by KallomyeitzefF and Si- pyagin. The discussion turned on the county council, the Governor, the peasants' obligation to furnish posting-horses, the land-redemption agree- ments, mutual acquaintances in Petersburg and Moscow, the Lyceum of Mr. KatkofF, which had just entered into operation, the difficulty of ob- taining labourers, fines and damages to grain- fields by grazing cattle, and also about Bismarck, 77 VIRGIN SOIL about the war of '66, and about Napoleon III, whom KallomyeitzefF pronounced to be a gallant fellow. The young Gentleman of the Imperial Bedchamber expressed extremely retrograde opinions : he talked so much that, at last, he quoted — jestingly, it is true — the toast of a landed- proprietor of his acquaintance at a certain Name- day banquet: "I drink to the only principles which I recognise as valid," this excited squire had exclaimed: " to the knout and to Roederer! " Valentina Mikhailovna frowned, and re- marked at this quotation — '^'^ de tres mauvais gout." — Sipyagin, on the contrary, expressed extremely liberal opinions ; he politely and rather negligently confuted KallomyeitzefF; he even mocked at him. "Your alarms on the score of the emancipation, my dear Semyon Petrovitch," — he said to him, among other things, — " remind me of a memorial which our most respected and most amiable Alex- yei Ivanitch TveritinoiF sent in 1860, and which he read everywhere in the Petersburg drawing- rooms. It contained one particularly fine phrase about how our emancipated peasant would in- fallibly march, torch in hand, over the face of the entire fatherland. You ought to have seen how our dearest Alexyei Ivanitch, puffing out his little cheeks, and with his little eyes popping out of his head, uttered with his infantile mouth : ' a torch ! a torch ! he will march with a torch ! ' 78 VIRGIN SOIL Well, and the emancipation has been accom- plished. . . . But where is the peasant with his torch?" " TveritinofF," — retorted Kallomyeitzeff, in a gloomy tone, — " was mistaken only on this point, that it is not the peasants, but other people, who are going about with torches." At these words Nezhdanoff, who up to that moment had hardly noticed Marianna, — she was sitting obliquely opposite him,— suddenly ex- changed a glance with her, and immediately felt that they two, the sullen girl and himself, were of one mind and one stamp. She had made no impression whatever upon him when Sij^yagin had introduced him to her; why had he now ex- changed glances precisely with her? He imme- diately put the question to himself: Was it not shameful, was it not disgraceful to sit and listen to such opinions, and not to protest, and to give, by one's silence, occasion to think that one shared them? Nezhdanoff cast a second glance at Mari- anna, and it seemed to him that in her eyes he read the answer to his question: " Wait; the time has not yet come ... it is not worth while .... later there will be plenty of opportunity. . . ." It was pleasant to him to think that she under- stood him. Again he began to lend an ear to the conversation. . . . Valentina Mikhailovna came to her husband's support, and expressed herself even more freely, in an even more radical manner 79 VIRGIN SOIL than he had done. She did not comprehend, " positively she did not com . . . pre .... hend," how a young and well-educated man could cling to such an antiquated routine ! " But," — she added, — " I am convinced that you only say that for the sake of making a fine phrase. As for jou, Alexyei Dmitritch," — she turned to NezhdanoiF with an amiable smile (he was inwardly amazed that she should be ac- quainted with his name and patronym), — "I know that you do not share the apprehensions of Semyon Petrovitch; Boris has communicated to me your conversations with him on the journey." Nezhdanoff crimsoned, bent over his plate, and muttered something unintelligible: he was not exactly abashed, but he was not accustomed to bandying repartee with such brilliant personages. Madame Sipyagin continued to smile upon him; her husband graciously seconded her. . . On the other hand, KallomyeitzefF, with much delibera- tion, stuck his round eye-glass between his eye- brow and his nose, and stared at the student who dared not state his " apprehensions." — But it was difficult to disconcert Nezhdanoff in that way; on the contrary: he immediately straightened him- self up and stared, in his turn, at the fashionable official; — and just as suddenly as he had felt a comrade in Marianna, did he divine an enemy in Kallomyeitzeff ! And Kallomyeitzeff divined it also ; he dropped his little piece of glass, turned 80 VIRGIN SOIL away, and tried to turn it off with a laugh . . . but it was not a success ; only Anna Zakharovna, who secretly adored him, mentally stood on his side, and became still more enraged at her un- invited neighbour, who had separated her from Kolya. Soon afterward the dinner came to an end. The company passed out on the terrace to drink coffee; Sipyagin and Kallomyeitzeff lighted cigars. Sipyagin offered a genuine regalia to Xezhdanoff , but the latter declined it. "Akh! yes!" — exclaimed Sipyagin; "I had forgotten: — you smoke only cigarettes! " " A strange taste," — observed Kallomyeitzeff, between his teeth. Nezhdanoff came near flying into a passion. — " I know the difference between a regalia and a cigarette very well, but I do not wish to lay my- self under obligations," — was on the point of bursting from his tongue. . . . He restrained himself ; but he immediately set down this second piece of impertinence to the " debit " account of his enemy. "Marianna!" said Madame Sipyagin sud- denly, in a loud voice: — " do not stand on cere- mony before the newcomer . . . light up thy lit- tle cigarette, for heaven's sake! The more so," — she added, addressing Nezhdanoff, — " as I have heard, all the young ladies smoke in your sphere of society." 81 VIRGIN SOIL " Just so, madame," replied Nezhdanoff , drily. — This was the first word he had uttered to Ma- dame Sipyagin. " But I do not smoke,"— she went on, amiably narrowing her velvety eyes. . . " I am behind the times." iSIarianna slowly and with much precision, as though with the object of enraging her aunt, drew out a dainty cigarette and a match- box, and began to smoke. Nezhdanoff also ligthed a cigarette, borrowing a light from Marianna. It was a wonderfully beautiful evening. Kolya went off into the garden with Anna Za- kharovna; the remainder of the party remained for about an hour longer on the terrace, enjoying the air. The conversation progressed in a toler- ably lively manner. . . . KallomyeitzefF made an attack on literature; in this direction, also, Si- pyagin showed himself to be a liberal, defended its independence, demonstrated its value, even al- luded to Chateaubriand, and to the fact that the Emperor Alexander Pavlovitch had conferred upon him the Order of Saint Andrew the First- Called.^ Nezhdanoff did not intermeddle in this controversy. JMadame Sipyagin regarded him with an expression which seemed to indicate, on the one hand, that she approved his modest self- ^ Usually conferred only upon male members of the Imperial Family, and on a few foreign rulers, almost exclusively royal.— Translator. 82 VIRGIN SOIL restraint, and on the other hand— was a little sur- prised at it. They all went into the drawing-room for tea. " We have a very bad habit in our house, Alex- yei Dmitritch,"— said Sipyagin to NezhdanofF: " in the evening we play cards, and a forbidden game at that .... slam, — just fancy!— I do not invite you .... but Marianna will be so good as to play something for us on the piano. For you are fond of music, I hope, are you not? " And, without waiting for an answer, Sipyagin took the pack of cards in his hand. Marianna seated herself at the piano and played, neither well nor badly, several of Mendelssohn's " Songs without Words." — " Chai'mant! Cliarmant! Quel touclie! " cried KallomyeitzefF from a dis- tance, as though scalded; but this exclamation was uttered chiefly out of politeness; and Nezh- danofF, despite the hope expressed by Sipyagin, had no liking whatever for music. In the meantime, Sipyagin, with his wife, Kal- lomyeitzeff , and Anna Zakharovna, sat down to play cards. . . Kolya came to say good-night, and having received his parents' blessing, and a big glass of milk instead of tea, went off to bed ; his father shouted after him, that he was to begin his lessons with Alexyei Dmitritch on the morrow. A little later, perceiving that NezhdanofF was hanging about unoccupied in the middle of the room, and constrainedly turning over the leaves 83 VIRGIN SOIL of the photograph-album, Sipyagin told him not to stand on ceremonj^ but to go to his own room and rest, as he was probably fatigued with the journey; that the principal motto in their house was: liberty. Nezhdanoff availed himself of the permission and, after making his bow to them all, he left the room ; at the door he came face to face with JNIari- anna, and on looking her once more in the eye, once more he became convinced that he and she w^ould be good comrades, although she not only did not smile at him, but even contracted her brows. He found his room completely filled with the fragrant freshness; the windows had stood open all day long. In the garden, directly opposite his windows, a nightingale was trilling softly and melodiously; the nocturnal sky beamed dim and warm with beauty above the crests of the linden- trees ; the moon was on the verge of rising. Nezh- danoff lighted a candle ; the grey nocturnal moths fairly showered in from the dark garden and made for the light, circling round, and coming into collision with one another, but the breeze blew them awaj'-, and made the bluish-yellow flame of the candle flicker. "It is strange!" thought Nezhdanoff, as he got into bed. ..." The master and mistress of the house are nice people, apparently, liberal, even humane; .... but I feel sad in my soul, somehow. An Imperial Chamberlain, .... a 84 VIRGIN SOIL Gentleman of the Emperor's Bedchamber. . . . Well, the morning is wiser than the evening. . . . There 's no occasion for growing sentimental." But at that moment the watchman beat loudly and persistently on his plank in the garden— and his long-drawn shout rang out: "Lis . . te . e . . en! " " Wa-a-a-atch ! " — responded another mourn- ful voice. " Phew, great God!— exactly as though it were a fortress ! " VIII Nezhdanoff awoke early, and without waiting for the servant to make his appearance, he dressed himself, and descended into the garden. It was very large and beautiful, and was kept in capi- tal order ; hired labourers were scraping the paths with spades; amid the dark-green of the shrub- bery flashed scarlet kerchiefs on the heads of peasant lasses armed with rakes. NezhdanoiF made his way to the pond ; the morning mist had cleared away from it,— but it was still smoking in places in the shady curves of the shores. The sun, which was not high yet, cast a rosy light over the silky leaden hue of its broad surface. Five carpenters were at work on the dam; there also, lightly swaying from side to side, and sending out from itself a faint ripple across the water, a new, handsomely painted boat was rocking. The sounds of the people's voices were infrequent and repressed; over all there was a breath of morning, of the tranquillity and success of ma- tutinal labour, a breath of order and a regularly organised life. And lo! at a turn of the avenue, the 2)ersonification of order and regularity pre- sented itself to Nezhdanoif— Sipyagin himself made his appearance. He wore a yellow-grey 86 VIRGIN SOIL coat, in form like a dressing-gown, and a party- coloured cap ; he was leaning on an English cane of bamboo, and his freshly-shaved face exhaled satisfaction; he was walking about to inspect his domain. Sipyagin gave NezhdanofF a courteous greeting. "Alia! " — he exclaimed; — " I perceive that you are one of the young people, and an early bird! " He probably wished, by this not particularly ap- propriate saying, to express his approval of Nezh- danoiF, because the latter, like himself, did not lie late in bed. — "We drink tea in company at eight o'clock, in the dining-room, and at twelve o'clock, we breakfast ; at ten o'clock, you will give Kolya his first lesson in the Russian language, and at two, in history. To-morrow, the ninth of May, is his Name-day, and there will be no les- sons; but I beg that you will begin to-day! " NezhdanoiF inclined his head, and Sipyagin took leave of liim in the French manner, raising his hand swiftly several times in succession to his own lips and nose — and went his way, adroitly flourishing his cane, and whistling— not in the least like an important official or dignitary, — but like a kindly Russian country gentleman. NezhdanofF remained in the garden until eight o'clock, enjoying the shade of the ancient trees, the freshness of the air, the singing of the birds ; the roar of the gong summoned him to the house —and he found the whole company in the dining- 87 VIRGIN SOIL room. Valentina Mikhailovna treated him in an extremely amiable manner; in her morning toi- let she seemed to him a perfect beauty. Mari- anna's face expressed her wonted concentration and surliness. Precisely at ten o'clock the first lesson took place, in the presence of Valentina INIikhailovna ; she first inquired of NezhdanofF whether she would not be in the way, and she behaved very discreetly throughout. Kolya proved to be an intelligent lad; after the inevit- able first hesitations and awkwardnesses, the les- son proceeded successfully. Valentina INIildiai- lovna appeared to be extremely well satisfied with NezhdanofF, and several times entered into con- versation with him.— He hung back, but not too much. Valentina Mikhailovna was present, also, at the second lesson in Russian history. She an- nounced with a smile, that on that subject she needed a teacher as much as Kolya did— and be- haved herself as decorously and as quietly as at the first lesson. From three until five o'clock Nezhdanoff sat in his own chamber, wrote letters to Petersburg, and — and felt himself . . . so-so; he was not bored, he was not sad; his strained nerves were gradually relaxing. They became strained again during dinner, although Kallo- myeitzeff was absent, and the caressing kindness of the hostess had undergone no change ; but that very kindness somewhat enraged Nezhdanoff.— In addition to this, his neighbour, the old spinster, 88 VIRGIN SOIL Anna Zakharovna, was openly hostile and in the sulks, while Marianna continued to be serious, and Kolya kicked him with his feet with alto- gether too much lack of ceremony. Sipyagin, also, appeared to be out of sorts. He was greatly dissatisfied with the superintendent of his paper- factory, a German, whom he had hired at a large salary. Sipyagin began to abuse all Germans in general, in which connection he announced that he was, to a certain degree, a Slavyanophil, al- though not a fanatic, and he alluded to a young Russian, a certain Solomin, who, according to report, had put the factory of a neighbouring merchant on a very good footing; he greatly de- sired to make the acquaintance of this Solomin. Toward evening, Kallomyeitzeff arrived, his es- tate being only ten miles distant from " Ar- zhanoe " ; that was the name of Sipyagin's vil- lage. The arbitrator of the peace arrived also, one of those landed proprietors whom Lermon- toff has no neatly characterised in the two famil- iar lines : All hidden in his neckcloth, with frock-coat to his heels. • . Moustache, falsetto — and troubled gaze. There came also another neighbour, with a de- jected, toothless countenance, but very cleanly dressed ; the district doctor came, a very wretched physician, who was fond of showing off his 89 VIRGIN SOIL learned terminology; he asserted, for example, that he preferred Kukolnik to Pushkin, because Kukolnik had a great deal of " protoplasm." They sat down to play slam. Nezhdanoff retired to his own room— and read and wrote until after midnight. On the following day, the ninth of May, Kolya's Name-day was celebrated. The " gen- try," in a mass, in three open carriages, wdth lack- eys on the foot-board, set out to attend the Lit- urgy, although the church was not more tlian a quarter of a verst away. Everything went off in very ceremonious, stately, and sumptuous style. Sipyagin donned his Order-ribbon; Valentma INIikhailovna dressed herself in a very charming Paris gown— pale lilac in hue— and in church, during the service, she prayed out of a tiny book, bound in crimson velvet; this little book took some of the old men aback ; one of them could not control himself, and inquired of his neighbour: " Is she practising witchcraft, the Lord forgive her! " ^ The fragrance of the flowers with which the church w^as filled, mingled with the strong scent of the new sulphur-dipped peasant coats, the tarred boots and peasants' shoes— and over all these exhalations the stiflingly-agreeable per- fume of the incense predominated. The clerics and sacristans in the chancel-choirs sang with 1 The members of the Eastern Catholic Church do not use prayer-books, being trained to know the services by heart from early childhood. — Teakslatob. 90 VIRGIN SOIL wonderful assiduity. With the aid of the factory- hands, who had joined them, they even made a bold attempt at a concert.^ There was a minute when all present felt rather .... apprehensive. The tenor voice (it belonged to the factory-hand Klim,a man with the worst form of consumption) emitted, without any sort of support whatever, chromatic, minor, and flat notes:— they were hor- rible, those notes! but if they had been elimin- ated the entire " concert " would instantly have gone to pieces. . . . As it was, the affair passed oiF well enough. Father Kyprian, a priest of the most venerable appearance, with epigonation and berretta ^ preached a very edifying sermon out of his note-book; unliappily, the zealous father con- sidered it necessary to quote the names of several very wise Assyrian kings, which gave him great trouble as to pronunciation — and, although he displayed a certain amount of learning, still he also perspired violently! NezhdanofF, who had not been to church for a long time, tucked himself away in a corner behind the peasant women; they merely gazed askance at him, ^ At a certain point in the Liturgy — when the clergy are re- ceiving the Sacrament in the altar, behind the closed doors of the ikonostasis, and nothing is in progress in the sight or hearing of the congregation — it is customary for the choir to sing an elabo- rate selection, generally called a " concert." — Translator. 2 Both are insignia of ecclesiastical rank. The epigonation is a square or diamond-shaped piece of material corresponding to the cope, representing "the sword of the Spirit," and is worn on the hijx The berretta, of purple velvet, also has two shapes, indicative of rank, the lesser being conical. — Translator. 91 VIRGIN SOIL from time to time, making profound reverences, and gravely wiping their children's noses; on the other hand, the little peasant girls, in their new frocks, with pearl fringes on their brows, and the little boys, in their blouses girt about the waist, and their embroidered shoulder-seams and scarlet gussets, attentively scrutinised the new worship- per, turning their faces straight toward him. . . , And NezhdanofF gazed at them, and thought — various things. After the Liturgy, which lasted a very long time, and the prayer-service to St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, which, as every one knows, is about the most lengthy of all the prayer-services in the Orthodox Church, the entire staff of clergy, by invitation of Sipyagin, betook them- selves to the manor-house, and, after performing several more ceremonies befitting the occasion, and even sprinkling the rooms with holy water, received an abundant breakfast, in the course of which the customary hopeful but rather tiresome conversation took place. Both the host and the hostess — although they never breakfasted at that hour of the day — ate a little and sipped a little on that occasion. Sipyagin even narrated an anecdote, perfectly decorous, but laughable — which, in combination with his red ribbon and his official dignity, produced an impression that may be described as joyous, and aroused in Father Kyprian a feeling of gratitude and admiration. 92 VIRGIN SOIL By way of " recompense," and also in order to show that he also, on occasion, could impart some- thing curious, Father Kyprian told about his in- terview with " the prelate," when the latter, in his trip of inspection through the diocese, sum- moned all the priests of the district to him to the monastery in the town. — " Our Bishop is strict, very strict," — declared Father Kyprian: — " First he inquires about the parish and the arrangement of affairs, and then he puts you through an exam- ination. . . . He addressed himself to me, also. —'What 's thy church feast? '—' The Trans- figuration of the Lord,' says I. — ' And dost thou know the hymn for that day? ' — 'I should think I did! '-'Chant it! '-'Well, so I immediately started up: "Thou wast transfigured on the Mount, O Christ our God. . . ." ' ' Stop! What is the Transfiguration, and how is it to be understood?' — 'In one word,' says I, 'Christ desired to show his glory to his ' disciples ! ' — 'Good,' savs he; 'here's an ikona for thee from me, as a souvenir.' — I bowed to his feet. — 'I thank thee, Right Reverence!' says I. . . And so I did not leave him empty- handed." " I have the honour to be personally acquainted with his Right Reverence,"— remarked Sipyagin, with an air of importance. — " A most worthy pastor! " "Most worthy!" — assented Father Kyprian. 93 VIRGIN SOIL " Only, there 's no use in his trusting too much to the ecclesiastical superintendent. . . ." Valentina JNIikhailovna alluded to the peasant school, and in this connection, pointed out Mari- anna as a future teacher; the deacon (he was intrusted with the oversight of the school) ;— a man of athletic build, and with a long, wavy head of hair, which dimly suggested the well-combed tail of an Orloff trotter, was on the point of ex- pressing his approbation; but as he did not take the powers of his throat into consideration, he produced such a deep quack, that he fright- ened even himself, and terrified the rest. — Shortly after this, the clergy withdrew. Kolya, in his new round jacket with gold but- tons, was the hero of the day: he received pres- ents, he was congratulated, his hand was kissed from the front steps and from the back steps : the factory-hands, the house-servants, the old women and the young girls, the peasant men— chiefly out of ancient tradition of serfdom days— buzzed about in front of the house, around the tables spread with patties and flagons of liquor.— Kolya was both ashamed and delighted, and proud and abashed, and he cuddled up to his parents, and ran out of the room ; and at dinner Sipyagin or- dered champagne to be served, — and, before drinking to his son's health, he made a speech. He spoke about the significance of " serving the earth,"— and along what road he would like to 94 VIRGIN SOIL have his Nikolai walk! ... (he called him pre- cisely that) —and what they had a right to ex- pect from him: in the first place, his family, in the second place, his social class, society; in the third place, the masses, — j'^es, my dear sirs, the masses,— and, in the fourth place, the govern- ment! Gradually elevating his style, Sipyagin at last attained to genuine eloquence, and therewith, after the similitude of Robert Peel, he thrust his hand under his coat-tails; he became touched with emotion over the word " science," and wound up his speech with the Latin excla- mation : " Laboremus! " which he immediately translated into Russian. Kolya, champagne- glass in hand, walked down the whole length of the table to thank his father, and kissed every- body. Again it happened that Nezhdanoif exchanged glances with JNIarianna. . . . Both of them, in all probability, felt the same thing. . . . But they did not speak to each other. However, everything which he had seen struck NezhdanofF as more ridiculous and even interest- ing, than vexatious or repulsive, and the amiable hostess, Valentina Mikhailovna, appeared to him to be a very clever woman who knew that she was playing a part, and, at the same time, was secretly delighted that there was another person, also clever and perspicacious, who understood her . . . NezhdanofF probably did not himself suspect, to 95 VIRGIN SOIL what a degree his self-love was flattered by her manner of treating him. On the following day the lessons were re- sumed, and life flowed on in its wonted rut. A week passed, imperceptibly. . . The very best idea as to what Nezhdanofl* felt, as to what he thought, will be furnished by an extract from a letter of his to a certain Sflin, a comrade of his at the gymnasium, and his best friend. This Si- lin did not live in Petersburg, but in a distant governmental town with a wealthy relative, on whom he was entirely dependent. His situation had been so ordained that he could not even dream of ever breaking away from it; he was a weakly man, timid, and of limited capacity, but remarkably pure in soul. He was not interested in politics, he perused a few little books, he played on the flute to relieve the tedium, and was afraid of young ladies. Silin was passionately attached to Nezhdanofl* — he had in general an aff^ectionate heart. There was no one to whom NezhdanofF so unrestrainedly expressed his thoughts as to Vladimir Sflin; when he wrote to him it always seemed to him that he was chat- ting with a near and familiar being, — but an in- habitant of the other world, or his own conscience. NezhdanofF could not even imagine to himself how he could ever again live with Sflin on friendly terms in the same town. . . He would, in all probability, have immediately cooled toward 96 VIRGIN SOIL him ; they had very little in common ; but he wrote to him gladly and voluminously — and with en- tire frankness. With others — on paper, at least, — he always seemed to be deceiving or putting on airs; — with Silin — never! As he did not wield a ready pen, Silin made scant reply in brief, awkward phrases; but NezhdanofF did not require lengthy answers: he knew, without that, that his friend devoured his every word, as the dust of the highway drinks in the spatters of rain, kept his secrets like a holy thing — and, buried in remote and never-quitted isolation, lived only with his life. NezhdanofF had never told any one in the world of his relations to him, and treas- ured them to an uncommon degree. " Well, my dear friend, — my pure Vladimir ! " — [thus he wrote to him : he always called liim " pure," and not without reason!] — "congratulate me: I have hit upon green pastures, and can now rest and recuperate my strength. I am living as tutor, in the house of the wealthy dignitary Sipyagin, I am teaching his little son, I am eating splendid food (I never ate such food in my life), I am sleeping soundly, I am strolling to rny heart's content in the beautiful surrounding country — and, the chief thing of all: I have escaped, for a time, from the tutelage of my Petersburg friends; and al- though at first I was fiercely gnawed by tedium, I seem to feel more at my ease now. I shall speedily be com- pelled to put my shoulder to the wheel, which thou know- est, that is to say, to crawl into the pannier, as I have 97 VIRGIN SOIL offered myself as the load (and that Is precisely the reason why I was given leave of absence to come hither) ; but for the time being I may live the precious animal life, grow a fat belly — and, perhaps, even compose verses, if the desire impels me. The so-called observa- tions are postponed until another time: the estate seems to me well organised, only perhaps the factory is in rather a bad condition ; the peasant lands bought at the Emancipation are, somehow, inaccessible; the hired house-servants all are exceedingly decorous characters. But we will discuss that later on. The master and mis- tress of the house are courteous, liberal; the gentleman is forever condescending, forever condescending — and then, all of a sudden, he takes and flares up; a highly cultured man ! The lady — a regular beauty, and must have her wits about her, I think; she keeps such good watch of one — and yet she is so gentle! — Absolutely boneless ! I amuse her ; for thou knowest what sort of a squire of dames I am! — There are neighbours — bad ones; one old woman persecutes me. . . . But there is one young girl who interests me most of all, and whether she is a relative or a companion, — the Lord only knows! — with whom I have hardly exchanged two words, but whom I divine to be a berry from the same field as my- self " Here followed a description of Marianna — of all her habits ; and then he went on : " That she is unhappy, proud, egotistical, reserved, but, most of all, unhappy, I have not the slightest doubt. Why she is unhappy,— I have not, as yet, found out. 98 VIRGIN SOIL That she has an upright nature,— is clear to me; but is she kind?— that is the question. And are there any thoroughly kind women in existence — unless they are stupid ? And is that necessary ? However, I know very little about women in general. The mistress of the house does not like her. . . And she repays her in the same coin. . . . But which of them is in the right — I know not. I assume that the mistress of the house is more likely not to be in the right ... as she is extremely polite to her; and she even twitches her eyebrows ner- vously when she talks with her patroness. Yes; she is a very nervous creature; that, also, is in my line. And she is dislocated,— just as I am, — although, probably, not in the same manner. " When all this becomes somewhat straightened out, I will write to thee. . . . " She hardly ever talks with me, as I have already told thee; but in her few words addressed to me (always suddenly and unexpectedly) there rings a certain harsh frankness. . . . This is very pleasing to me. " By the way, — does thy relative still keep thee on a dry diet — and is n't he preparing to give up the ghost.? " Hast thou read, in the European Messenger, that article about the last Pretenders to the crown in the Oren- burg Government.'' That took place in the year 1834, brother! I love not that magazine, and the author is a conservative ; but it is an interesting thing, and may lead one to reflection " 99 IX May had rolled on to its second half; the first hot summer days had come. — On finishing his history lesson, NezhdanoiF wended his way to the garden, and from the garden passed into the birch grove which adjoined it on one side. — A portion of this grove had been felled by mer- chants, fifteen years previously; but all the de- nuded places were now planted with a dense un- derbrush of young birch-trees. Like pillars of a dull-silver hue, with greyish horizontal rings, stood the close-set trees; the little leaves shone with a clear and vigorous green, exactly as though some one had washed them, and had covered them with varnish; the spring grass was thrusting its sharp spears through the smooth layer of last year's dark straw-coloured foliage. The whole grove was intersected by narrow paths; yellow- billed black thrushes, with sudden cry as though alarmed, flitted athwart these paths, low down, almost grazing the ground, and dashed head- long into the thicket. After strolling about for half an hour, NezhdanofF, at last, seated himself on the stump of a felled tree, surrounded by grey, aged chips: they lay in j» heap, just as they had VIRGIN SOIL fallen when chopped off long ago by the axe. JMany times had the winter snow covered them — and retreated from them in the spring, — and no one had touched them. NezhdanofF sat with his back to a thick wall of young birches, in a dense but short shadow; he was not thinking of any- thing, he had surrendered himself completely to that peculiar sensation of springtime with which —in the young as well as in the old heart— there is always an admixture of sadness .... the agitated sadness of expectation — in the young; the impassive sadness of regret — in the old. . . . All at once NezhdanofF heard the sound of ap- proaching footsteps. It was not one person who was walking there, — and not a peasant in bast slippers or in heavy boots, — and not a bare-footed peasant woman. There appeared to be two persons, walking at a leisurely, measured pace. ... A woman's gown rustled lightly. . . . All at once a dull voice, a man's voice, rang out: " And so this is your last word? Never? " "Never!" — repeated another, a woman's voice, which struck NezhdanofF as familiar; and, a moment later, around a turn in the path which, at that point, wound among the young birch- trees,— Marianna stepped forth, accompanied by a swarthy, black-eyed man, whom Nezhdanoff had never beheld until that moment, 101 VIRGIN SOIL Both stopped short, as though rooted to the spot, at the sight of NezhdanofF;— and Nezhda- noff was so astounded that he did not even rise from the stump on which he was sitting. . . . INIarianna blushed to the very roots of her hair, but immediately burst into a scornful laugh. . . . To whom did that laugh refer— to herself, be- cause she had blushed— or to NezhdanoiF? . . . And her companion knitted his thick eyebrows, and the yellowish whites of his restless eyes flashed. Then he exchanged a glance with Mari- anna,— and both, turning their backs on Nezh- danoff , walked away, in silence, without acceler- ating their pace, while he watched them with a look of amazement. Half an hour later he returned to the house, to his room,— and when, summoned by the roar- ing of the gong, he entered the drawing-room, he beheld in it that same black-visaged stranger who had run up against him in the grove. Si- pyagin led NezhdanofF up to him, and introduced him as his brother-in-law, the brother of Valen- tina Mikhailovna— Sergyei Mildiailovitch Mar- kelofF. " I beg, gentlemen, that you will love and fa- vour each other! "—exclaimed Sipyagin, with the majestically courteous and, at the same time, preoccupied smile which was so characteristic of him. JNIarkeloff made a silent bow. Nezhdanoff re- 102 VIRGIN SOIL sponded in the same manner . . . and Sipyagin, throwing his small head a little backward and shrugging his shoulders, withdrew to one side, — as much as to say: " I have brought you to- gether, and whether you do love and favour each other or not is a matter of entire indifference tome!" Then Valentina Mikhailovna approached to the pair who stood there immovable, again presented them to each other — and, with the peculiar, affec- tionately brilliant glance which, as though at the word of command, welled up in her wonderful eyes, entered into conversation with her brother. " What dost thou mean, cher Serge, by forget- ting us altogether ! thou didst not even come to us on Kolya's Name-day. Have thy occupations so overwhelmed thee? " He is establishing a new order of things with his peasants," — she said, turning to NezhdanofF, — "a very original order of things; he is giving them three fourths of everything — and leaving himself only one fourth; and even so, he thinks that he is getting a great deal." " My sister is fond of jesting,"— said Marke- lofF, addressing Nezhdanoff, in his turn; — " but I am ready to agree with her that for one man to take one quarter of what belongs to whole hundreds really is to take a great deal." " And you, Alexyei Dmitritch,— have you ob- served that I am fond of jesting? "—inquired 103 VIRGIN SOIL JNIadame Sipyagin, still with the same caressing gentleness of look and voice. NezhdanofF did not know what reply to make ; — and just then KallomyeitzefF's arrival was an- nounced. The hostess advanced to meet him and, a few minutes later, the butler made his ap- pearance, and in a drawling voice announced that dinner was served. At dinner Nezhdanoff involuntarily kept gaz- ing at Marianna and Markeloff. — They sat side by side, both with eyes cast down, with com- pressed lips, with a lowering and stern, almost vicious expression of countenance. Nezhdanoff was particularly perplexed by the thought— how JMarkeloff could be the brother of Madame Si- pyagin. There was so little resemblance to be observed between them. — Possibly, in one point only : they both had swarthy skins ; but Valentina jNIikhailovna's dull-white complexion, arms and shoulders constituted one of her charms .... in her brother it passed into that blackness which polite people designate as " bronze," but which, to the Russian eyes, is suggestive of — the leg of a boot. Markeloff had curly hair, a rather hooked nose, thick lips, sunken cheeks, a hollow abdomen, and sinewy hands. Altogether, he was sinewy and lean, and he talked in a brazen, abrupt voice. His glance was drowsy, his aspect surly — a regu- lar bilious temperament. He ate little, and spent most of his time in rolling little balls of bread, 104 VIRGIN SOIL and only now and then did he cast his eyes on KallomyeitzefF, who had just returned from town, where he had seen the Governor in con- nection with an affair which was not in the least an agreeable one for him, Kallomyeitzeff, con- cerning which, however, he carefully held his peace, and chirped like a nightingale. Sipyagin, as on the former occasion, snubbed him when he became too obstreperous, but laughed a great deal at his anecdotes and bon- mots, although he considered " qiiil est un af- freucc reactionnaire." Kallomyeitzeff asserted, among other things, that he had gone into perfect raptures over the name which the peasants — oui, oui! les simples mougiks! — bestow on lawyers. "Barkers! barkers!" — he repeated enthusiasti- cally: — '' ce peuple russe est delicieux!" — Then he related how, once upon a time, when he was visiting a school for the common people, he had put to the school-master a question: " What is a strophokamil? " ^ — And, as no one was able to answer it, not even the teacher, he, Kallomyei- tzeff, had put another question: "What is a pitliik?"'^ — and had cited Khemnitzer's verse: " And the weak-minded pithik, the delineator of beast-like faces!" — And no one had answered that question of his either. — " So much for your popular schools ! " " But excuse me,"— remarked Valentina Mi- * Ostrich.— Thanslatoh. ' Ape.— Translator. 105 VIRGIN SOIL khailovna,— " I myself do not know what sort of wild beasts those are." "Madame!" exclaimed Kallomyeitzeff, "It is not necessary that you should know! " " But why should the people know? " " Because — it is better for them to know pithik or stropJiokamil than — some Prudhomme or other — or even Adam Smith! " But at this point Sipyagin snubbed Kallomye- itzeff once more by announcing that Adam Smith was one of the lights of human thought, and that it would be useful to imbibe his principles (he poured himself out a glass of chateau d'Yquem) . . . . " along with the mother's milk!" (he passed the wine under his nose and inhaled the aroma). . . . Then he gulped down the wine. KallomyeitzeiF also sipped the wine and praised it. MarkelofF paid no particular attention to the babble of the Petersburg Gentleman of the Em- peror's Bedchamber, but he cast a couple of in- terrogative glances at Nezhdanoff, and, firing a bread-ball, he came within an ace of hitting the eloquent visitor straight on the nose. . . . Sipyagin left his brother-in-law in peace; Va- lentina Mikhailovna did not talk to him either ; it was obvious that both of them, husband and wife, had become accustomed to regard Markeloif as an eccentric person who had better not be irritated. After dinner MarkeloflF betook himself to the 106 VIRGIN SOIL billiard-room to smoke his pipe, and Nezhdanoff went off to his room. — In the corridor he encoun- tered ]Marianna. He was on the point of passing her . . when she stopped him with an abrupt ges- ture of her hand. " Mr. NezhdanofF,"— she began, in a rather un- steady voice, — " it really ought to be a matter of indifference to me what you think about me: nevertheless, I suppose .... I suppose . . . ." (she was at a loss for words) ..." I suppose that it is appropriate to say to you, that when you met me and ]\Ir. INIarkeloff to-day in the grove .... You probably thought, did you not, ' Why did both of them become confused, and why did they come thither, — as though by appoint- ment?'" " It really did strike me as rather strange ..." began Nezhdanoff . "Mr. MarkelofF," — interposed Marianna,— " made me an offer of marriage — and I refused him. That is all I have to say to you; and now — good-bye. And think what you will of me." She tui'ned swiftly away, and retreated down the corridor with hasty steps. Nezhdanoff returned to his own room and, seating himself by the window, fell into thought. — What a strange girl, and to what end that sav- age sally, that unbidden frankness? What was it — a desire to be original — or simply pompous language — or pride? Most likely of all it was 107 VIRGIN SOIL pride. She could not endure the shghtest suspi- cion. . . . She could not bear the thought that another person should judge falsely concerning her. — A strange girl! Thus did NezhdanoiF meditate; and down- stairs, on the terrace, a conversation about him was in progress ; and he heard it all very distinctly. " My nose scents out," — asserted Kallomyei- tzefF, — " scents out that he is — a red. Formerly, when I was an official for special commissions, attached to the General-Governor of Moscow, — avec Ladislas.—l got my wits sharpened on the subject of that sort of gentry — the reds, and also the Old Ritualists. I used to get the upper hand of them instinctively." — Here KallomyeitzefF, " by the way," narrated how, once upon a time, in the suburbs of Moscow, he had caught by the heels an old sectarian, on whom he had made a sudden descent with the police, and who had all but leaped out of the window of his cottage. . . . " And up to that minute he had been sitting peaceably on his bench, the knave ! " KallomyeitzefF forgot to add, that that same old man, when put in prison, had refused all food — and had starved himself to death. " And your new teacher,"— went on the met- tlesome Gentleman of the Bedchamber,—" is a red, without fail ! Have you noticed that he never is the first to bow? " " But why should he be the first to bow? "— re- 108 VIRGIN SOIL marked Madame Sipyagin;— " on the contrary, I like that m hnn." " I am a guest in the house where he serves," — exclaimed KallomyeitzelF,— " yes, yes, serves for money, comme un salarie. . . Consequently, I am his superior.— And he ought to make me the first bow." " You are very exacting, my dearest fellow," — interposed Sipyagin, with emphasis on est; — " all that, pardon me, reeks of antiquated customs. I have purchased his services, his work, but he re- mains a free man." " He does not feel the bit," — went on Kal- lomyeitzefF,— " the bit,— Ze frein! All those reds are just like that. I tell you, I have a wonderful nose for them!— No one but Ladislas, possibly, can compete with me in that respect. — If he were to fall into my hands, that tutor,— I 'd bring him up with a round turn! He should sing another tune for me; — and the way he would take off his hat to me would be simply splendid! " "The rubbish, the braggart! "—Nezhdanoff above came near shouting out. . . . But at that moment the door of his room opened— and, to the no small amazement of Nezhdanoff,— Markeloff entered. 109 X Nezhdanoff rose from his seat to welcome him, but INIarkelofF walked straight up to him, and without a bow, without a smile, asked him: " was it true that he was Alexyei Dmitritch NezhdanofF, student of the St. Petersburg University? " " Yes . . . exactly so," — replied NezhdanofF. INIarkeloiF drew from a side pocket an unsealed letter.—" In that case, read this. It is from Va- sily Nikolaevitch,"— he added, significantly low- ering his voice. NezhdanofF unfolded and read the letter. It was something in the nature of a semi-official cir- cular, in which the bearer, Sergyei INIarkelofF, was recommended as one of " ours," who was entirely worthy of confidence; then followed an injunction as to the pressing necessity of con- certed action, as to the dissemination of well- known rules. The circular was addressed to NezhdanofF, among others, as to a man who was also trustworthy. NezhdanofF offered his hand to MarkelofF, in- vited him to be seated, and sat down himself on a chair. JNIarkelofF began by lighting a cigarette, without having uttered a word. NezhdanofF fol- lowed his example. 110 VIRGIN SOIL " Have you already succeeded in entering into relations with the peasants here? " — inquired Markeloif , at last. " No; I have not succeeded in that, so far." " And is it long since you arrived here? " " It will soon be a fortnight." " Are you very busy? " " Not very." Markeloff coughed gruffly. " Hm ! The common people here are a pretty empty lot,"— he went on; — "an ignorant lot. They must be instructed. There is great poverty, and no one can explain whence that poverty arises." " Your brother-in-law's former serfs are not poverty-stricken, so far as I can judge,"— re- marked NezhdanofF. " My brother-in-law is a sly dog; he 's a master- hand at diverting one's attention. The local peas- ants are all right, 't is true ; but he has a factory. That is where our efforts must be applied. All you have to do is to delve down there : things will be turned upside down immediately, as though it were an ant-hill. — Have you any little books with you? " " Yes . . . but not many." " I '11 get you some. How does that happen? " Nezhdanoff made no answer.— Markeloff, also, relapsed into silence, and merely emitted smoke through his nostrils. Ill VIRGIN SOIL (( But what a villain that Kallomyeitzeff is,"— he suddenly went on. — " At dinner I kept think- ing: ' Shall I rise and go up to that gentleman and pound his whole arrogant phiz to powder, in order that others may not be tempted to do the same? But no! There are more important mat- ters on hand at present, than thrashing Gentle- men of the Bedchamber! ' — This is no time for waxing wroth with fools because they utter fool- ish words ; now is the time to prevent their perpe- trating foolish deeds." Nezhdanoff nodded his head affirmatively, — and again MarkelofF devoted himself to his cigar- ette. " Here, out of all the menials in the house, there is one very business-like young fellow," — he began again; — "not your servant Ivan . . . he 's a sort of fish, but the other fellow — his name is Kyrill; he serves in the pantry." (This Kyrill was well known to be a bitter drunkard.) " You just pay heed to him. He 's a turbulent fellow . . . but we cannot afford to be dainty. And what do you say to my sister? " — he added, sud- denly raising his head and riveting his yellow eyes on NezhdanofF.— " She is even more crafty than my brother-in-law. What is your opinion about her?" " I think that she is a very agreeable and ami- able lad5^ . . And she is very handsome, to boot." " Hm! with what precision you gentlemen from 112 VIRGIN soil; Petersburg express yourselves. . . I am amazed ! —Well . . . and as for . . . ." he was begin- ning, but suddenly frowned ; his face grew lower- ing, and he did not finish the sentence which he had begun. — " I perceive that you and I must have a good talk,"— he began afresh. — " Here it is impossible. The devil take them ! I believe they listen at the doors. Do you know what I am go- ing to propose to you? To-day is Saturday; to-morrow, probably, you do not give my nephew any lessons? . . is n't that so? " " I have a review lesson with him to-morrow, at three o'clock." "A review! Exactly like a rehearsal at the theatre. It must be that dear sister of mine who invents such words. Well, never mind. Come at once to me, will you? My village lies ten versts from here. I have good horses : we will drive off thither at full speed ; you shall pass the night with me, and spend the morning,— and to-morrow, by three o'clock, I will fetch you back. Do you ac- cept? " " Very well,"— said NezhdanofF. From the first moment of MarkelofF's entrance he had felt himself in an excited and constrained condition. —His sudden intimacy with him disconcerted him ; but, at the same time, he felt drawn toward him. He felt, he understood, that he had before him a being who was probably dull, but was in- disputably honest— and powerful.— Added to 113 VIRGIN SOIL this, that strange encounter in the grove, that un- expected explanation from Marianna. " Well, that 's very fine! "—exclaimed Marke- lofF.—" Meanwhile, do you make ready; and I will go and give orders to have the tarantas har- nessed. I hope that you are not obliged to ask permission of the heads of the house here? " " I shall inform them. Otherwise, I assume that I cannot absent myself." "I will tell them,"-put in MarkelofF.- " Don't trouble yourself. — At present they are quarrelling over their cards, and will not notice your absence. My brother-in-law aspires to be- come a statesman, and the only qualification he has for the post is, that he plays cards capitally. Well, there 's no use talking about it ; many make their way through that wicket-gate! ... So hold yourself in readiness. I will immediately take all necessary measures." Markeloff left the room; and an hour later Nezhdanoff was sitting by his side, on a large leather cushion, in a spacious, roomy, very old- fashioned and very comfortable tarantas; the thick-set little coachman on the box kept whistling incessantly, with a wonderfully agreeable, bird- like whistle; the troika of piebald horses, with black plaited manes and tails, dashed swiftly along the level road; and the separate trees, bushes, fields, meadows and ravines, — already veiled in the first shades of twilight (the clock 114 VIRGIN SOIL had struck ten at the moment of their departure) ; — ghded smoothly past, some behind, others in front, according to their degree of remoteness. Markeloff's tiny hamlet (it had only two hun- dred desyatmas ^ of land in all, and yielded an in- come of about seven hundred rubles, and was called Borzvonkovo) was situated three versts ^ from the capital of the government, from which Sipyagin's estate lay at a distance of seven versts. In order to reach Borzyonkovo, it was necessary to traverse the town.— The new acquaintances had not succeeded in exchanging half a hundred words, when the wretched suburban hovels of the petty burghers flitted before them, with their broken board roofs, and dim splotches of light in their tiny windows twisted out of the perpen- dicular ; and then the stones of the town pavement thundered beneath the wheels, the tarantas jolted, and lurched from side to side, bouncing upward, and at every jolt they swept past merchants' stupid, two-story stone houses with pediments, churches with columns, taverns. ... It was al- most Sunday; there were no longer any pedes- trians in the streets, but there were still throngs of people in the dram-shops. Hoarse voices rang out thence, drunken songs, the whining sounds of the accordion; from the suddenly- opened doors rushed forth sordid heat, the pun- ^A desyatina is 2.70 acres.— Translator. *A verst is 0.66 of a mile. — Translator. 115 VIRGIN SOIL gent odour of spirits, the red glow of night-lights. In front of almost every dram-shop stood peas- ant-carts, harnessed to shaggy, pot-hellied nags; submissively drooping their dishevelled heads, they appeared to be asleep. A tattered, gir- dleless peasant, with a puffy, winter cap hanging on the nape of his neck like a sack, emerged from a dram-shop, and leaning his breast against the shafts, remained motionless, weakly fingering over something, and spreading out his hands and fumbling; or a gaunt factory -hand, with his cap on one ear, with his nankeen blouse hanging loosely, and barefooted, — he had left his boots in the dram-shop, — took a few irresolute steps, halted, scratched his back, and, suddenly emit- ting a groan, turned back. . . . " Liquor vanquishes the Russian man! " gloom- ily remarked MarkelofF. " It 's grief, dear little father, Sergyei Mikhai- lovitch! " — remarked the coachman, without turn- ing round ; he had ceased to whistle as he passed each dram-shop, and seemed to retreat into him- self. "Go on! Go on!"— replied MarkelofF, an- grily shaking the collar of his coat. The tarantas crossed a spacious market-place, all reeking with the odour of cabbage and linden-bast sacking, passed the Governor's residence, with its striped sentry-boxes at the gate, a private house with a tower, the boulevard with recently-planted and al- 116 VIRGIN SOIL ready expiring trees, the grand bazaar, filled with the barking of dogs and the rattling of chains; and gradually emerging beyond the town gates, having overtaken a long, long train of sledges which had set out on their journey while it was still cold, they found themselves once more in the air of the country, on the highway fringed with willows— and once more they rolled briskly and smoothly onward. Markeloff— we must really say a few words about him — was six years older than his sister, Madame Sipyagin. He had been educated in the artillery school, whence he had graduated as an officer ; but he had resigned, while still holding the rank of ensign, on account of a row with his commander — a German. Thenceforth he hated the Germans, especially Russian Germans. His resignation had ruined his relations with his fa- ther, whom he never saw again before the latter's death ; but he had inherited from him a tiny estate, and had settled down on it. In Petersburg he had frequently associated with various clever, prom- inent people, whom he fairly venerated ; they had definitively determined his mode of thought. Markeloff had read little,— and chiefly books per- taining to the cause:— especially Hertzen. He had preserved his military mien, lived like a Spartan and a monk. A few years prior to our story he had fallen passionately in love with a young girl; but the latter had jilted him in 117 VIRGIN SOIL the most unceremonious manner, and had mar- ried an adjutant— who was, moreover, of Ger- man extraction. Markeloff hkewise detested adjutants. He tried to write special articles con- cerning the defects of our artillery service, but he possessed no talent for exposition: — he was not able to complete a single article — and yet he continued to scrawl huge sheets of common paper all over with his big, awkward, truly-childish chirography. Markeloff was a stubborn man, intrepid to desperation, who was incapable of forgiving or forgetting, was constantly offended on his own account, and on the account of all oppressed people — and ready for anything. His shallow mind hammered away constantly at one and the same point: what he did not understand did not exist for him; but he both despised and detested falsehood and lying. With persons of the higher class, with " reactionary high offi- cials," as he expressed himself, he was curt and even rude; with the common people he was sim- ple; with a peasant he was as sociable as with a brother. He was a mediocre farmer; he had divers socialistic plans whirling through his brain, which he was as unable to put in practice as he was to finish the articles which he had begun about the defects of the artillery. On the whole — he was not lucky— never, in anything: in the mili- tary academy he had borne the nickname of " the unlucky." A sincere, straightforward man, with a passionate, unhappy nature, he could, under cer- 118 VIRGIN SOIL tain circumstances, show himself to be pitiless, bloodthirsty, and earn the name of monster — and he could, also, sacrifice himself unhesitatingly and irrevocably. At the third verst from the town, the tarantas suddenly entered the soft gloom of an aspen- grove, with the rustle and quiver of invisible fo- liage, with the fresh bitterness of the forest scent, with dim apertures above, and tangled shadows below. The moon had already risen above the horizon, red and broad as a copper shield. Emerg- ing from beneath the trees, the tarantas found itself in front of a small manor-house. Three lighted windows stood out like brilliant squares on the front of the low-roofed house, which ob- scured the disk of the moon: the gates, which stood ajar, were never closed. In the courtyard, through the semi-darkness, a tall kibitka was visi- ble, with two white posting-horses hitched behind to the rack. Two puppies, also white, sprang out from somewhere or other, and set up a pierc- ing but not ill-natured barking. People began to move about in the house — the tarantas rolled up to the steps; and, with difficulty climbing out, and searching with his foot for the iron step, affixed, as usual, by a home-bred blacksmith, in the most inconvenient place possible, Markeloff" said to Nezhdanoff*: " Here we are, at home — and you will find here guests whom you know well, but were by no means expecting to meet.— Pray enter! " 119 XI These guests turned out to be our old acquaint- ances, OstrodiimofF and Miss Mashiirin. Both were sitting in the small, very badly furnished drawing-room of Markeloff's house— and were drinking beer and smoking tobacco by the light of a kerosene lamp. They were not surprised at Nezhdanoff' s arrival ; they knew that MarkelofF intended to bring him back with him ; but Nezh- dcinoff was greatly surprised at the sight of them. When he entered, OstrodiimofF said: "Good evening, brother! "—and that was all; Miss Ma- shiirin first blushed all over, then offered her hand. Markeloff exj)lained to Nezhdanoff that OstrodiimofF and Miss Mashiirin had been sent " on the general business," which was now soon to be put in operation ; that they had left Petersburg a week before; that OstrodiimofF was to remain in the Government of S. for the purposes of propaganda,— but Miss Mashiirin was going to K., to interview a certain man. MarkelofF suddenly became angry, although no one had contradicted him:— with flashing eyes he began to talk in an excited, dull, but distinct voice, about the horrors that had been perpetrated, 120 VIRGIN SOIL about the indispensability of immediate action, and to the effect, that, in reahty, everything was ready, and only cowards could dally; that a cer- tain amount of force was indispensable, like the thrust of a lancet in an abscess, however ripe that abscess may be ! He repeated this comparison of the lancet several times : it evidently pleased him ; he had not invented it, but had read it somewhere or other. — It appeared that, having lost all hope of reciprocity on the part of JNIarianna, he had no compassion on anything any longer, and thought of nothing except how to begin on " the cause " as speedily as possible. He talked as though he were chopping with an axe, without any artifice, sharply, simply, and viciously; his words leaped monotonously out of his pallid lips, one after the other, in a manner suggestive of the barking of a stern and aged watch-dog. He showed that he was well acquainted with the neighbouring peasants and factorj^-hands, and that there were active men among them, — as, for instance, Goloplyotzky Eremyei, — who, on the instant, would do anything that was wanted. This " goloplyotzky " Eremyei— Eremyei from the village of Goloplyok — was constantly re- curring to his tongue. At intervals of every ten words he brought his right hand down with a bang — not palm- wise, but edge-wise — on the table, and thrust the left hand into the air, with the index-finger standing apart. — Those lean, 121 VIRGIN SOIL hairy hands, that booming voice, those flaming eyes, produced a powerful impression. During the ride JMarkelofF had talked little with Nezh- danofF; his bile had been accumulating .... and now it had broken forth. . . Miss Mashurin and Ostrodiimoff encouraged him with a smile, a glance, occasionally with a brief exclamation ; but something strange took place with Nezhdanoff . At first he tried to reply; he reminded them of the harmfulness of over-haste, of premature, in- considerate actions; most of all, he was amazed how everything had already been decided, and why there was no doubt whatever, and no occa- sion whatever to consult circumstances, nor even to try to find out what the populace really wanted. . . . But later on all his nerves became as taut as guitar-strings — began to quiver — and with a sort of desperation, almost with tears of fury in his eyes, with his voice breaking into a scream, he began to talk in the same spirit as Markeloff ; he even went further than the latter. — What incited him to this it would be difficult to say: whether it was repentance for having weakened of late, or vexation at himself and at others, or a sense of the necessity of stifling some inward worm or other, or, in conclusion, a desire to show off before the newly-arrived missionaries, .... or whether Markeloft"s words really had taken efl'ect on him, and fired his blood. The dis- cussion continued until daybreak; OstrodumoiF 122 VIRGIN SOIL and Miss JNIasIiiirin never rose from their chairs, and Markeloff and NezhdanofF never sat down. MarkelofF stood rooted to one spot, exactly hke a sentry; and Nezhdanoff kept pacing up and down the room with uneven strides, now slowly, now hurriedly. They talked about impending measures and means, about the part which each one was to assume, then sorted out and tied up in packages various wretched little books and separate printed sheets; they alluded to a mer- chant, a member of the sect of Old Ritualists, a certain Golushkin, as an extremely reliable al- though uneducated man, and to the young propa- gandist Kislyakoff , who was expert, you know, but altogether too lively and possessed of too lofty an opinion of his own talents. Solomin's name was also mentioned " Is that the man who manages the cotton-spin- ning factory? " — inquired NezhdanofF, recalling what had been said about him at the table of the Sipyagins. " That 's the very man,"— said MarkelofF. — "We must introduce you to him; we have not got a nibble at him, as yet, but he 's a capable man." Eremyei from Goloplyok made his appearance on the scene once more. Sipyagin's Kirilo was coupled with him, and with a certain Mendelyei, nicknamed Porpoise, also; only, it was difficult to rely on this Porpoise ; when sober he was brave, 123 VIRGIN SOIL but when drunk he was cowardly ; and he was al- most always drunk. " Well, and how about your own people," — NezhdiinofF asked JNIarkeloff — " is there any one among them on whom you can rely? " MarkelofF replied that there was; but he did not mention a single one of them by name, and began to talk about the petty burghers in the town, and the theological students, who were, moreover, all the more useful because they were very stout in bodily strength — and when they should once begin to bring their fists into play,— well, just look out for yourself !~NezhdanofF made some inquiries as to the nobles. MarkelofF answered him that there were fifty of the young men— one of them, even, was a German, — and he was the most radical of the lot; only, every- body was aware that no reliance can be placed on a German .... he will immediately cheat you or sell you! — And they must wait to see what news KislyakofF would obtain. — NezhdanofF also inquired about the military men. Thereupon MarkelofF stammered, tugged at his long side- whiskers, and finally declared that, so far, there was absolutely nothing to say about them .... unless KislyakofF should discover something. " But w^ho is this KislyakofF? " — exclaimed NezhdanofF, impatiently. MarkelofF laughed significantly, and said that he was a man . . . such a man. ..." However, 124 VIRGIN SOIL I am not very well acquainted with him," — he added: " I have only met him twice, in all; but what letters that man does write, what letters! I will show you. . . . You will be amazed! sim- ply — fire! And what activity! He has galloped from one end of Russia to the other, in all direc- tions, five or six times . . . and at every posting- station a letter of ten or twelve pages! " NezhdanofF glanced inquiringly at Ostrodii- mofF ; but the latter sat like a statue, and never even moved an eyelash; and Miss Mashurin pursed up her lips in a bitter smile, — and she also made as though she could not even guess ! NezhdanofF undertook to question Markeloff as to his re- forms, in the socialistic spirit, — in his farming . . . but at this point OstrodiimofF joined in. " What is the use of discussing that now," — he remarked, — " it makes no difference — every- thing must be altered later on. The conversation returned again to political ground. The secret, inward worm continued to nibble and gnaw NezhdanofF ; but the more pow- erful was that gnawing the more loudly and ir- revocably did he talk. — He had drunk only one glass of beer; but, from time to time, it seemed to him that he was completely intoxicated — and his head swam, and his heart beat with a sickly strenuousness. But when, at last, in the hour af- ter midnight, the disputes came to an end, and the interlocutors, stepping round the page who was 12,5 VIRGIN SOIL sleeping in the anteroom, strode off to their sep- arate nooks, NezhdanofF, before he got into bed, stood for a long time motionless, with his eyes riveted on the floor in front of him. He seemed to hear an incessant, sorrowful, soiil-nipping ac- cent in everything which MarkelofF had uttered; that man's egotism must have been wounded, he must have suffered, his hopes of personal happi- ness must have come to grief,— and yet, he had forgotten himself, he had surrendered himself to that which he recognised as the truth! A fellow of limited mind, thought NezhdanofF. ..." But is it not a hundred times better to be that sort of limited fellow than such .... such an one as I, for instance, feel myself to be? " But here he rebelled against his self-humili- ation. " Why so? Shall not I, also, be capable of sacrificing myself? Wait, gentlemen. . . . And thou, Pakhlin, shalt also become convinced, in the course of time, that I, although I am an aesthetic, although I do write verses " He angrily flung back his hair Math his hand, gnashed his teeth and, hastily pulling off his clothes, flung himself on the cold, damp bed. "Good night!"— rang out Miss Mashiirin's voice on the other side of the door: — " I am your neighbour." " Good-bye,"— replied NezhdanofF, and im- mediately recalled the fact that she had never 126 VIRGIN SOIL taken her eyes from him during the whole course of the evening. " What does she want? "—he whispered to him- self — and was overcome with shame. " Akh, let me go to sleep as soon as possible ! " But it was difficult to control his nerves .... and the sun was already quite high in the heavens when at last he fell into a heavy and unrefresh- ing slumber. The next morning he rose late, with a headache. He dressed himself, went to the window of the mezzanine ^ in which his chamber was situated — and perceived that MarkelofF had no regular manor whatever; his small house stood on an ex- posed blulF, not far from a grove. A small gran- ary, a stable, a tiny underground store-house, a little cottage, with a half -ruined straw thatch, on one side; on the other, a tiny pond, a small kitchen-garden, a hemp-patch, and another little cottage with a similar roof ; in the distance, a rick of grain, a tiny threshing-shed, and an empty threshing-floor — this was all the " abundance " which presented itself to the eye. Everything seemed poor, rotten, and not exactly neglected or run wild, but as though it had never known a blossoming-time, like a sapling which has not taken root well. Nezhdanoif went down-stairs. Miss Mashurin was sitting in front of the samo- ^ In Russia, this term is used to designate a partial second story. —Translator. 127 VIRGIN SOIL var in the dining-room,— and, evidently, waiting for him. He learned from her that Ostrodumoff had gone away on business— and would not return for a couple of weeks ; and their host had gone off to attend to his hired labourers. As May was already approaching its end, and there was no work on hand which required haste, Markeloif had taken it into his head to fell a small birch- ffrove with his own tools, and had betaken him- self thither early in the morning. NezhdanofF felt a strange weariness in his soul. So much had been said the previous evening about the impos- sibility of any longer delay, and that all that re- mained to do was to " set to work." But how set to work, at what — and without delay, to boot? — There was no use in asking Miss Mashurin; she knew no wavering ; she was in no doubt as to what she ought to do, which was to go to K. Further than that she did not look. Nezhdanoff did not know what to say to her — and, having drunk his tea, he put on his hat, and went off in the direc- tion of the birch-grove. On the way he met some peasants who were driving manure-wag- ons, former peasants of Markeloff's. He en- tered into conversation with them . . . but he did not get much out of them. They, too, seemed weary — but with physical, every-day fatigue, which did not, in the least, resemble the feeling that he was experiencing. — Their former owner, according to their statements, was a simple gentle- 128 VIRGIN SOIL man, only rather queer ; they prophesied his ruin, because he did not know the rules and was al- ways trying to act after his own fashion, not as his ancestors had done. And he was puzzling — you could n't understand him, try as you would!— but the kindest of the kind! — NezhdanofF strolled on, and came upon MarkelofF himself. He was walking along, surrounded by a whole throng of labourers: it could be seen from a dis- tance that he was explaining something to them, elucidating something — and then he waved his hand .... as much as to say: " I give it up! " By his side walked his superintendent, a young fellow, mole-eyed, without anything imposing in his mien. This superintendent kept incessantly repeating: " That is as you like, sir," — to the great vexation of his superior, who expected more independence from him. NezhdanoiF approached Markeloff , and beheld on his face the exj)ression of exactly the same sort of spiritual weariness which he was feeling himself. — They bade each other good morning; Markeloff immediately be- gan to talk,— briefly, it is true— about the " j)rob- lems " of the previous evening, about the near- ness of an upheaval ; but the expression of weari- ness did not leave his countenance. He was all covered with dust and perspiration; chips of wood, green threads of moss had attached them- selves to his clothing; his voice was hoarse. . . . The men who surrounded him maintained silence : 129 VIRGIN SOIL they were not exactly frightened, nor were they exactly sneering. . . . NezhdanofF looked at Mar- keloff — and OstrodumofF's words again rang in his head: " What 's the use of it? It makes no difference — everything must be altered later on ! " One labourer, who had committed a fault, began to entreat MarkelofF to remit him his fine. .... At first MarkelofF flew into a rage and shouted frantically — and then forgave him. . . . " It makes no difference — everything must be altered later on. . . ." NezhdanofF asked for horses and a carriage that he might return home ; ]\IarkelofF seemed to be surprised at his desire, but replied that everything should be ready di- rectly. He returned to the house in company with NezhdanofF. . . . On the way he staggered with exhaustion. " What is the matter with you? "—inquired NezhdanofF. " I am worn out! "—said MarkelofF, fiercely. — " Explain things to those men as you will, they can understand nothing — and they do not execute my orders. . . . They don't even understand Rus- sian. — The word ' portion ' they know very well, but 'sharing' — what is 'sharing'?^ They do not understand! But it 's a Russian word, too, devil take it!— They imagine that I want to give to them a portion of land! " (Mar- * Portion — utchdstok; sharing— utchdstie. — Translatoe. 130 VIRGIN SOIL keloiF had taken it into his head to explain to the peasants the principle of association, and to introduce it on his own property, but they had resisted. — One of them had even said, in this connection: "The hole was deep, . . . but now the bottom cannot be seen, ..." and all the other peasants had heaved a deep, unanimous sigh, which had completely annihilated MarkelofF. ) On entering the house he dismissed his suite, and began to make arrangements about the car- riage and horses — and about breakfast. . His staff of servants consisted of the page-boy, a woman-cook, a coachman, and a very antique old man, with ears overgrown with hair, in a long, cot- ton-and-wool kaftan, the former valet of his grandfather. — This old man stared incessantly, with profound dejection, at his master, and did nothing else, — and was hardly in a condition to do anything else; but he was always present, perched up on the little platform of the porch at the entrance. After breakfasting on hard-boiled eggs, pil- chards, and a dish of cold hash mixed with kvas (the page handed round the mustard in an old pomade-jar), — Nezhdanoff seated himself in the same tarantas in which he had arrived on the preceding evening: but instead of three horses, they had harnessed up only two for him : the third was being shod — it had gone lame. In the course of the breakfast MarkelofF said very Uttle, ate 131 VIRGIN SOIL nothing, and breathed violently. . . . He uttered two or three bitter words about his farming— and again waved his hand, with a gesture of despair. . ..." It makes no diiFerence — everything must be altered later on." Miss Mashurin asked Nezhdanoff to take her to the town; she was obliged to go thither to make a few purchases: — " and I can return from town on foot — or I will get a lift in the cart of some peasant who is coming back." — As he escorted them both to the porch, INIarkelofF mentioned that he would soon send again for Nezhdanoff — and then . . . then (he gave a start, and recovered a little of his spirits) —they must come to a final agree- ment; that Solomin would come also; that he, Markeloff, was only waiting for news from Va- sily Nikolaevitch— and then there would be but one thing left to do: to " set to work " without delay— because the people (those same people who did not understand the word " sympathy ") would not consent to wait any longer ! " But were you not going to show me the letters of that . . . what 's his name?— KislyakofF? " — inquired Nezhdanoff. " Later . . . later . . ."—said Markeloff, ha- stily.—" We '11 do everything then, all together." The tarantas moved off. "Hold yourself in readiness!" Markeloff's voice rang out for the last time. He was standing 132 VIRGIN SOIL on the steps, and by his side, with the same unal- terable dejection in his gaze, with his crooked form drawn up, and both hands crossed behind his back, and emitting an odour of sour rye bread and the Oriental cotton-and-wool stuff of his kaftan, — but hearing nothing, — stood " the ser- vant of servants," the decrepit old valet of his grandfather. Miss Mashiirin preserved silence until they reached the town, and merely smoked a cigarette. As they approached the town bar- rier she suddenly heaved a loud sigh. " I am sorry for Sergyei Mikhailovitch," — she said, and her face clouded over. " He has put himself to a lot of trouble," — remarked NezhdanofF: — "it strikes me that his farm affairs are in a bad condition." " That is not the reason I pity him." "Why, then?" " He is an unhappy, an unlucky man! . . . who could be better than he is ; . . . but no, even he does not amount to much! " NezhdanofF looked at his companion. " Why, do you know anything? " " I know nothing . . . but every one divines for himself. Farewell, Alexyei Dmitritch." Miss Mashurin alighted from the tarantas, and an hour later NezhdanofF was driving into the courtyard of the Sipyagin house. — He did not feel very well. . . He had passed a sleepless 133 VIRGIN SOIL night .... and then, all those controversies . . . those discussions A handsome face looked out of the window, and bestowed a friendly smile on him. ... It was INIadame Sipyagin welcoming his return. " What eyes she has! " he said to himself. 134 XII A GREAT many people came to dinner — and after dinner NezhdanoiF, taking advantage of the gen- eral commotion, slipped away to his own room. He wanted to be alone with himself, if only for a little while, that he might reduce to order the im- pressions which he had brought back from his trip. — At table Valentma Mikhailovna had glanced at him attentively several times, — but evidently had no opportunity to speak to him; and Mari- anna, after her unexpected sally, which had so amazed him, seemed to be overcome with com- punction, and shunned him. — Nezhdanoff was about to take up his pen; he wished to have a chat on paper with his friend Silin; — but he found nothing to say to his friend; or, possibly, so many contradictory thoughts and sensations had accumulated in his head that he did not try to disentangle them— and he deferred it until an- other day.— Among the persons at dinner had been Mr. Kallomyeitzejff ; never had he displayed more arrogance and gentlemanly scorn; but his free-and-easy speeches produced no effect on Nezhdanoff: he did not notice them. A sort of cloud enveloped him; it hung like a partly-dim 135 VIRGIN SOIL curtain between him and the rest of the world— and, strange to say, athwart that curtain only- three faces were visible to him— and all three the faces of women — and all three had their eyes in- tently riveted upon him. They were: Madame Sipyagin, Miss Mashiirin, and Marianna. What did it mean? And why precisely those three faces? What had they in common? And what did they want of him ? He went to bed early,— but could not get to sleep. He was haunted by thoughts which were not so much sad as gloomy . . . thoughts about the inevitable end, about death. . . . They were familiar to him. For a long time he turned them over, in this direction and in that, now shudder- ing before the probability of annihilation, again welcoming it, almost rejoicing at it.— At last he became conscious of a peculiar agitation which was familiar to him. . . . He rose, seated him- self at his writing-table, and, after meditating a while, wrote the following lines in his private note-book, almost without corrections: " Dear friend, when I shall die — * This is my will for thee : The whole mass of my writings Destroy thou, in that same hour ! Surround thou me with flowers, Admit the sun to the room — *I do not attempt a metrical translation. The alternate lines rhyme in the original.— Teanslatoe. 136 VIRGIN SOIL Behind the closed doors Set thou musicians. Forbid them mournful plaint ! As at the hour of feasts, Let the audacious waltz shriek forth 'Neath bows of violins ! As I hear the vanishing sounds Of the strings as they die away, I, too, shall die, and fall asleep. . . . And troubling not with groan The silence of death impending, I shall pass to the other world, Lulled by the airy sounds Of airy earthly joy ! " When he wrote the word " friend " he was thinking still of Silin. He declaimed his poem in an undertone — and felt astonished that it had flowed from his pen. This scepticism, this indif- ference, this frivolous unbelief — how did it all accord with his principles, with what he had said at MarkelofF's? — He tossed the note-book into the table-drawer, and returned to his bed.— But he fell asleep just before dawn, when the first larks were already carolling in the whitening sky. On the following day he had just finished lessons and was sitting in the billiard-room, when Madame Sipyagin entered, looked around her with a smile, and stepping up to him, invited him to come to her boudoir. She wore a light 137 VIRGIN SOIL barege gown, very simple and very pretty: the sleeves, bordered with a ruche, only came as far as her elbows, a broad ribbon encircled her waist, her hair fell in thick masses on her neck. Every- thing about her was redolent of courtesy and affection — of cautious, encouraging aiFection — everything: the tempered brilliancy of her half- closed eyes, the soft languor of her voice, of her movements, of her very gait. Madame Sipya- gin conducted NezhdanofF to her boudoir, a cosey, pleasant room, all permeated with the fra- grance of flowers and perfumes, with the clean freshness of feminine attire, of constant feminine habitation; she seated him in an arm-chair, sat down beside him, and began to question him about his little excursion, about MarkelofF's manner of life— and so cautiously, gently, nicely! She dis- played genuine sympathy for the lot of her bro- ther, whom, up to that moment — in NezhdanofF's presence — she had never once mentioned. From some of her remarks one might have inferred that the feeling with which Marianna had inspired him had not escaped her notice; she fretted a little . . whether because Marianna had not shown reciprocity, or because her brother's choice had fallen upon a girl who was not congenial to her, did not appear. But the principal point was that she was openly endeavouring to subjugate NezhdanofF, to inspire him with confidence in her, to make him cease to feel shy. — Valentina 138 VIRGIN SOIL Mikhailovna even scolded him a little for entertaining a false impression with regard to her. Nezhdanoff listened to her, gazed at her arms, her shoulders, now and then cast a glance at her rosy lips, at her softly -waving masses of hair. — At first he made very brief replies ; he felt a cer- tain obstruction in his throat and breast . . . but, little by little, this sensation was supplanted by another, which was still uneasy, but yet not devoid of a certain sweetness; he had not, in the least, expected that such a great and beautiful lady, such an aristocrat, would be capable of taking an interest in him, a simple student; but she not only took an interest in him — she seemed even to be flirting a little with him. Nezhdanoff asked himself to what end was she doing all this ? — and found no answer; and, to tell the truth, he needed none. Madame Sipyagin began to talk about Kolya; she even began to assure Nezhda- noff that her sole reason for wishing to become more closely acquainted with him was that she might have a serious talk witli him about her son — in general, to learn his ideas on the subject of educating Russian children. The suddenness with which this desire had arisen in her might have appeared somewhat strange. But the point did not lie in the least in what Valentina Mikhai- lovna said, but in the fact that a sort of sensual impulse had overtaken her — the imperative neces- 139 VIRGIN SOIL sity of subjugating, of bringing to her feet this recalcitrant head, had cropped up in her. . . . But at this point we must turn back for a httle. Valentina Mikhailovna was the daughter of a very shallow-brained and not dashing general with one star, and a clasp for fifty years of ser- vice,— and of an extremely intriguing and crafty little Russian, endowed, like many of her com- patriots, with an extremely simple-minded and stupid appearance, from which she contrived to extract the utmost possible profit. Valentina Mikhailovna's parents were not wealthy; yet she had got into the Smolny Convent,^ where, al- though she was regarded as a republican, she was prominent and held in good esteem, because she studied diligently and behaved herself in an exemplary manner. On graduating from the Smolny Institute, she settled down, in company with her mother — (her brother had gone off to the country; the general, with his star and his clasp, was already dead) — in a neat but very cold apartment: when people talked in that apartment, steam could be seen issuing from their mouths; Valentina Mikhailovna laughed, and declared that it was " as it is in church." She bravely endured all the discomforts of a 1 The most fashionable and select of the Government Institutes for the education of girls from aristocratic families: in St. Petersburg. — Translator. 140 VIRGIN SOIL poor, circumscribed existence:— she had a won- derfully even temper. With her mother's aid she succeeded in keeping up her acquaintances and connections, and making new ones; every one spoke of her, even in the highest circles, as a very charming, very well-educated, and very de- corous young girl. Valentina Mikhailovna had several suitors; from among them all she chose Sipyagin, and made him love her very simply, promptly, and cleverly Moreover, he speedily comprehended that he would not be able to find himself any better wife. She was clever, not ill-tempered . . . good-tempered rather, in reality cold and indifferent .... and never ad- mitted the idea that any one could remain indif- ferent to her. Valentina Mikhailovna was per- meated with that special grace which is peculiar to "charming" egotists: — that grace contains neither poetry nor genuine sensibility, but does contain softness, sympathy, even tenderness. Only one must not thwart these fascinating ego- tists: they are greedy of power, and will not tol- erate independence in others. Women like Ma- dame Sipyagin arouse and agitate inexperienced and passionate men; they themselves love regu- larity and tranquillity of life. It is easy for them to be virtuous— they are cool-headed; but the con- stant desire to command, to attract, and to please imparts to them mobility and brilliancy : they have a strong will— and their very witchery depends 141 VIRGIN SOIL in part upon that strong will. ... It is difficult for a man to resist, when little flames of appar- ently involuntary secret tenderness begin to at- tack such a dazzling, inaccessible creature; he waits in the expectation that the time may at any moment arrive when the ice will melt; but the brilliant ice merely sparkles with rays of light and does not melt, and it can never be disturbed! It amounted to very little that Madame Sipya- gin should flirt: she knew very well that she was, and could be, in no danger whatever. And, never- theless, to make some one else's eyes alternately dim and flash, some one else's cheeks grow hot with desire and terrors, some one else's voice tremble and break, to disturb some one else's soul — oh, how sweet that was to lier soul! How joy- ful it was to recall late at night, as she laid herself down in her pure bed for untroubled slumber, — to recall all those agitated words and glances and sighs. With what a satisfied smile did she then retreat completely into herself, into the conscious sensation of her inaccessibility, of her impregna- bility — and condescendingly surrender herself to the legitimate caresses of her well-trained hus- band! It was so agreeable that she even was touched at times, and was ready to do a good deed to help her neighbour. . . . Once upon a time she had founded a tiny almshouse after the secretary at one of the Embassies, who was madly in love with her, had tried to cut his throat! She 142 VIRGIN SOIL had p?'ayed sincerely for him, although religious feeling had been weak in her from her earliest years. So she chatted with Nezhdanoff, and endeav- oured in every possible way to subjugate him " under her feet." She admitted him to her com- pany, she even appeared to open her heart to him, and with pretty curiosity, with semi-maternal tenderness, watched this far from homely, and interesting and surly radical gently and awk- wardly advance to meet her. A day, an hour, a minute later, and the whole thing would vanish, leaving no trace — but for the moment, she found it jolly, somewhat ridiculous, rather bothersome, — and even a little sad. Having forgotten his birth, and aware that that sort of attention is prized by lonely, shy men, Valentina Mikhailovna undertook to interrogate Nezhdanoff about his youth, his family. . . But instantaneously divin- ing, from his sharp and embarrassed replies, that she had got herself into a scrape, Valentina Mi- khailovna tried to efface her mistake, and became a trifle more expansive with him. . . . Thus does a blooming rose, in the languid heat of noonday, open out its fragrant petals, which the invigorat- ing coolness of the night will soon close up and twist together again. But she did not succeed in effacing her mistake altogether. — Touched on his sore spot, Nezhda- noff could no longer feel confidence as before. 143 VIRGIN SOIL Tlie bitterness which he always bore about with him, which he always felt in the depths of his soul, began to stir again; his democratic suspi- cions and reproaches awoke once more. — " I did not come hither for this," — he said to himself. Paklilin's jesting injunctions recurred to his mind .... and he availed himself of the first mo- ment of silence, rose from his seat, made a curt bow, and left the room — " very stupidly," as he involuntarily whispered to himself. His agitation did not escape Valentina Mi- khailovna . . . but judging from the smile wherewith she watched him, she interpreted his confusion in a manner advantageous to herself. In the billiard-room NezhdanofF came upon Marianna. She was standing with her back to a window not far from the door of the boudoir, with her hands tightly clasped. Her face lay in a shadow that was almost black ; but her bold eyes stared so interrogatively, so persistently at Nezh- danofF, her compressed lips expressed so much suspicion, such insulting pity, that he stopped short in perplexity "Do you wish to say anything to me?" — he involuntarily said. Marianna did not immediately reply. " No ... or, yes; I do. Only not now." "When?" "Wait. Perhaps— to-morrow; perhaps— never. 144 VIRGIN SOIL You see, I know you very little — just what sort of a man you are." " But,"— began Nezhdanoff,— " it has some- times seemed to me .... that between us " " And you do not know me at all," — broke in Marianna. — " So, wait. To-morrow, perhaps. But now I must go to my .... mistress. Fare- well until to-morrow." NezhdanofF advanced a couple of paces, — but suddenly turned back. " Akh, yes ! Marianna Vikentievna .... I have been wanting to ask you: will not you per- mit me to go with you to the school — to see how you occupy yourself there — before they close it? " " If you like. . . Only it was not about the school that I wished to speak to you." " What was it about, then? " " Farewell until to-morrow,"— repeated Mari- anna. But she did not wait until the morrow, and the conversation between her and NezhdanoiF came off that same evening, in one of the linden alleys which began not far from the terrace. 145 XIII She herself was the first to approach him. " Mr. Nezhdanoff,"— she began, in a hurried voice, — " you appear to be completely bewitched by Valentina Mikliailovna? " She turned away without waiting for an an- swer, and walked down the avenue; and he walked by her side. "Why do you think so?" — he asked, after waiting a little. " But is n't it true? If it is not, she has man- aged badly to-day. I can imagine what pains she took, and how she spread her little nets! " Nezhdanoff uttered not a word, and only gazed askance at his strange interlocutor. " Hearken," — she went on:—" I am not going to dissemble : I do not like Valentina Mikliailovna — and you know that very well. I may seem un- just to you . . . but you must first consider . . . ." Marianna's voice broke. She blushed, she be- came agitated. . . Her agitation always assumed the aspect of ostensible anger. " You are probably asking yourself," — she be- gan again, — " ' Why does this young lady tell me this ? ' You must have thought the same thing 146 VIRGIN SOIL when I imparted to you the information .... concerning Mr. MarkelofF." She suddenly bent down, plucked a small mush- room, broke it in two, and flung it aside. " You are mistaken, Marianna Vikentievna," —said NezhdanofF:— " on the contrary, I thought that I had inspired you with confidence — and that thought was very pleasant to me." NezhdanofF was not speaking the whole truth : that thought had only that moment entered his head. Marianna instantly cast a glance at him. Up to that moment she had kept persistently turned away from him. " It was not exactly that you inspired me with confidence," — she said, as though considering the matter,—" for you are an utter stranger to me. . — But your position and my own are very sim- ilar. Both of us are equally unhappy; that is the bond which unites us." " Are j^ou unliappy? " — inquired Xezhdanoff. " And you — are not you? " — replied Marianna. He said nothing. " Do you know my historj^? "—she began with animation: — "the history of my father? of his exile? — No? Well, then, you must know that he was arrested, found guilty, deprived of his rank and of everything — and exiled to Siberia. Then he died . . . and my mother died also. My uncle, Mr. Sipyagin, my mother's bro- 147 VIRGIN SOIL ther, took charge of me— I am eating his bread — he is my benefactor and— Valentina Mikhai- lovna is my benefactress — and I repay them with black ingratitude, — it must be because I have a hard heart — and another man's bread is bitter— and I cannot endure condescending in- sults — and I will not endure being patronised . . . and I cannot conceal my feelings — and when I am incessantly subjected to pin-pricks I refrain from crying out, merely because I am proud." As she uttered these fragmentary remarks Marianna walked on faster and faster. All at once she stopped short. " Do you know that my aunt, merely with the object of getting rid of me, destines me to that detestable KallomyeitzefF?— But she knows my convictions — I am a nihilist in her eyes — while he! — Of course he does not like me — you see that I am not handsome— but I may be sold. That, also, is a good deed ! " " Why do you . . . ." Nezhdanoff was begin- ning — and hesitated. Marianna instantly glanced at him. " Why have not I accepted Mr. MarkelofF's proposal— you mean to say, don't you? Yes; but what am I to do? He is a good man. But I am not to blame ; I do not love him." Again Marianna walked on ahead, as though desirous of relieving her companion from the ob- 148 VIRGIN SOIL, ligation to make any reply to this unexpected avowal. They both reached the end of the avenue. Ma- rianna turned briskly into a narrow path, which was laid out through a dense spruce-grove, and proceeded along it.— NezhdanofF followed Mari- anna.— He felt doubly surprised: the manner in which this strange girl was suddenly talking with candour to him struck him as amazing,— and still more was he astonished that his candour did not in the least surprise him— that he regarded it as natural. Marianna suddenly wheeled round— and halted in the middle of the path, so that her face was not more than a couple of feet from Nezhda- nofF's face, and her eyes pierced directly into his eyes. " Alexyei Dmitritch,"— she said,—" do not think that my aunt is wicked. . . No ! she is thor- oughly—false, she is a comedian, she is fond of posing— she wants to have every one adore her — and worship her, as though she were a saint ! She thinks up a cordial remark, and says it to one per- son,— and then she repeats that same remark to a second and a third person— and always with the same air, as though she had only just thought of it— and in connection with it, she uses her magnifi- cent eyes ! She knows herself perfectly well— she knows that she resembles a Madonna, and she loves no one! She pretends that she is always 149 VIRGIN SOIL worrying over Kolya— but all she does is to talk him over with clever people. She wishes no harm to any one . . . she is all benevolence!— But if they were to break all the bones in your body in her presence — she would not care a jot! She would not move a finger to rescue you; — but if it were necessary or profitable to herself . . . then .... oh, then ! " Marianna paused. Rancour was choking her; she had made up her mind to set it at liberty, she could not restrain herself — but her speech in- voluntarily broke off short. Marianna belonged to a peculiar category of unhappy people (they have begun to make their appearance pretty fre- quently in Russia). . . . Justice satisfies but does not gladden them; while injustice, to which they are frightfully sensitive, stirs them up to the very bottom of the soul.— While she was speaking NezhdanofF gazed attentively at her; her reddened face, with her slightly dishevelled short hair, and the tremulous twitching of her thin lips, struck him as menacing and significant, —and beautiful. The sunlight, intercepted by the thick network of the branches, lay upon her brow in a slanting golden stain; and that fiery tongue harmonised with the excited expression of her whole countenance, with the widely-opened, fixed, and sparkling eyes, with the burning sound of her voice. " Tell me," — NezhdanofF suddenly asked her, 150 VIRGIN SOIL — " why did you call me unhappy? Do you know anything about my past ? " Marianna nodded her head. " Yes." " That is to say .... what do you know? Has any one told you about me? " " I know . . . about your birth." "You know. . . Who told you?" " Why, that same person — that same Valentina Mikhailovna, with whom you are so enchanted. She did not omit to mention in my presence — as a passing remark, after her usual fashion, but still distinctly — not with pity, but as a woman of liberal views, who is above all prejudices — that such and such an accident existed in the life of our new tutor! Pray do not feel surprised: Valentina Mikhailovna, in the same casual man- ner and with commiseration, imparts to almost every visitor that ' this sort of an ... . acci- dent . . exists in the life of my niece : her father was sent to Siberia for taking bribes.' No mat- ter how much of an aristocrat she may consider herself to be, she is simply a scandal-monger and poseuse — that Raphael Madonna of yours! " " Pray, why is she ' my ' Madonna? " remarked NezhdanofF. Marianna turned away, and again proceeded along the path. " You and she had such a long conversation together," — she said dully. 151 VIRGIN SOIL " I hardly uttered a single word,"— replied NezhdanofF:— "she talked the whole time her- self." Marianna walked on in silence. But now the path made a turn to one side; the spruce-grove seemed to open out and reveal ahead a small glade with a hollow weeping birch in the centre, and a circular bench which surrounded the aged tree. Marianna seated herself on this bench; NezhdanofF placed himself beside her. Over the heads of both long tufts of drooping boughs, covered with tiny green leaves, swayed gently to and fro. Round about among the sparse grass lilies-of-the-valley gleamed whitely, and from the whole glade welled up the fresh fragrance of the young herbage, which agreeably relieved the lungs, still oppressed by resinous exhalations. " You wish to go with me to inspect the school here,"— began Marianna;— " well, let us go.— Only ... I do not know. You will not take much satisfaction in it. You have heard : our head teacher is— the deacon. He is a good man, but you cannot imagine what things he talks about to his pupils! Among them is one boy . . . his name is Garasya— he is an orphan, ten years of / age— and, just imagine! he studies better than all the rest! " In suddenly changing the subject of conver- sation, Marianna herself seemed to undergo a change also: she turned pale and silent, and her 15^ r VIRGIN SOIL face expressed emotion, as though she were ashamed of all that she had been saying. Obvi- ously, she wished to lead Nezhdanoif to some " question " or other— the school question, the question of the peasants — anything to avoid continuing in their former vein. But he was not in the mood for " questions " at that moment. " Marianna Vikentievna," — he began, " I will say to you frankly : I never expected all this . . . that has taken place between us."— (At the words " taken place " she pricked up her ears a little.) — " It seems to me that we have suddenly come very close together. That is as it should be. We have been advancing toward each other for a long time ; only, we have put it into words. — And therefore I will speak to you without concealment. — You find life difficult and painful in this house; but your uncle, although shallow- pated, is, so far as I can judge of him, a humane man ? Does not he understand your position, does not he take your part? " " My uncle? In the first place, he is not a man at all; he is an official— a senator,^ or a Minister ... I really do not know what. And, in the second place, ... I do not care to com- plain and tell tales unnecessarily: I do not find life here difficult or painful in the least — that is to say, I am not persecuted here ; my aunt's little *A member of the Supreme Judicial Court.— Translatoh. 153 VIRGIN SOIL pin-pricks are nothing to me, really ... I am perfectly free." NezhdanoiF cast a glance of surprise at Mari- anna. " In that case .... everything that you have just been telling me . . . ." " You are at liberty to laugh at me,"— she in- terposed:—" but if I am unhappy, it is not with my own unhappiness. — It sometimes seems to me that I suffer on behalf of all the oppressed, the poor, the wretched in Russia ... no, I do not suffer . . . but I am indignant on their behalf, I rage ... so that I am ready to lay down my life for them. I am unhappy because I am a young lady, a parasite, that I do not know how to do anything— anything whatever! When my fa- ther was in Siberia, and my mother and I re- mained in Moscow,— akh, how I longed to go to him!— and that, not because I either loved or respected him very much— but I did so want to find out for myself, to behold with my own eyes, how the exiles .... the persecuted . . . live .... And how vexed I was at myself, and at all those calm, well-to-do, satiated people! .... And then, when he came back, worn out, broken in health, and began to humble himself, to worry and search . . . akh . . how painful that was! How well it was that he died . . . and my mother also! But I remained alive. ... To what end? In order to feel that I have a bad disposition, that 154. VIRGIN SOIL I am ungrateful, that no one can get on with me — and that I can do nothing, nothing — for any- thing or for any one ! " Marianna bent to one side— her hand slipped down on the bench. Nezhdanoff felt very sorry for her; he touched that hanging hand . . . but Marianna immediately jerked it away, not be- cause NezhdanofF's gesture struck her as im- proper, but lest he— which God forbid— should think that she was asking for sympathy. A woman's garment glinted through the boughs of the spruce-grove. Marianna straightened herself up. — " Look there, your Madonna has sent out her spy. That maid has to keep watch of me, and report to her mistress where I go, and with whom! — My aunt has probably guessed that I am with you, — con- siders it indecorous — especially after the senti- mental scene which she acted out before you. And, in fact, it is time to go home. Let us set out." Marianna rose; Nezhdanoff also rose from his seat. She glanced at him over her shoulder, and suddenly there flitted across her face an expres- sion which was almost childlike, charming, rather confused. " I hope you are not angry with me? You do not think that I, too, have been showing off to you? — No, you do not think so," — she went on, before Nezhdanoff could make her any answer, — 155 VIRGIN SOIL " for you are just such another as myself,— an unhappy being,— and you, also, have a bad dispo- sition, like myself.— And to-morrow we will go together to the school, because now, you know, we are good friends." When Marianna and Nezhdano:^* approached the house, Valentina Mikhailovna was staring at them through her lorgnette from the elevation of the terrace — and, with her usual gentle smile, was shaking her head ; and returning through the open glass door to the drawing-room, where Sipyagin was still sitting over his game of preference, with a toothless neighbour who had dropped in to tea, she said loudly, and in a deliberate drawl, sepa- rating syllable from syllable: " How damp it is out of doors! It is un healthful!" Marianna exchanged a glance with Nezhda- noff ; but Sipyagin, who had just out-trumped his partner, cast at his wife a truly ministerial glance, obliquely and upward across his cheek — and then transferred that same sleepily cold, but penetrating glance to the young pair who had just entered from the dark garden. 156 XIV Two weeks more passed. — Everything went on in its wonted routine. Sipyagin portioned out the daily duties — if not like a minister, then certainly like the director of a department — and bore him- self, as before, loftily, humanely, and in a some- what fastidious manner; Kolya took his lessons; Anna Zakharovna was tormented with constant, oppressive spite; guests arrived, talked, waged battle at cards — and, to all appearances, were not bored; Valentina Mikhailovna continued to trifle with NezhdanofF — although something in the na- ture of good-natured irony had begun to mingle with her amiability. With JNIarianna, Nezhdanoff had become definitively on intimate terms — and, to his astonishment, he found that she had a toler- ably even temper, and that it was possible to con- verse with her on every subject without coming into conflict with harsh contradictions. — In her company he twice visited the school, — but at his first visit he became convinced that there was noth- ing for him to do there. The reverend deacon taught reading and writing not badly, although in old-fashioned style— but at the examinations he propounded somewhat absurd questions; for 157 VIRGIN SOIL example, he one day asked Garasya: " how wilt thou explain the expression : ' the water is dark in the clouds? ' " — to which Garasya replied, in ac- cordance with information which must have been derived from the father deacon himself: " It is in- explicable." However, the school was soon closed, — on account of the summer season— until the au- tumn. — Calling to mind the exhortations of Pakhlin and others, ISTezhdanofF endeavoured also to come into close relations with the peasants ; but he speedily perceived that he was simply studying them to the extent of his own powers of observa- tion—and not making propaganda at all! He had spent almost all his life in the town, — and between him and the country people there existed a gulf, or a ditch, across which he could in no wise leap. Nezhdanoff had occasion to exchange a few words with Kirilo the sot, and also with "Porpoise" Mendelyei; but, strange to say, he seemed to feel timid in their presence, and with the exception of a very general and very curt curse, he got nothing from them. Another peasant— his name was Fitiueif— simply drove him to his wits' end. This peasant had a re- markably energetic, almost brigand-like face. . . " Well, this fellow certainly must be trust- worthy!" — said Nezhdanoff to himself. . . And what happened? Fitiiieff turned out to be a landless peasant: the Commune had de- prived him of his land because he— a healthy and 158 VIRGIN SOIL even powerful man — could not work. — " I can't!" — sobbed FitiuefF himself, with a deep, inward groan, heaving a long sigh:— "I can't work! kill me! — Or I '11 lay hands on myself! " — And he ended by asking alms — just a little cop- per for bread. . . And his face was like that of Rinaldo Rinaldi! — NezhdanofF had no success whatever with the factory-hands ; all those young fellows were either frightfully alert or fright- fully gloomy . . . and nothing came of Nezhda- nolF's efforts with them. In this connection, he wrote a long letter to his friend Silin, in which he complained bitterly of his own ignorance, and attributed it to his own bad education and abom- inable aesthetic nature ! He suddenlj'^ took it into his head that his vocation — in the matter of the propaganda — was to act, not with the living word of mouth, but by writing; but the pamphlets which he planned came to nothing. Everything which he tried to set down on paper produced upon himself the impression of something false, strained, untruthful in tone, in language, — and a couple of times, oh, horrors! — he involuntarily branched off into poetry, or into sceptical, per- sonal effusions. He even made up his mind (an important token of confidence and intimacy ! ) . . . to speak of his ill-success to JNIarianna .... and again, to his surprise, he found in her sympathy —not for his literary productions, of course— but for that moral malady with which he was suff er- 159 VIRGIN SOIL ing, and which was no stranger to her. Marl- anna rebelled against aesthetics as strongly as he did;— and was that the real reason why she had not fallen in love with MarkelofF and had not married him, that there was not a single trace of that a?stheticism in him?— As a matter of course, JMarianna did not dare to admit this even to her- self ; but, after all, only that is strong in us which remains to us ourselves a half -suspected secret. And so the days ran on— slowly, unevenly, but not tediously. Something strange took place in NezhdanofF. He was dissatisfied with himself, with his activity —that is to say, with his lack of activity; his re- marks almost always reeked of the gall and viru- lence of self-flagellation; but in his soul, some- where, very far within, things were not so bad; he even experienced a certain sense of solace. Whether this was the result of the country tran- quillity, the air, the summer, the savoury food, the comfortable existence,— whether it arose from the fact that, for the first time since he was born, it had fallen to his lot to taste the sweetness of con- tact with a feminine soul— it would be difficult to say; but, in reality, he felt light at heart, al- though he made complaint— genuine complaint— to his friend Silin. But this mood of NezhdanofF's was suddenly and violently destroyed— in one day. On the morning of that day he received a note 160 VIRGIN SOIL from Vasily Nikolaevitch, in which he was or- dered, in company with JNIarkelofF, — while await- ing further instructions, — instantly to make ac- quaintance and come to an agreement with that Solomin who has already been mentioned, and with a certain merchant Goliishkin, an Old Ritu- alist,^ who resided in S. This letter thoroughly disquieted NezhdanoiF : he detected in it a reproof for his inaction. The bitterness which, all that time, had been seething in his words alone, now rose once more in the depths of his soul. KallomyeitzefF came to dinner, preoccupied and irritable. — " Imagine," — he cried, in a voice that was almost tearful,—" what a horror I have just read in the newspaper:— " my friend, my dear ]Mildiailo, the Prince of Servia, has been murdered in Belgrade by some miscreants! — To what lengths will these Jacobins and revolution- ists proceed, if we do not put a firm limit to them!" — Sipyagin "permitted himself to re- mark," that that abominable murder had not, in all probability, been committed by Jacobins — " who are not allowed in Servia," — but by men of the Karageorgevitch i)arty, the enemies of the Obrenovitches. . . . But KallomyeitzeiF would hear to nothing, and in the same tearful voice he again began to narrate how the deceased prince 1 The Old Ritualists, or schismatics (raskolniki), are the sect which did not accept the necessary corrections of errors in the Scriptures and church service-boolis, made during the reign of Peter the Great's father.— Translator. 161 VIRGIN SOIL had loved him, and what a gun he had given him ! .... Gradually waxing angry, and rising into a passion, KallomyeitzefF turned from foreign Jacobins to domestic nihilists and socialists— and, at last, burst out into a regular invective. Grasp- ing a large white roll in both hands, in fashionable style, and breaking it in two over his plate of soup, as the genuine Parisians do at the " Cafe Riche," — he announced a desire to smash, to pul- verise all those who offered oj)j)osition ... to an ji:hing or anybody whatsoever ! . . . That was precisely the way in which he expressed himself. — " It is time, high time! "—he kept repeating, as he put his spoon into his mouth: — " it is time, high time ! " he insisted, as he held up his wine-glass to the servant who was pouring out the sherry. He alluded reverently to the great Moscow publicists — and JLadislaSj notre hon et cher Ladislas, never left his tongue.— And all the while he kept fixing his gaze on NezhdanofF, exactly as though he were saying familiarly to him with it.—" Here, take that! here 's a blow for thee! that 's aimed at thee! And here 's another!"— At last, the latter lost his patience — and began to retort — in a voice which trembled somewhat, it is true (of course, not with timidity) , and was rather hoarse; he began to defend the hopes, the principles, the ideals of the young generation. Kallomyeitzeff instantly began to squeak — wrath always mani- fested itself in his case by a falsetto tone — and be- 163 VIRGIN SOIL came rude. Sipyagin majestically took Nezh- danofF's part ; Valentma IMikhailovna also agreed with her husband; Amia Zakharovna began to divert Kolya's attention, and hurled angry glances, at random, from beneath her over-hang- ing cap ; ]Marianna did not stir, and seemed to be petrified. But all at once, on hearing the name of Ladislas uttered for the twentieth time, NezhdanofF flared up thoroughly, and bringing his palm down on the table with a bang, exclaimed: " So that 's your authority! — As though we did not know what sort of a fellow that Ladislas is! — He is a born instigator, — and nothing more! " " A ... a ... ah ... so that 's it . . . that 's . . . what you 're driving at! " — groaned KallomyeitzefF, stammering with rage. ..." You permit yourself to speak thus of a man whom personages like Count Bismarck and Prince Ko- vrizhkin respect! " Nezhdanofl" shrugged his shoulders. — "A fine recommendation : Prince Kovrizhkin, that lackey- enthusiast " " Ladislas is my friend,"— shrieked Kallo- myeitzefF, — " he is my comrade — and I . . ." " So much the worse for you,"— interrupted NezhdanofF;— " that signifies that j^ou share his mode of thought, and so my words refer also to you." KallomyeitzefF turned deadly pale with rage. 163 VIRGIN SOIL — " Wha .... wha-at? What do you mean? How dare you? You ou . . . ought ... to be immediately . . . ." " What is it your pleasure to do with me im- mediately? " — interrupted NezhdanofF for the second time, with ironical politeness. God knows how this f rav between the two ene- mies would have ended, had not Sipyagin put a stop to it in its very inception. Raising his voice, and assuming a mien, as to which it cannot be said whether there predominated in it the impor- tance of the statesman or the dignity of the mas- ter of the house— he announced, with firm com- posure, that he did not wish to hear such intem- perate expressions at his table; that he had long since established a rule (he corrected himself, "a sacred rule"), for himself, to respect every sort of conviction, but only on condition— (here he raised his forefinger, adorned with a signet- ring), that they should be confined within certain limits of propriety and decorum; that if he, on his side, could not help condemning in Mr. Nezh- danofF a certain intemperance of language, which, moreover, was to be excused on account of his youth, on the other hand, neither could he lend his approbation to Mr. KallomyeitzefF in the harsh- ness of his attack on persons of the opposite camp — a harshness which was to be explained, however, by his zeal for the public welfare. " Beneath my roof,"— thus he wound up,— 164 VIRGIN SOIL " beneath the roof of the Sipyagins there are no Jacobins, no instigators, but there are only con- scientious people, who, one of these days will em- brace one another, and will, infallibly, end by shaking hands with one another! " NezhdanofF and KallomyeitzeiF both relapsed into silence — but they did not shake hands with each other. On the contrary, never before had they felt such a strong mutual hatred. The din- ner ended in a disagreeable and awkward silence ; Sipyagin made an effort to narrate a diplomatic anecdote — but abandoned it half-way through. Marianna stared persistently at her plate. She did not wish to exhibit the sympathy aroused in her by Nezhdanoif 's remarks, not out of pusil- lanimity — oh, no; but the first thing of all was, not to betray herself to Madame Sipyagin. And, as a matter of fact, IMadame Sipyagin never took her eyes off of her — off of her and NezhdanofF. His unexpected outburst had at first astonished the clever lady ; afterward, a sudden light seemed to dawn upon her — and so forcibly, that she whis- pered involuntarily: — "All!" . . . She sud- denly divined that NezhdanofF had turned away from her, that same NezhdanofF, who so recently had been falling into her clutches. Something had happened. . . Was not Marianna responsi- ble? Yes, it certainly was Marianna. . . He pleased her . . . yes, and he ... . " I must take measures," so she concluded her 165 VIRGIN SOIL meditations, and, in the meantime, KallomyeitzefF was choking with rage. Even while playing at preference, two hours later, he uttered the words: " I pass! " or '* I draw! " with an aching heart— and in his voice the dull tremolo of affront was audible, although he made a show of " scorn- ing it." — Sipyagin alone was, properly speaking, extremely satisfied with himself, with this entire scene. He had had an opportunity to display the force of his eloquence, and of stilling the rising storm. . . . He knew the Latin tongue, and Vir- gil's phrase, " Quos ego! " was not unfamiliar to him. He did not consciously compare himself to Neptune ; but somehow, he called him to mind in a sympathetic way. J66 XV As soon as he found it possible, NezhdanofF be- took himself to his chamber, and locked himself in! — He did not wish to see any one — not any one whatever, except Marianna. Her room was situ- ated at the very end of a long corridor, which in- tersected the entire upper story. Nezhdanoff had entered it only once— and that for only a few moments; but it seemed to him, that she would not be offended with him if he were to knock at her door, that she even wished to talk over matters with him. It was already rather late, about ten o'clock ; the host and hostess, after the scene which had taken place at dinner, had not thought it right to disturb him, and had continued to play cards with Kallomyeitzeff . Valentina INIikhailovna in- quired for Marianna a couple of times as she, also, had disappeared after dinner.—" Where is Mari- anna Vikentievna? "—she asked, first in Russian, then in French, not addressing herself to any one in particular, but rather to the walls, as very much surprised people are wont to do ; but she soon be- came engrossed in her game. Nezhdanoff paced up and down his room sev- eral times, then went down the corridor, toward 167 VIRGIN SOIL Marianna's door, and knocked softly. There was no response. He knocked again— he tried to oj^en the door. . . It turned out to be locked. But before he could regain his own room, and seat himself on a chair, his own door creaked faintly, and Marianna's voice made itself heard. " Alexyei Dmitritch, was it you who came to my room? " He instantly sprang up and rushed into the corridor; Marianna was standing in front of the door, with a candle in her hand, pale and motion- less. " Yes ... it was I . . ."he whispered. " Come,"— she replied, and went down the cor- ridor ; but before reaching the end, she halted, and thrust open with her hand a low door. Nezhda- nofF beheld a small, almost emj)ty room.—" It is better for us to come in here, Alexyei Dmitritch, no one will disturb us here." NezhdanofF obeyed, Marianna set the candle down on the window-sill and turned to NezhdanofF. " I understand why you wished to see me, in particular,"— she began:—" You find life in this house very difficult — and so do I." " Yes; I wanted to see you, Marianna Viken- tievna,"— replied NezhdanoiF; — " but I have not found things difficult here, since I came to know you well." Marianna smiled thoughtfully. " Thank you, Alexyei Dmitritch— but tell me, 168 VIRGIN SOIL is it possible that you intend to remain here after all tliese outrageous proceedings? " " I think I shall not be allowed to remain here, — I shall be dismissed! " — replied NezhdanofF. " And you will not resign of your own ac- cord?" " Of my own accord. . . . ISTo." "Why?" " Do you wish to know the truth ? Because you are here." Marianna bowed her head, and retreated a little further into the depths of the room. " And, more than that," — pursued ISTezhda- noiF, — " I am hound to remain here. You know nothing — but I wish, I feel that I ought to tell you eveiy thing." — He stepped uj) to Marianna, and seized her hand. — She did not take it away — and merely looked him in the face. — " Listen! " — he exclaimed with a sudden, mighty impulse. — "Listen to me!" — And immediately, without seating himself on one of the two or three chairs which were in the room, and continuing to stand in front of Marianna, and to hold her hand, Nezh- danoiF with enthusiasm, with warmth, with an eloquence which was unexpected even to himself, communicated to Marianna his plans, his inten- tions, the reason he had accepted Sipyagin's pro- posal,— all his connections, acquaintances, his past, everything which he had been wont to con- ceal, which he had never told to any one! He 169 VIRGIN SOIL mentioned the letters he had received from Vasily Nikolaevitch, everything— even Sihn!— he talked hurriedly, without hesitation, without the slight- est faltering — as though he reproached himself for not having hitherto initiated Marianna into all his secrets — as though he were excusing him- self to her. — She listened to him attentively, eagerly; at first she was surprised. . . But that sensation immediately vanished. Gratitude, pride, devotion, decision — was what filled her face to overflowing. Her face, her eyes beamed; she laid her other hand on Nezhdanoff' s hand — her lips opened in ecstasy. . . She had suddenly grown terribly beautiful. He stopped at last — glanced at her, and it seemed as though he beheld for the first time that face, which was also so dear and so familiar to him. He heaved a profound, a mighty sigh. . . " Akh, how well I have done to tell you all I " — his lips were barely able to articulate. " Yes, you have done well . . you have done well! " — she repeated, also in a whisper. She in- voluntarily imitated him— and her voice died away. — " And, of course, you know," she went on, — " that I am at your disposal, that I also wish to be of use in your affair, that I am ready to do everything that is necessary, to go anywhere that I may be ordered, that I always, with all my soul, have wished the same as you. . ." 170 VIRGIN SOIL She, too, fell silent. One word more— and tears of emotion would have gushed from her eyes. Her whole sturdy being had suddenly be- come as soft as wax. The thirst for activity, for sacrifice, for immediate sacrifice— that was what was causing her to languish. Some one's footsteps approached the door — cautious, swift, light footsteps. Marianna sud- denly drew herself up, released her hands — and inmiediately underwent a complete change, and grew merry. A scornful, even an audacious ex- pression flitted across her face. " I know who is eavesdropping on us at this moment,"— she said so loudly that her every word re-echoed plainly in the corridor — " Madame Si- pyagin is listening to us . . . but I care nothing for that." The rustle of footsteps ceased. " So what now? "—Marianna turned to Nezh- danofF; " what am I to do? how can I help you? Speak .... speak quickly! What am I to do?" " What? "-said NezhdanoiF.-" I do not yet know myself. ... I have received a note from MarkelofF. . ." "When? When?" " This evening. I must go to-morrow with him to Solomin, at the works." " Yes . . . yes. . . . He 's a splendid man, — MarkelofF. There 's a real friend!" 171 VIRGIN SOIL " The same as myself? " INIariamia looked Nezhdanoff straight in the face. " No— not the same." "How then?" She suddenly turned away. " Akli! but is it possible that you do not know what you have become to me, and what I feel at this moment. . . ." NezhdanoiF's heart suddenly began to beat violently, and his gaze involuntarily dropped. That young girl, who had fallen in love with him, — with him, a homeless wretch, — who was trust- ing herself to him, who was ready to follow him, to advance with him to one and the same goal, — that splendid girl — Marianna — at that moment became for Nezhdanoff the incarnation of every- thing good, everything upright on the earth — the incarnation of family, love, the love of sister, of wife, which he had never known, — the incarna- tion of his native land, of happiness, of struggle, of freedom ! He raised his head— and beheld her eyes again directed upon him. . . . Oh, how their bright, glorious gaze penetrated into the very depths of his soul! " So,"— he began in an uncertain voice, — " I set out to-morrow. . . . And when I come back, I will tell .... you . . ." (he suddenly found it embarrassing to call Marianna " you ") — " I 172 VIRGIN SOIL will tell you what I have learned, what has been decided upon. Henceforth, everything that I shall do, everything that I shall think — every- thing, everything, shall first be known to ... . thee." "Oh, my friend! "—exclaimed Marianna— and again she grasped his hand. " I make thee the same promise! " That " thee " she uttered as easily and as simply as though it were not possible to do otherwise — as though it were a comradely, " thou." " And may I see the letter? " " Here it is, here." ]\Iarianna glanced over the letter, and raised her eyes to him, almost with reverence. " Do they impose such weighty commissions on thee?" He smiled at her by way of reply, and thrust the letter into his pocket. "It is strange," — he said: — "here we have made a confession of love to each other — we love each other— and there has not been a word of that between us." "Why should there be?" — whispered Mari- anna, and suddenly flung herself on his neck, and pressed her head to his shoulder. . . . But they did not even kiss each other— that would have been commonplace and awkward, for some reason or other— at least, that was the way they both 173 VIRGIN SOIL felt about it — and they immediately parted, with a mutual warm pressure of the hand. Marianna returned for the candle, which she had left on the window-sill of the empty room — and only then did something in the nature of sur- prise overwhelm her. She extinguished the light, and, in profound darkness, swiftly slipped along the corridor, returned to her chamber, undressed, and lay down in that darkness which was so de- lightful to her, for some reason or other. •J 74 XVI On the following morning, when NezhdanofF awoke, he not only did not feel any confusion at the recollection of what had taken place on the preceding day, — but, on the contrary, he was filled with a certain good and sober joy, as though he had done something which, in reality, he ought to have done long ago. Asking leave of absence for a couple of days from Mr. Sipyagin, who gave immediate, but stern consent to his absence — NezhdanofF went off to Markeloff. Before his departure, he contrived to see Marianna. — She, also, was not in the least ashamed, wore a calm and decided look, and coolly called him thou. She was disturbed merely over what he would hear from Markeloff, and begged him to tell her everything. " That is a matter of course," — replied Nezh- danoff. " And, in fact," — he said to himself, — " what occasion is there for us to worry? In our friend- ship personal feeling has played a secondary part — yet we have become irrevocably bound to- gether. In the name of the cause? Yes, in the name of the cause! " 175 VIRGIN SOIL Thus thought NezhdanoiF,— and he himself did not suspect how much of truth— and of un- trutli— there was in his thoughts. He found MarkeloiF in the same languid and morose frame of mind. When they had dined, after a fashion, on something or other, they set out in the tarantas with which we are already ac- quainted— (MarkelofF's horse was still lame, and they had hired a second side horse, which was very young, and had never yet worked in harness, from a peasant) — to the big cotton-spinning factory of merchant FalyeefF, where Solomin lived. NezhdanofF's curiosity was excited; he was very anxious to make closer acquaintance with the man, concerning whom he had heard so much of late. Solomin had been forewarned; as soon as the two travellers drew up at the gate of the factory, and mentioned their names, they were immedi- ately conducted to the plain little wing occupied by the " mechanician-superintendent." He him- self was in the main building of the factory ; while one of the factory -hands ran to fetch him, Nezh- danofF and MarkelofF had time to step to the window and look about them. The factory was, obviously, in a most thriving condition, and over- whelmed with work; thence emanated a brisk hum and roar of incessant activity: the machin- ery panted and pounded, the wheels whirred, the straps slapped, wheelbarrows, casks, laden carts rolled past and vanished from sight; shouts of 176 VIRGIN SOIL command, the clangour of bells and whistles rang out; workmen, in belted blouses, their long hair confined with a strap, working-girls, in print gowns, ran hurriedly past ; horses in harness were moving about. Human force, a thousand men strong, roared round about as taut as a string. Everything was proceeding in an orderly, rational manner, in full swing ; not only was there no ele- gance or punctuality observable, there was not even cleanliness anywhere or in anything; on the contrary — in every direction one was struck with the negligence, dirt, soot; here a window-pane was broken, there the plaster had peeled off, boards were missing, a gate yawned wide-open; a huge, black pool, with an iridescent scum of putrid matter stood in the middle of the main courtyard; further on, heaps of discarded bricks reared themselves aloft ; fragments of linden-bast sacking, of raw-hide wrappers, packing-cases, ropes, were lying about ; shaggy dogs were roam- ing around with hollow bellies, and not even bark- ing; in one corner, under the fence, sat a little boy, four years of age, with a huge belly, and dis- hevelled head, all smeared with soot, — there he sat and wept desperately, as though abandoned by the whole world ; alongside him, smeared with the same soot, a sow, surrounded by her piebald litter, was devouring cabbage-stalks; ragged underclothing was dangling on a line which had been stretched— and what stench, what a fetid 177 VIRGIN SOIL atmosphere there was everywhere!— A Russian factory— in short; not a German or a French manufactory. NezhdanofF cast a glance at MarkelofF. " I have been told so much about Solomin's superior capacities," — he began, — " that, I must confess, this disorder surprises me ; I had not ex- pected it." " There 's no disorder here," — replied Marke- lofF, gruffly, — " but only Russian slovenliness. Nevertheless, the business earns millions! And he has to adapt himself to old customs, — and to business, — and to the owner himself. Have you any idea what FalyeefF is like? " " None whatever." " He 's the worst skinflint in Moscow. In one word — a miserly curmudgeon." At that moment Solomin entered the room. NezhdanoiF was obliged to undergo a disenchant- ment, just as he had with regard to the factory. At first sight, Solomin produced the impression of being a Finn, or, rather, a Swede. He was lofty of stature, tow-headed, thin, broad-shoul- dered; he had a long, yellow face, a short, broad nose, very small greenish eyes, a calm gaze, thick lips which curled upward ; white teeth, also large, and a cleft chin barely overgrown with down. He was dressed like a workman, a stoker ; on his body he wore an old pea-jacket with pendent pockets, on his head an oil-cloth crushed cap, on his neck 178 VIRGIN SOIL a woollen scarf, on his feet tarred boots. He was accompanied by a man of forty, in a plain, long, peasant coat, with remarkably mobile, gipsy face and piercing, coal-black eyes, with which, as soon as he entered, he took a comprehensive survey of Nezhdanoff . . . . He already knew Markeloff . His name was Pavel: he was regarded as Solo- min's factotum. Solomin approached his two visitors in a lei- surely manner, pressed the hand of each of them with his calloused, bony hand, took out of the ta- ble-drawer a sealed packet, and handed it, still in silence, to Pavel, who immediately left the room. Then he stretched and yawned; flinging his cap off the nape of his neck to a distance, with one sweep of his hand, he seated himself on a small painted wooden chair, and motioning Markeloff and ISTezhdanofF to a divan of the same sort, he said: — " Pray, be seated! " MarkeloiF first introduced Solomin and Nezh- danoff ; Solomin immediately gave the latter his hand again. — Then Markeloff began to talk of " the cause," mentioned Vasity Nikolaevitch's let- ter. Nezhdanoff gave the letter to Solomin. While he read it, attentively and without haste, moving his eyes from line to line, Nezhdanoff looked at him. Solomin was sitting near the win- dow; the sun, which was already low in the sky, brilliantly illuminated his tanned, slightly per- spiring face, his blond, dusty hair, kindling in 179 VIRGIN SOIL it a multitude of golden points. His nostrils quivered and became inflated as he read, and his lips moved as though he were articulating every word ; he held the letter tightly and high up, with both hands. All this pleased NezhdanofF,— God knows why. Solomin returned the letter to Nezh- danofF, smiled at him, and again began to listen to Markeloff. The latter talked and talked— and at last relapsed into silence. *' Do you know what,"— began Solomin, and his voice, which was rather hoarse, but young and strong, also pleased Nezhdanoff,— " I do not feel quite at my ease here; let us go to j^our house— it is only seven versts away. You came in a ta- rantas, I suppose? " " Yes." " Well .... there will be room for me. In an hour my labours are over, and I shall be free. Then we will discuss. You are also free? "—he asked, turning to NezhdanofF. " Until day after to-morrow." " Very good, indeed. We will spend the night with him.— May we, Sergyei Mikhailovitch? " " What a question! Of course you may." " Well— I '11 be ready directly. Only give me a chance to clean myself up a bit." " And how are things going in your factory? " —inquired MarkelofF, significantly. Solomin glanced aside. " We will talk that over,"— he said again.— 180 VIRGIN SOIL " Wait .... I '11 be ready directly . . I have forgotten something." He left the room. If it had not been for the good impression which he had produced on Nezh- danoff , the latter, probably would have thought, and even, perhaps, would have asked INIarkelofF: " Is n't he crawling out of it? " But nothing of that sort entered his head. An hour later, at the moment when, from all the stories of the huge building, the noisy throng of work-people were descending by all the stair- cases and pouring out through all the doors, — the tarantas in which sat JMarkelofF, NezhdanofF, and Solomin drove out through the gate upon the highway. " Vasily Feodotitch! Are we to act? "— shouted after Solomin, Pavel, whom he had es- corted to the gate. " Wait a bit," . . . rephed Solomin.-" That refers to a piece of night-work," — he explained to his comrades. They arrived at Borzyonkovo; they supped — chiefly for the sake of appearances — and then lit their cigars and began their discussions, those noc- turnal, interminable, Russian discussions, which in such proportions and in such a form can hardly be characteristic of any other race whatsoever. Moreover, even here, Solomin did not justify NezhdanofF's expectations. He talked remark- ably little ... so little, that one might almost 181 VIRGIN SOIL say that he remained persistently mute; but he listened assiduously, and if he did utter any judgment or remark, it was to the point, and of weight, and very brief. It appeared that Solo- min did not believe in the imminent approach of a revolution in Russia ; but, not wishing to force his opinions on others, he did not prevent their making the effort, and he looked on, not from afar, but from one side. He was well acquainted with the Petersburg revolutionists — and, to a cer- tain degree, sympathised with them— for he him- self was one of the people ; but he understood the involuntary absence of that same people, without which " you will not be able to do anything," and which must undergo a long course of prep- aration,— and not of the same sort or with the same object as those. Hence, he held himself aloof, not as a crafty man or a shuffler, but as a young fellow with sense, who does not wish to ruin himself or others for nothing.— But as for listen- ing—why not listen— and even learn, if the op- portunity should present itself? Solomin was the only son of a chanter; he had five sisters— all married to priests and deacons; but he, with the consent of his father, a dignified and sober man, had abandoned the ecclesiastical seminary, had begun to study mathematics, and had conceived a special passion for mechanics ; he had got a place in the factory of an Englishman, who had loved him like a son— and had furnished him with means 182 VIRGIN SOIL to go to Manchester, where he had remained two years, and had learned the EngHsh language. He had entered the factory of the INIoscow mer- chant quite recently, and although he was strict with the factory-hands,— because he had learned that method by observation in England,— yet he enjoyed their good-will; "he was one of them- selves, you see ! " His father was greatly pleased with him, called him " accurate," and his sole re- gret was that his son was not inclined to marry. In the course of the nocturnal discussion at MarkeloiF's, Solomin, as we have already said, maintained an almost uninterrupted silence; but when Markeloff undertook to expatiate upon the hopes which he founded on the factor}^ workmen, Solomin, according to his wont, laconically re- marked that " our factory -hands in Russia are not like those abroad— they are the quietest sort of folks." " And the peasants? "—asked Markeloff. Solomin smiled. " Seek and ye shall find." He smiled almost incessantly— and his smile, also, was a guileless sort of smile, but thought- less, like everything else about him.— He treated NezhdanofF in a peculiar manner : the j^oung stu- dent aroused sympathy, almost tenderness in him. In the course of that same nocturnal conversa- tion, Nezhdanoff suddenly waxed warm, and be- came excited; Solomin quietly rose to his feet, 183 VIRGIN SOIL and traversing the whole length of the room with his long stride, shut the small window which stood open obove NezhdanofF's head. . . . " I 'm afraid you will take cold in your head," —he said good-naturedly, in reply to the orator's astonished look. NezhdanofF began to interrogate him as to the nature of the socialistic ideas M^hich he was en- deavouring to introduce into the factory intrusted to him, and as to whether he intended to arrange matters in such a way that the workmen should share in the profits? "My dear soul!" — replied Solomin— "we have set up a school, and a small hospital — and the proprietor fought against them like a bear! " Once only Solomin got seriously angry, and thumped his mighty fist on the table in such wise, that everything on it danced, not excluding the forty-pound weight, which sought refuge near the inkstand. They had told him about some piece of injustice in the law-courts, about the oppression of a workman's guild. . . . But when MarkelofF and Nezhdanoff under- took to say, how it was proper to " set to work," how their plan was to be put into action, Solo- min continued to listen with curiosity, even with respect— but he himself did not utter a single word. This conversation of theirs lasted until four o'clock.— And what all did they not discuss! Markeloff , among other things, secretly hinted at 184 VIRGIN SOIL that indefatigable traveller, KislyakofF, at his let- ters, which were becoming more and more in- teresting ; he promised to show several of them to NezhdanofF, and even to give him some to take home with him, as they were very long, and writ- ten in a not very legible hand; and, in addition, they contained a great deal of learning, and there were even verses here and there— but not any friv- olous verses — and with a socialistic tendency.— From Kislyakoff Markeloff passed on to soldiers, to adjutants, to Germans— and, at last, talked until he reached the artillery articles; Nezhda- nofF referred to the antagonism which existed be- tween Heine and Prudhomme, to realism in art; and Solomin listened— listened, observed, smoked, — and without ever ceasing to smile, without ut- tering a single witty word, he seemed to com- prehend better than any of them, in what the whole gist of the matter consisted. The clock struck four. . . Nezhdanoff and Markeloff could hardly stand on their feet with weariness — but Solomin never showed a trace of fatigue!— The friends parted; but before they did so it was unanimously agreed that on the following day they should go to the town, to the Old Ritualist merchant Golushkin to make propa- ganda; Goliishkin himself was very zealous — and had promised proselytes! Solomin ventured to express a doubt: was it worth while to visit Golushkin? But afterward he agreed that it was. 185 XVII Markeloff's guests were still asleep when a mes- senger presented himself to him, with a letter from his sister, Madame Sipyagin. — In that let- ter Valentina Mikhailovna spoke to him about some domestic trifles, asked him to send her a book which he had taken away — and, by the way, in a postscript, she imparted to him an " amus- ing " bit of news: his former flame, Marianna, had fallen in love with the tutor Nezhdanofl*— and the tutor with her ; and she, Valentina Mikhai- lovna was not repeating gossip,— but had beheld it with her own eyes, and had heard it with her own ears. Markeloff's face grew blacker than night .... but he uttered not a word; — he or- dered that the book be given to the messenger, — and, catching sight of Nezhdanofl*, who was de- scending the stairs from the upper story, he greeted him in the usual manner — he even gave him the packet of Kislyak6fl"s epistles, which he had promised; — but he did not remain with him, and went ofl" " to see to affairs about the place." — Nezhdanoff returned to his room and ran through the letters which had been given to him: in them the young propagandist talked continu- 186 VIRGIN SOIL ally of himself, of his convulsive activity ; accord- ing to his statements, in the course of the last month he had raced across eleven districts, had been in nine towns, twenty-two villages, fifty- three hamlets, one farm, and eight factories ; six- teen nights he had spent in hay-mows, one night in a stable, one, even, in a cow-stall (here he re- marked in parenthesis, with a nota bene, that the fleas had not bothered him ) ; he had made his way into the earth-huts, the barracks of the working- men, everywhere he had taught, exhorted, distrib- uted little books, collected information on the fly ; some persons he had jotted down on the spot, others he had impressed on his memory, according to the latest system of mnemonics; he had writ- ten fourteen long letters, twenty-eight short ones, and eighteen notes, four of them in pencil, one in blood, one in soot diluted wdth water ; and all this he had succeeded in doing because he had learned how to portion out his time systematically, taking as his guides Quintin Johnson, Sverlitzky, Ka- relins, and other journalists and article-writers. — Then he talked some more about himself, about his star, about precisely how and in what par- ticulars he had supplemented Fourier's theory of the passions; he asserted that he had been the first to seek out " the soil," definitively, that " he would not pass through the world without leaving a trace behind him," — that he himself was amazed that he, a youth of two-and-twenty, had already 187 VIRGIN SOIL solved all the problems of life and science— and that he would turn Russia upside down, he would even " give it a shaking-up! "— Dixi!!— he added at the end of the line.— This word—" dixi " . . frequently recurred in Kislyakoif's letters, and always with two exclamation points. One of the letters contained a socialistic poem, addressed to a young girl, and beginning : Love not me — but the idea! NezhdanoiF was inwardly amazed, not so much by Mr. Kislyakoif's self-boastf ulness, as at Mar- kelofF's honest good-nature .... but he imme- diately reflected: " away with aesthetics! even Mr. Kislyakoif may prove useful!" — All three friends met in the dining-room at tea; but the wordy discussion of the preceding evening was not renewed between them.— None of them felt inclined to talk — but Solomin alone maintained a composed silence; while NezhdanoiF and Marke- loiF seemed to be inwardly perturbed. After tea they set out for the town; Marke- loif 's old servant, as he sat on the porch, accom- panied his former master with his customary de- jected gaze. Merchant Golushkin, — whose acquaintance NezhdanoiF was about to make, — was the son of a tradesman, who had acquired wealth in the hard- ware business, a member of the Feodosian sect, 188 VIRGIN SOIL of the Old Ritualists/ He himself had not aug- mented his father's property, for he was, as has been stated, a gay blade, an epicurean, after the Russian manner— and possessed no gift whatever of combination in business matters. He was a man of forty years of age, decidedly obese and homely, pock-marked, with small, pig eyes; he talked very fast, and got tangled up, as it were, in his words, flourished his hands, danced about on his legs, burst out laughing .... in general, produced the impression of a dull-witted, spoiled, and extremely conceited fellow. He regarded, himself as a cultured man, because he dressed in foreign fashion and lived in a free-handed, though slovenly manner, was acquainted with wealthy people,— and went to the theatre, and protected variety actresses, with whom he con- versed in a remarkable sort of language which pro- fessed to be French. A thirst for popularity was his chief passion; as much as to say:—" Let thy fame resound throughout the world, Goliishkin! " — This same passion, having won the victory over his innate stinginess, had flung him, as he expressed it, not without pride, into the opposi- tion (formerly, he had said simply: "into posi- tion,"— but he had been taught better afterward) , —had brought him into relations with the nihi- lists: he proclaimed the most extreme opinions, ^ For a good description of this and tiie other Old Ritualist sects, see " L'Empire des Tsars et les Russes," by Anatole Leroy- Beaulieu. — Translator. 189 to VIRGIN SOIL he jeered at his Old Ritualistic sect, ate prohib- ited food during fasts, played cards— and drank champagne like water. And he was continually getting out of scrapes:— because, as he said— I have bought the authorities in every direction where it is necessary; every opening has been stopped up, all mouths are closed, all ears plugged."— He was a widower, and childless; his sister's sons hovered around him with servile trepi- dation . . . but he cursed them for a pack of uncivilised blockheads and barbarians, and hardly permitted them to come within his sight.— He lived in a large stone house, which was kept up in rather an untidy manner ; in some of the rooms there was foreign furniture— and in others, there was nothing but painted chairs, and a sofa cov- ered with oil-cloth. Pictures hung everywhere— and all of them were exceedingly bad: carroty- hued landscapes, and purple sea views — Moller's " The Kiss," fat, naked women with red knees or elbows. Although Golushkin had no family, a great many menials and parasites roosted under his roof ; he did not harbour them out of generos- ity, but for the same old reason,— a desire for popularity,— and in order that he might have some one whom he could order about, and before whom he could put on airs. " My clients," he was wont to say, when he wanted to throw dust in any one's eyes; he read no books, but he had a capital memory for learned expressions. 190 VIRGIN SOIL The young men found Golushkin in his study. Clad in a long-tailed paletot, with a cigar in his mouth, he was pretending to read a news- paper. At the sight of them he instantly sprang to his feet, fussed about, turned scarlet, shouted out that the servants were to serve luncheon im- mediately, put some question or other, laughed at something — and all simultaneously. He knew MarkelofF and Solomin; NezhdanofF was an en- tirely new person to him. On hearing that he was a student, he shook hands with him again and said : " Splendid! splendid! some of our own set have arrived .... learning is light, ignorance is darkness— my own education leaves much to be desired, but I understand, because I 've been suc- cessful! " It struck NezhdanofF that Mr. Golushkin was both timid and easily discomfited, . . and, as a mat- ter of fact, he was exactly that. — " Look out, bro- ther Kapiton, keep up thy dignity! " was his first thought at the sight of every new face. But he speedily recovered himself, and began to talk in the same hurried, thick-tongued way about Va- sily Nikolaevitch, about his character, about the necessity for the pro-pa-gan-da— (he was very familiar with this word, but he pronounced it slowly) ; he said that he, Golushkin, had discov- ered a new, dashing young man, a very trust- worthy fellow ; that apparently the time was now near at hand, the time was ripe for .... for 191 VIRGIN SOIL the lancet (at this, he glanced at JNIarkeloff, who, however, never fluttered an eyelash) ; — then, ad- dressing himself to Nezhdanoff, he began to por- tray himself in a style quite equal to that of Kis- lyakofl*, the great correspondent, himself. He, said he, had long ago got out of the category of self-fools,^ that he knew well the rights of the proletariat (he had memorised this word thor- oughly), that, although he himself had retired from business and was engaged in banking opera- tions — for the purpose of augmenting his capital — yet thiswas only in order that this capital might, at a given moment, serve — to the profit ... to the profit of the general movement, to the profit —so to speak— of the populace; and that he, Go- liishkin, in reality, despised capital! At this point, a servant entered with the appetiser, and Goldshkin clearing his throat significantly, in- quired whether they would not like to join him in a glass? — and was himself the first to toss off an overpowering bumper of pepper-brandy. The guests began on the luncheon. — Goliishkin thrust huge pieces of pressed caviar into his mouth, and drank to match, remarking: — " Pray, gentlemen, take some, I entreat you, ' 't is a tid- bit'!" 1 Ostrdvsky, the famous dramatic writer, invented this word — samodur, self-fool — in his well-known comedy, " Don't Bother about Other People's Troubles" (literally, "Getting Drunk at Another Man's Feast"). It instantly became the popular term to describe a pig-headed, conservative, old-fashioned man. — Translator. 192 VIRGIN SOIL Addressing himself once more to NezhdanoiF, he asked him whence he had come, whether he in- tended to remain long, and where he was residing ; and having learned that he was living at Sipya- gin's house, he exclaimed : " I know that gentleman ! An empty fellow ! " — And thereupon began to revile all landed pro- prietors of the S. . . . Government, because they not only had nothing of the citizen about them, but also because thej^ were not even conscious of their own interests. . . . Only — strange to saj^! . . while he was thus abusing them, — his eyes kept roving about, and uneasiness was visible in them. — Nezhdanoif could not quite render him- self an account as to what manner of man this was — and why he should be necessary to them. Solomin held his tongue, according to his wont; and Markeloff assumed such a gloomy mien, that NezhdanofF at last asked him " what was the mat- ter with him? " — To which ]Markeloff replied that there was nothing the matter with him ; but in the sort of tone in which it is customarj^ to answer people when the object is to give them to under- stand that " there is something the matter — only it is none of your business." — Again Golushkin began, first to abuse somebody, and then to laud the young generation : " what clever fellows have come up nowadays! Cle-e-ver fellows! Phew!" — Solomin interrupted him with the query: who was that reliable young man whom he had men- 193 VIRGIN SOIL tioned?— and where had he hunted him up? Go- lushkin burst out into a hearty laugh, repeated a couple of times; " Well now, you '11 see, you '11 see,"— and began to interrogate him about his factory, and its " rascally " owner, to which Solo- min replied in extremely monosyllabic style. Then Goliishkin poured out champagne for all of them— and bending down to NezhdanofF's ear, he whispered:— " To the republic! "—and drained his glass at a draught. Nezhdanoff took a sip from his glass. Solomin remarked that he did not drink wine in the morning; MarkelofF drained his glass to the dregs, with a vicious and determined air. It seemed as though he were be- ing devoured by impatience : " here we are, still taking our ease," he seemed to say, — " and we are not getting at the real discussion at all." .... He thumped the table, said morosely:—" Gentle- men!" — and was preparing to speak. . . . But at that moment there entered the room a smoothly-licked man, with a jug-like phiz, and a consumptive aspect, dressed in a short nankeen kaftan of the merchant fashion, with both arms dangling straight down. Having made his bow to all present this man reported something to Goliishkin in a low voice. " Immediately, immediately,"— replied the lat- ter hurriedly. — " Gentlemen," he added,—" I must ask you to excuse me. . . . Vasya here, my manager, has just informed me of a ' thingum- 194 VIRGIN SOIL bob ' of such a nature " ( Golushkin expressed himself in this manner by way of a joke), " that I am imperatively obliged to absent myself for a time; but I hope, gentlemen, that you will con- sent to dine with me to-day at three o'clock ; and then we shall be much more at liberty! " Neither Solomin nor NezhdanofF knew what reply to make; but Markeloff immediately said, with the same surliness of visage and voice as before : " Of course we will; but what sort of a comedy is this?" " I thank you sincerely,'* — Golushkin caught him up — and, bending toward MarkeloiF, he added: — "I '11 contribute a thousand rubles, at least, to the cause . . . have no doubt as to that! " And thereupon he thrice made a gesture with his right hand, with the thumb and little finger outspread, signifying: " I '11 keep my word! " He escorted his guests to the door,— and stand- ing on the threshold he shouted: " I shall expect you at three o'clock! " " You may! "—replied MarkeloiF alone. " Gentlemen! "—said Solomin as soon as all three found themselves in the street,—" I am going to hire a drozhky and drive to the factory. What shall we do until dinner-time? — idle about? And as for that merchant of ours .... it strikes me that we shall get neither wool nor milk out of him, any more than out of a goat." 195 VIRGIN SOIL " Well, there will be some wool," — remarked Markeloff, gruffly. " Here he has promised money. Do you despise him? We cannot enter into details. — We are not fastidious girls of mar- riageable age." "As if I despised him!" calmly responded Solomin. " I am only asking myself of what use my own presence can be? However," he added, glancing at NezhdanofF with a smile: — " as you like; I will remain. Misery loves com- pany." Markeloff raised his head. " Let us go, for the time being, to the public park; the weather is fine." " Come on." They set out.— Markeloff and Solomin in front, NezhdanofF behind them. 196 XVIII His soul was in a strange state. There had been so many new sensations, so many new faces dur- ing the last two days. . . . For the first time in his life he had become intimately acquainted with a young girl, with whom — in all probability — he had fallen in love. He had been present— in all probability — at the inception of the cause, to which he had consecrated all his powers. . . And what then? . . . Was he happy?— No.— Was he wavering? growing cowardly? disconcerted? — Oh, of course not. Then, was he experiencing, at least, that tension of the whole being, that im- petuous longing to advance into the front ranks of the warriors which the imminent approach of a battle calls forth?— No, again. "Did he, then, after all, believe in that cause?— Oh, accursed aes- thetic! Sceptic!" whispered his lips dumbly. — Why this languor, this disinclination even to speak as soon as he was not yelling and raging? — What inward voice was he endeavouring to stifle by that yell? But Marianna, that glorious, trusting comrade, that pure, passionate soul, that magnificent young girl— did not she love him? Was it not a great piece of luck that he should 197 VIRGIN SOIL have met her, that he should have won her friend- ship, her love? And those two beings, who were now walking in front of him, that MarkelofF, that Solomin, whom he still knew so little, but toward whom he felt so greatly attracted,— were not they capital specimens of Russian existence, of Rus- sian life, — and was not acquaintance, intimacy with them a piece of good luck also? — Then why that ill-defined, perturbed, aching sensation? Why that sadness? — " If thou art a reflective and melancholy man," — whispered his lips again, — *' why the devil art thou a revolutionist? Write verses, languish, and wrestle with thine own petty thoughts and sensations — and burrow into various psychological considerations and subtleties, — but, the chief thing of all is, — do not take thy sickly, nervous irritation and whims for the manly indig- nation, for the honourable wrath of the man of convictions!— Oh, Hamlet, Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, how am I to emerge from thy shadow? How am I to leave off imitating thee in every- thing, even in the disgraceful enjoyment of my own self-castigation? " "Alexis ! Friend ! the Russian Hamlet ! "—sud- denly rang out a familiar, piping voice, as though in echo to all these reflections.—" Is it thee I be- hold? " Nezhdanofl* raised his eyes — and with amaze- ment, saw before him Pakhlin! — Pakhlin in the image of a shepherd, clothed in a flesh-coloured 198 VIRGIN SOIL garment, with no neckcloth round his neck, in a large straw hat, encircled by a blue ribbon, and thrust clear back on the nape of his neck — and in lacquered shoes! He immediately limped up to NezhdanofF and grasped his hand. " In the first place,"— he began,—" although we are in the public park, we must embrace . . . and kiss each other, according to our old habit. . . One! two! three!— In the second place, thou knowest that if I had not met thee to-day thou wouldst certainly have beheld my countenance to- morrow,— for thy place of residence is known to me, and I even came to this town with the express intention ... in some manner or other, — but of that later ; in the third place, introduce me to thy comrades. Tell me, briefly, who they are, and tell them who I am, and we will enjoy life! " Nezhdanoff complied with his friend's desire, named him to MarkelofF and Solomin— and told about each one of them— who he was, where he lived, what he did, and so forth. " Very good indeed! "—exclaimed Paklilin;— " and now, permit me to lead you all far from the crowd which does not, however, exist— to the iso- lated bench, seated whereon I, in hours of medi- tation, enjoy nature.— There is a wonderfully fine view from it: the Governor's house, two striped sentry-boxes, three gendarmes, and not a single dog!— But you must not be too greatly 199 VIRGIN SOIL surprised at my speeches, wherewith I so sedu- lously endeavour to make you laugh! — In the opinion of my friends, I am the representative of Russian wit . , . hence, probably, my limp." Pakhlin led the friends to the " isolated bench," and seated them on it, first having driven away from it two beggar-women. The young men " exchanged ideas," ... a decidedly tiresome oc- cupation in the majority of cases — especially in the early stages of acquaintance— and remark- ably sterile of results. *' Halt! "—suddenly exclaimed Pakhlin, turn- ing to Nezhdanoff, — " I must explain to thee why I am here. Thou knowest I take my sister away somewhere every year ; when I learned that thou wert setting out for the neighbourhood of this town, I called to mind that in this very town dwell two of the most remarkable persons: a man and wife who are relatives of ours . . . on the mother's side. My father was a burgher " — (Nezhdanoff knew that, but Pakhlin said it for the benefit of those two) — " and she was of noble birth. And they have been inviting us to make them a visit for this long time past!— Stay! I say to myself. . . That just suits me. They are the kindest sort of people, my sister will be advantageously situated with them ; what more could be desired? — so we just came hither. And it was exactly the right thing ! So we are well off here. . . I cannot tell you how well off!- But 200 VIRGIN SOIL what people they are! What people!— You cer- tainly must make their acquaintance! What are you doing here? Where are you going to dine? And why, precisely, did you come here?" " We are to dine to-day at the house of a cer- tain Goliishkin. . There is a merchant here of that name," replied Nezhdanoff . " At what o'clock ? " " At three." " And you are to see him about . . . about . . . ." Pakhlin cast a scrutinising glance at Solo- min, who smiled, and at Markeloff, whose brow grew more and more lowering. "Come, Alyosha; tell them, . . . make some free-mason sign, I mean it . . . tell them that they need not stand on ceremony with me. . . . For I am one of you ... of your society. . . ." " Goliishkin is one of us also," — remarked Nezhdanoff. " Well, that 's splendid!— There 's lots of time yet before three o'clock. — Sec here — let's go to my relations'." " Why, you are out of your mind ! How can one be so . . . ." " Don't you worry about that! I assume the re- sponsibility myself. — Imagine: it 's an oasis! Neither politics, nor literature, nor anything con- temporary ever gets a peep in there. . The lit- tle house is a pot-bellied sort of affair, such as is nowhere to be seen nowadays anywhere; the 201 VIRGIN SOIL smell in it is— antique; the people are antiques; the air is antique . . . whatever you touch is an- tique. Katherine the Second, powder, farthin- gales, the eighteenth century! — The master and mistress of the house, .... just fancy: both man and wife are old, very old, of the same age, — and devoid of wrinkles; round, plump, clean, regular little love-bird parakeets ; but good to stu- pidity, to holiness, without limit! I am told that * unlimited ' goodness is often accompanied by the absence of moral sentiment. . . But I do not enter into such subtleties, and I only know that my little old folks are good, kind souls! And they never had any children. They are called the ' blessed,' ^ in town. They both dress exactly alike, in a sort of long, hooded garment of striped stuff —and the stuff is of such solid quality, you cannot find any such anywhere nowadays. — They are frightfully like each other — only one of them wears a cap on her head and the other has a night-cap on his— with exactly the same sort of ruches as are on the cap, but without any rib- bon. If it were not for the ribbon, you would not know them apart; and the husband is beard- less, to boot. And their names are: one, — F6- mushka, and the other Fimushka. — I tell you, one ought to pay money to have a look at them. They love each other to an impossible degree: and if any one calls on them, it is—' Pray come in! ' — ^In the sense of half-witted.— Translator. 202 VIRGIN SOIL And obliging people : they will show off all their little tricks at once. There is only one point: smoking is not allowed in their house : not because they are sectarians,^ — but because tobacco dis- gusts them. . . . And in their day, who smoked? — On the other hand, they keep no canary-birds — because that bird was also not widely dissemi- nated at that epoch. . . . And that is a great piece of good-luck — you will agree! — Well, how is it to be? Will you go?" " Really, I do not know," — began NezhdanofF. " Stay: I have not yet told j^ou all. — Their voices are exactly alike : if you shut your eyes you do not know which one of them is talking. Only Fomushka's speech is somewhat the more tender of the two, — Here j^ou are gentlemen, making preparations for the great cause, — perhaps for a terrible struggle. . . Why, before j^ou hurl yourself into those raging waters . . . don't you take a dip into . . . ." " Into stagnant water? "—interrupted Marke- loiF. "Well, what of that? — It is stagnant, that 's a fact; only it is not putrid. — There are pools on the steppes of that sort ; although they have no outlet they never become covered with scum be- cause they have springs at the bottom. — And my ^ The raskolniki — sectarians, who cling to the unrevised versions of the scriptures and church service-books (also called "Old Rit- ualists ")— object to tobacco, tea, and coffee on religious grounds, which they justify by quaint arguments.— TkanslatoJI 203 VIRGIN SOIL old folks have springs — there, at the bottom of their hearts, pure, exceedingly pure springs. — And there 's another thing: would you like to know how people lived a hundred, a hundred and fifty years ago?— then make haste and follow me. For the day, the hour, will come — it will, inevit- ably, be one and the same hour for both of them— and my love-birds will tumble off their perch — and everything antique will come to an end with them — and the pot-bellied little house will disap- pear — and in its place there will spring up what, according to the assertion of my grandmother, always does spring up on the spot where there have been ' humans,' namely, nettles, burdock, sowthistles, wormwood, and horse-dock ; the street itself will cease to exist, and men will come, and nothing of that sort will ever be found again, unto ages of ages! " . . . . "Well, why not?"— cried NezhdanofF:— " really, we might as well go! " " I am ready, with the greatest pleasure," — said Solomin; — " that 's not in my line — but it is cu- rious, all the same;— and if Mr. Pakhlin really can guarantee that we shall not discommode any one by our visit, then . . . why not. . . ." " Come, you need have no doubts!" — exclaimed Pakhlin in his turn: — "they will go into rap- tures over you— and that 's all. What 's the use of standing on ceremony. I tell you, they are 204 VIRGIN SOIL blessed eccentrics, we will make them sing. — And you, Mr. MarkelofF — do you accept? " MarkeloiF wrathf ully shrugged his shoulders. " I cannot remain here alone! — Please show us the way." — The young men rose from the bench. " What an awe-inspiring gentleman thou hast with thee," — whispered Pakhlin to NezhdanoiF, pointing at MarkelofF: — " Precisely like John the Forerunner, when he had eaten the locusts . . . the locusts alone, without any honej^!— But that one," — he added, nodding his head in the direc- tion of Solomin,— " is a splendid fellow! What a glorious smile he has!— I have noticed that only those people who are above the rest smile in that way — and are not aware of it themselves." "Are there any such people?" asked Nezh- danoff. " They are rare; but they do exist,"— replied Pakhlin. 205 XIX FoMusHKA and Fimushka— Foma Lavrentie- vitch and Evfemia Pavlovna SubotcheiF— both belonged to one and the same ancient Russian no- ble stock — and were regarded as almost the oldest residents of the town of S. . . . — They had married very early in life — and a great many years ago had settled down in an ancestral wooden house on the outskirts of the town — had never left it — and never, in any respect whatever, had changed their mode of life or their habits. Time, apparently, had stood still, so far as they were concerned ; no " novelty " ever made its way across the threshold of their " oasis." Their property was not large; but their peasants, as of yore, still continued to bring them domestic fowls and provisions several times a year ; the village elder, at appointed dates, presented himself with the quit-rent money, and a pair of hazel-hens, which were supposed to have been shot at the forest villa of his master and mis- tress, which, in reality, had long ago disappeared ; he was treated to tea on the threshold of the draw- ing-room, he was presented with a sheepskin cap, a pair of green chamois mittens, and dismissed in God's keeping. The SubotchefF's house was full 206 VIRGIN SOIL of house-serfs. The aged servant, KalHopitch, clad in an under- jacket of unusually thick cloth, with a standing collar, and tiny steel buttons, an- nounced, as of yore, in a drawl, " the food is on the table," and fell into a doze as he stood behind his mistress' chair. The pantry was in his charge ; — he reigned over " divers dried fruits, cardamon- seeds, and lemons," — and to the question: had he heard that liberty had been proclaimed for all the serfs?— he always replied that some people chat- tered lots of nonsense; there is liberty among the Turks, — but, thank God, it had skipped him. The maid Pufka, a dwarf, was kept for amuse- ment, but the old nurse, Vasilievna, entered dur- ing dinner, with a huge, dark-coloured kerchief on her head — and narrated all sorts of news in a mumbling voice: — about Napoleon, the year '12, about Antichrist and white negroes; — or, with her chin propped on her hand, as though in afflic- tion, she communicated to them what sort of a dream she had had, and what it signified, and what fortune the cards had shown her. The Su- botchefF's house itself was distinguished from all the other houses in the town : it was built wholly of oak, and had windows in the form of equal- sided squares; the double sashes were never re- moved. And it contained all sorts of outer vesti- bules, old-fashioned rooms with old-fashioned names: — and hot chambers, and light chambers at the top of the house, and one-roomed, semi- 207 VIRGIN SOIL cottages in the back yard, and porches with balus- trades, and pigeon-houses on carved pillars, and all sorts of rear entrances and tiny rooms. In front there was a small garden, and at the back a garden; and in the garden, — what coops, de- tached sheds, barns, cold-storehouses, ice-houses ... a regular nest! Not that there was a great deal of property preserved in all these buildings — some of them had already fallen into decay; — but all that had been constructed in ancient times, — well, and so it had remained. The SubotcheiFs had only two horses, aged, saddle-backed, shaggy animals; on one of them even, white spots had come out, owing to age; its name was Nedviga, the Motionless. They were harnessed— at most once a month — to a remarkable equipage with which the whole town was familiar, presenting the semblance of the earthly globe with a quarter part cut out in front, and upholstered in the in- side with a foreign material, yellow in hue, thickly strewn with large blisters in the shape of warts. The last yard of that material had been woven in Utrecht or Lyons in the days of the Empress Elizabeth ! And the Subotcheff s' coachman, also, was a very aged old man permeated with the odour of train-oil and tar ; his beard started close up to his eyes, and his eyebrows fell in small cascades on his beard. He was so deliberate in his movements that he took five whole minutes over a pinch of snufF, two minutes to tuck his 208 VIRGIN SOIE whip into his girdle, and more than two hours to harness Nedviga alone. His name was Perf ishka. If the SubotchefFs happened to go out for a drive and the equipage was obliged to make the slight- est ascent — they invariably got frightened — (but they were frightened, also, when they went down hill) — they clung to the carriage-straps, and both kept repeating aloud: " Horses! horses . . . have the strength of Samuel: — but we — but we are lighter than down, lighter than a spirit !! " . . . . Every one in the town of S. . . . regarded the Su- botchefFs as eccentrics, almost in the light of crazy people: — and they themselves admitted that they were not adapted to the order of things at the present day .... but they did not grieve much over that : — in that manner of existence into which they had been born, in which they had grown up, and entered the married state — in that manner of life they remained. One peculiaritj^ alone of that life had not adhered to them: they never since they were born had punished any one, or had called any one to account for anything. If one of their servants turned out to be a notorious drunkard or thief, they first exercised patience and bore with him for a long time, as other peo- ple endure bad weather; and at last they endeav- oured to get rid of him, to let him go to another master and mistress: as much as to say, — let them worry over it for a while also! But this misfor- tune rarely occurred to them, — so rarely that it 209 VIRGIN SOIL constituted an epoch in their lives, — and they were wont to say, for example: " That happened long ago; it came to pass when that impudent Alda- shka lived with us "; or " when grandfather's fur cap with the fox-tail was stolen from us " The Subotcheffs still used that sort of cap. — But another distinguishing characteristic of ancient customs was not to be observed in them: neither Fomushka nor Fimushka were over-religious peo- ple. Fomushka even held to Voltairian rules ; and Fimushka was deathly afraid of ecclesiastical per- sons : they had the gift of the evil eye, according to her. " The priest will sit a while with me," — she was wont to say, — " and, lo and behold! the cream has turned sour! " — They rarely went out to church — and they fasted in the Roman Catholic style, that is to say, they used eggs, butter, and milk. This was known in the town — and, of course, it did not redeem their reputation. But their goodness conquered everything; and al' though people made fun of the queer Subo- tcheffs, although they regarded them as idiots and blessed fools, nevertheless, in reality, they respected them. Yes; they respected them .... but as for going to see them, no one did that. But neither did they feel aggrieved thereby. They were never bored when they were together — and therefore they never parted, and desired no other society. Neither Fomushka nor Fimushka had ever been 210 VIRGIN SOIL ill a single time ; but if one or the other of them felt slightly indisposed — then both of them drank an infusion of linden flowers, rubbed their loins with warm oil— or dropped hot tallow on the soles of their feet— and in a short time everything passed off. — They always spent their days in the same way. They rose late, took chocolate in the morning out of small cups, in the shape of mor- tars; " tea,"— they asserted, — " came into fashion after our day ";— they sat facing each other, and either chatted — (and they always found some- thing to talk about!) —or read from " An Agree- able Way to Pass the Time," " The Mirror of Light," or " The Aonid " ; or they looked through an old album, bound in red morocco with a gilded edge, which had once been the property, so the inscription ran, of one Mme. Barbe de Kabyline. — When and how that album had fallen into their hands — they themselves did not know. It con- tained several French and many Russian poems and articles in prose, in the nature, for example, of the following " brief " reflections concerning " Cecero." In what frame of mind Cecero entered upon the rank of quaestor, the following will set forth. Having called on the gods to bear witness to the purity of his senti- ments in all the offices wherewith he had hitherto been honoured, he considered himself bound by the most sacred bonds to a worthy fulfilment of them, and in that intention he, Cecero, not only had not addicted 211 VIRGIN SOIL himself to any pleasures, — but had even shunned such enjoyments as appear to be utterly indispensable. — Below this stood: Written in Siberia, in hunger and cold. There was also a good poem, entitled " Thyrsos," wherein such strophes as the follow- ing occurred: Repose the universe directs. The dew with pleasure glistens, Caresses nature and refreshes. Imparts to her new life ! Thyrsos alone, with sorrowing soul Suffers, torments himself, and grieves. . . . When with him dear Aneta is not — Nothing can him cheer ! —and an impromptu by a passing captain, in the year 1790, " The Sixth Day of May ": Ne'er shall I forget ! Thee, village beloved! And I shall ever bear in mind ! How pleasantly the time did pass ! The honour that I had ! With thine owner fair ! The five best days of life ! To spend in the most respected circle ! Amid a multitude of ladies and young girls. And other awteresting persons ! 212 VIRGIN SOIL On the last page of the album stood— instead of verses— recipes for maladies of the stomach, for spasms— and, alas!— even for tape-worms. The SubotchefFs dined punctually at twelve o'clock, and always ate old-fashioned viands: curd-frit- ters, sour soup with salted gherkins, freely-salted cabbage, patties filled with salted cucumbers, hasty-pudding, rolls made with eggs, pudding of potato flour flavoured with fruit juice, compotes of dried fruits and berries, sweetened with raisins or honey, fowl roasted on a spit with saffron, custard with honey. After dinner they reposed, — a brief hour, no more, — waked up, again sat down facing each other, and drank bilberry ale, and sometimes even an effervescent sort, called "forty minds," which, however, almost every time spurted out of the bottle and caused great laugh- ter to the old couple, but much vexation to Kallio- pitch; he had to wipe up " everywhere " — and he grumbled for a long time, at the housekeeper and the cook, who had invented that beverage, accord- ing to his assertions. ..." And what satisfac- tion is there in it? It only spoils the purniture! " — Then the Subotcheffs read something again, or joked with the dwarf Pufka, or sang together antiquated romances (their voices were exactly alike, high-pitched, weak, rather quavering, and hoarse — especially after a nap — but not devoid of agreeability) —or, in conclusion, they played cards, but always old-fashioned games: krebSj la VIRGIN SOIL moiiclie, or even boston samprandcr! Then the samovar made its appearance ; in the evening they drank tea. . . . They made this concession to the spirit of the age ; but every time they regarded it as self-indulgence, and thought that the nation was growing distinctly less robust " from that Chinese weed."— In general, however, they re- frained from censuring the new epoch, and from lauding the old one: they had never lived other- wise in their lives, but that other people might live in a different — and even a better manner — they were willing to concede, if only they were not compelled to make any changes! — At eight o'clock Kalliopitch served supper, consisting of the in- evitable cold hash with kvas, and at nine o'clock the striped, high-swelling feather-beds received into their mellow embrace the plump bodies of Fomushka and Fimushka, and untroubled sleep descended without delay upon their eyelids. — And everything grew silent in the ancient house: the shrine-lamp twinkled in front of the holy pic- tures, and an odour of musk and balm was spread abroad, a cricket whirred — and the good, ridicu- lous, innocent couple slept on. It was to these simpletons, or, as he expressed it, to these love-birds, who were entertaining his sister, that Pakhlin conducted his acquaintances. His sister was a clever girl, not devoid of comeli- ness. She had wonderful eyes; but her unfortu- nate hump crushed her, deprived her of all confi- 214 VIRGIN SOIL dence in herself and cheerfulness, rendered her distrustful, and almost malicious. And it was her luck to have a very curious name: Snanduliya! — Pakhlin had wanted to change it to Sophya; but she clung obstinately to her strange name, saying that a hunchback ought to be called pre- cisely that — Snandiiliya. She was a good musi- cian, and played very respectably on the piano — " thanks to my long fingers," — she was accus- tomed to remark, not without bitterness : " hunch- backed people always have that sort of fingers." The visitors found Fomushka and Fimushka at the very moment when they had waked up from their post-prandial nap, and were sipping their fruit ale. " We are entering the eighteenth century! " — exclaimed Pakhlin, as soon as they crossed the threshold of the SubotchefFs' house. And, in truth, the eighteenth century greeted the visitors in the very anteroom, in the shape of low, bluish screens with black silhouettes of pow- dered dames and cavaliers, which had been cut out and pasted on them. At one fortunate period, in the '80s of the eighteenth century, the popular silhouettes of Lavater were in high fashion in Russia. The sudden appearance of such a large number of visitors — four altogether!— produced a sensation in the rarely-visited house. The trampling of booted and bare feet became audi- ble, several feminine faces were thrust out for a 215 VIRGIN SOIL moment, and then vanished — some one was thrust in somewhere, some one groaned, some one snorted, some one whispered convulsively: " The devil take you! " At last Kalliopitch made his appearance in his rough under- jacket — and throwing open the door into the " hall," announced in a loud voice: " Sir, here comes Sila Samsonitch with some other gentlemen ! " The host and hostess were far less perturbed than their domestics. The irruption of four adult men into their fairly spacious drawing-room did, in sooth, somewhat amaze them; — but Pa- khlin immediately reassured them, by introducing to them, in turn, with divers quaint comments, — Nezhdanoff, Solomin, and MarkelofF— as peace- able, and not " crown " persons. Fomushka and Fimushka were not especially fond of crown — that is to say, of official persons. Snandiiliya, who presented herself in response to her brother's summons, was much more agi- tated, and stood on a good deal more ceremony than the old SubotchefFs. Both simultaneously— and with precisely the same expressions — invited the visitors to be seated, and inquired what re- freshments should be served to them: tea, choco- late, or sparkling fruit ale with preserves ? When they had ascertained that their guests wished for nothing, as they had recently breakfasted with merchant Golushkin, they ceased to press re- 216 VIRGIN SOIL fresliments upon them, and clasping their hands on their laps in precisely similar manner, they entered into conversation. At first this dragged on rather languidly, hut soon became animated. — Pakhlin made the old folks laugh excessively by Gogol's familiar anec- dotes about the chief of police who forced his way into the church, which was crammed full, and about the police-chief looking like a patty; they laughed until they cried. They laughed also in identical fashion : very shrilly, winding up with a cough, and with faces flushed and perspiring all over. Pakhlin had noticed, in general, that quotations from Gogol act very powerfully and rather violently on persons like the SubotchefFs; but, as he was not anxious to amuse them, as he was to exhibit them to his friends, he changed his battery, and the old couple were soon com- pletely reassured. Fomushka brought out and exhibited to the visitors his favourite snuff-box of carved wood, on which, formerly, thirty-six hu- man figures could have been counted, in various attitudes: they had all, long since, been erased — but Fomushka saw them, saw them down to that very moment, and was able to enumerate them, and pointed them out. — " Look " — he said, " here is one looking out of a little window — see, he has thrust out his head " But the spot at which his pudgy finger, with its raised nail pointed, was as smooth as the rest of the lid of 217 VIRGIN SOIL the snuff-box. Then he called the attention of his visitors to the picture which hung over his head, painted in oils: it depicted a huntsman in profile, galloping at full speed on a light-bay horse — also in profile — across a snow-covered plain. The huntsman wore a tall sheepskin cap with a sky-blue top, a kazak kaftan of camel's hair, with a velvet border, girt with a forged, gilt belt ; a silk embroidered mitten was thrust into the belt; his dagger, in a silver scabbard with black niello work hung from it. In one hand, in a very dashing and masterful manner, the huntsman held a huge horn, adorned with red tassels, and in the other, his reins and kazak whip; all four feet of the horse were hanging in the air; — and on each one of them the painter had carefully depicted a shoe, even designating the nails. "And observe," said Fomushka, pointing with the same pudgy finger at the four semicircular spots brought out on the white background be- hind the horse's hoofs — " his tracks in the snow — and he has even represented them! " — Why there were only four of those tracks — and why not a single one was visible any further behind him — Fomushka did not explain. "And, you know, — that was I!" he added, after a brief pause, with a shamefaced smile. " What? "—exclaimed Nezhdanoff.— ' Were you the huntsman? " "Yes .... but not for long. Once, when riding at full speed, I flew over the horse's head, 218 VIRGIN SOIL and wounded my kurpei. Well, and Fimushka got frightened . . and forbade me. I abandoned it from that time on." " What was it that you wounded? "—inquired NezhdanofF. " My kurpei/' — repeated Fomushka, dropping his voice. The guests exchanged mute glances. No one knew what a kurpei was, — that is to say, Marke- lofF knew that the shaggy tuft on the cap of a Kazak or a Tcherkessian was called a kurpei; but assuredly, Fomushka could not have wounded that! But not one of them could make up his mind to ask him, what, precisely, he meant by the word kurpei. " Well, since thou hast made thy boast," be- gan Fimushka, suddenly, — " I 'm going to make my boast, too! " From a tiny '' honlieur du jour " — that was the appellation of an ancient bui*eau, on tiny, crooked legs, with a movable circular lid which ran into the back of the bureau, — she drew forth a miniature in water-colours, in an oval, bronze frame, representing a perfectly naked child of four years, with a quiver on its back, and a sky- blue ribbon across its breast, testing its sharp ar- rows with the tip of its finger. The child had very curly hair, was slightly cross-eyed, and was smiling. Fimushka showed the water-colour to her visitors. " That was I . . . ." she said. 219 VIRGIN SOIL "You?" " Yes, I. In my youth. A French artist, a capital painter, was in the habit of visiting at the house of my deceased father. So he painted me as a gift on my father's Name-day. And what a nice Frenchman he was ! He used to call on us after that, also. — He used to come in and give a scrape with his foot, and then wriggle it, and wriggle it, and kiss your hand, and when he went away, he would kiss his own fingers, — in- deed he would! — And he bowed right and left and behind and in front! He was a very nice Frenchman ! " The visitors praised his work; Pakhlin even thought that there still existed some degree of re- semblance. But at this point Fomushka began to talk about the French of the present day, and enun- ciated the opinion that they must have all become very malicious! — "Why so, Foma Lavrentie- vitch? " — "Why, good gracious! . . . What names they have taken to using! " — " For exam- ple?" — "Why, here, for example: Nojean-Saint- Lorrain! — a regular bandit!" — In this connec- tion, Fomushka inquired who was now reigning in Paris? — They told him that it was Napoleon. — This apparently amazed him and grieved him. — " You don't say so? . . . Such an old man . . . ." he began, and relapsed into silence, glancing about him in confusion. Fomushka knew very 220 VIRGIN SOIL little French, and read Voltaire in translation (under the head of his bed, in a private coffer, he kept a manuscript copy of " Candide ") — but he occasionally burst out into expressions such as: " that, my good sir, is a fausse parquet!" — (in the sense of " that is suspicious," " not true ") — at which many people laughed, until one learned Frenchman explained that that was the ancient parliamentary expression used in his native land prior to the year 1780. As the conversation had turned on France and the French, Fimushka brought herself to inquire about a certain matter which had been lingering in her mind. — At first she thought of applying to Markeloff, but he looked too sullen; she might have asked Solomin — but no! — she said to her- self, — he is a common person; he is not likely to know French. So she addressed herself to Nezh- danofF. " Well, my dear little father, I want to find out something from you," — she began; — "you must excuse me! For my young relative here, Sila Samsonitch, to wit, makes fun of me, an old woman, and at my feminine ignorance." "What is it?" " It is this. If any one wanted to put such a question as this, in the French dialect : ' What is that? '—ought he to say: 'Kese-kese-kese-lya?'" " Exactly that." " But could he also say: ' kese-kese-lya ? ' " 221 VIRGIN SOIL " Yes." » ?> " And simply: ' kese-lya? " He might do that, also." " And all would amount to the same thing? " " Yes." Fimushka reflected, and threw apart her hands. " Now, Silushka," — she said at last, — " I am in the wrong, and thou art in the right. Only, those French people! .... Poor things! " Pakhlin began to entreat the old people to sing some little romance. . . . They both laughed, and were surprised that the idea should have occurred to him; but they speedily assented, but only on condition that Snanduliya should sit down at the harpsichord and accompany them — she knew in what. In one corner there turned out to be a tiny piano which none of the visitors had noticed at first. Snandiiliya seated herself at this " harpsi- chord," struck a few chords. . . . Such toothless, shrill, wizened, decrepit sounds NezhdanofF had never heard since he was born ; but the old couple immediately struck up: " And was it then — that sadness — " began Fomushka — "In love should descend on us, That the gods have given us hearts 223 VIRGIN SOIL Which are capable of love ? ^ Doth the feeling of passion only — " responded Fimushka— "Without calamity, without malign mis- fortune Exist anywhere on earth ? " " Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere ! " — interpolated Fomushka ; " Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere ! " — repeated Fimushka; ** With it there is cruel sorrow Everywhere, everywhere, everywhere!" — they sang in unison : " Everywhere, everywhere, everywhere! " — Fomushka ended, in long-drawn tones. " Bravo! " shouted Paklilin:— " that 's the first couplet; and how about the second? " "Very well,"— replied Fomushka: — "only, Snanduliya Samsonovna, where is the trill? There ought to be a trill after my verse." "Very well," — replied Snanduliya; — "you shall have j^our trill." Fomushka began again: " Has any one loved in the universe Yet torment has not felt? *The alternate lines rhyme in the original. — Teanslatoh. VIRGIN SOIL Wliat lover, oh, what lover Hath not wept and sighed ? " And then Fimushka: " So the heart is as strange on the heights, As the boat that sinks in the sea. . . Why was it given to us ? " "For harm, for harm, for harm!" exclaimed Fomushka— and waited, tc give Snan- duliya time to make the trill. Snandiiliya made it. "For harm, for harm, for harm! " repeated Fomushka. And then both together: " Take back the heart, ye gods, Take back, take back, take back ! Take back, take back, take back ! " And everything again wound up with a trill. " Bravo! bravo! "—they all cried, with the ex- ception of MarkelofF, and then even clapped their hands. " Now I wonder,"— thought Nezhdanoff , as soon as the applause had ceased,—" whether they are conscious that they are acting the part . . . of clowns, as it were?— Perhaps not:— and per- haps they are conscious of it, but think : ' Where 's the harm since we are doing no one any mischief? We are even amusing others.' And, when you 224 VIRGIN SOIL come to think it over thoroughlj^ they are in the right, a hundred times in the right! " Under the influence of these thoughts, he sud- denly began to pay them compliments, in re- sponse to which they merely made slight courte- sies, without quitting their arm-chairs. . . But, at that moment, from the adjoining room, prob- ably a bed-chamber or the maids' room, whence whispering and rustling had long been audible, the dwarf Pufka suddenly made her appearance, accompanied by nurse Vasilievna. — Piifka began to squeak and writhe — and the nurse dissuaded her, and urged her on worse than before, by turns. JNIarkelofF, who had, for a long time, been ex- hibiting signs of impatience — ( Solomin merely smiled more broadly than usual) — MarkelojBP turned to Fomushka, all at once: " I had not expected it of you," — he began, with his harsh manner, — " that you, wdth your en- lightened mind,— for you are, I hear a disciple of Voltaire, — can amuse yourself with that which ought to constitute an object of commiseration— namely, with a deformed person " Here he remembered Pakhlin's sister, and bit his tongue; — and Fomushka turned scarlet: "Yes .... but you see ... it is n't I .. . she likes it herself. . ." But Pufka fairly pounced upon MarkelofF. " And what made thee take it into thy head," 225 VIRGIN SOIL —she burst out in her whirring voice,—" to in- sult my master and mistress? They have taken care of me, a wretched pauper, they have received me into their house, they give me food and drink — and thou enviest me! So it makes thee cross- eyed, does it, to look at other folks' bread? — And where didst thou get the idea, thou black- visaged, horrid, repulsive creature, with moustache like a black beetle's. . . ." Here Piifka demon- strated with her thick, short fingers what sort of moustache he had. — Vasilievna grinned to the full extent of her toothless mouth— and an echo was audible from the adjoining room. " I do not presume to judge you, of course," —said MarkelofF to Fomushka.— " To care for the poverty-stricken and the crippled is a good work. But permit me to remark to you : to live in abundance, to live in clover — not to oppress others, but yet not to lay finger to finger for the welfare of one's neighbour . . . does not con- stitute being good; I, at least, to tell the truth, attach no value whatever to that sort of good- ness! " Here Piifka uttered a deafening shriek; she had not understood a word of what Markeloff had been saying; but the "black-face" was scolding . . . how dared he? — Vasilievna also muttered something — and Fomushka clasped his hands on his breast — and turning his face to his wife—" Fimushka, my darling," — he said, al- 226 VIRGIN SOIL most sobbing — " dost thou hear what our gentle- man guest is saying? Thou and I are sinners, evil-doers, pharisees .... we are living in clover, 01 ! oi ! oi ! . . . Thou and I must be turned into the street, out of our house — and have a broom apiece put into our hands, in order that we may earn our own living — oh, ho-ho! " On hear- ing these melancholy words, Pufka took to shrieking worse than before, Fimushka narrowed her eyes, curled her lips — and, after inhaling plenty of air, in order that she might produce a good effect — she began to scream and cry at the top of her voice. . . . God knows how all this would have ended, had not Pakhlin interfered. " What 's the meaning of this! upon my word," — he began, flourishing his hands and laughing loudly, — " are n't you ashamed of yourselves? — Mr. MarkelofF was trying to joke; — but he has a very serious mien — and he was a trifle severe . . and you took it in earnest! — Enough of this! Evfemia Pavlovna, my dear creature, we are obliged to go away directly — so do you know what I am going to propose? by way of farewell . . . tell the fortunes of all of us . . . you are a master-hand at that. — Sister! Fetch the cards!" Fimushka glanced at her husband; the latter was already sitting there quite serenely; — and she calmed down. 227, VIRGIN SOIL "The cards, the cards,"— she repeated: — " but I have unlearned it, father ; I have forgot- ten — it 's a long time since I took them in my hands " But she did take into her hands, from the hands of Snandiiliya, a pack of ancient, extraordinary, ombre cards. " Whose fortune shall I tell? " " Why, all our fortunes," — said Pakhlin, promptly— but thought to himself: — " Well, what a volatile old lady it is! turn her any way you hke. . . She 's charming I— All our for- tunes, grandma, all," — he added, " the future, tell us everything ! " Fimushka was on the point of laying out the cards, when she suddenly flung the whole pack from her. " I do not need to tell your fortunes by the cards!"— she cried; "I know the characters of each one of you without that. — And according as the character is, so is the fate. — Now, that one" (she pointed at Solomin) — "is a cool, steadfast man; — and that one," — (she shook her finger at Markeloff ) — "is a hot-headed, de- structive man." . . . (Pufka stuck her tongue out at him) ; — " there 's no need of saying anything to thee,"— (she glanced at Pakhlin) ; " thou knowest thyself: weathercock! And that one . . . ." She pointed at Nezhdanoff — and faltered. ^28 VIRGIN SOIL « Well?" — said he — "speak out, pray: what sort of a man am I? " " What sort of a man art thou ..." drawled Fimushka: — " thou art a man who deserves to be pitied — that 's what thou art! " Nezhdanoff started. " Who deserves to be pitied! Why so? " " Because! I pity thee — so I do! " " But why? " " Because I have an eye that sees things. — Dost thou think I am a fool? On the contrary, I 'm more clever than thou, — in spite of the fact that thou hast red hair. — I pity thee . . . and that 's my word to thee! " All remained silent .... exchanged glances and continued to maintain silence. " Well, good-bye, friends,"— cried Pakhlin, noisily.—" We have overstayed our time with you, and you must be tired of us. — It is time for these gentlemen to be going . . . and I 'm going oif also. — Farewell; thanks for your courtesy!" " Good-bye, good-bye ; come again ; do not dis- dain us,"— said Fomushka and Fimushka with one voice. . . And Fomushka suddenly struck up: "Many, many, many years, many '"' ^ " Many, many,"— quite unexpectedly rumbled out Kalliopitch in his bass voice, as he opened the door for the young men 1 That is,"long life," chanted after toasts and the like.— Translator. 229 VIRGIN SOIL And all four suddenly found themselves in the street in front of the pot-bellied house; — and inside the windows resounded Pufka's shrill voice. " The fools . . . ." she shrieked, " the fools! " Pakhlin laughed loudly; but no one responded to him. MarkelofF even eyed each of them over in turn, as though expecting to hear some word of indignation. . . Solomin alone was smiling, as was his wont. 230 XX " Well, what do you think of it! "— Pakhhn was the first to speak. — " We have been in the eigh- teenth century,— now we must go ahead— straight into the twentieth!— Goliishkin is such a pro- gressive man, that it is improper to reckon him in the nineteenth century." "Why, dost thou know him?"— asked Nezh- danoff. "His fame fills the earth:— but I said, 'we must go ahead! ' because I intend to go with you." "What is the meaning of this? Why, thou art not acquainted with him? " "As if that mattered! And were you ac- quainted with my love-birds? " " But thou didst introduce us! " "And do you introduce me! — You cannot have any secrets from me — and Golushkin is a broad man. — He '11 be delighted at a new face, see if he isn't.— And here, with us in S. . . . things are simple." " Yes," — muttered MarkelofF, — " people are unceremonious here, with you." Pakhlin shook his head. " Perhaps you intend that for me. . . . Never 231 VIRGIN SOIL mind! I have deserved that reproof.— But, do you know, my new acquaintance, you 'd better lay aside for awhile the gloomy thoughts with which your bilious temperament inspires you I — and the chief thing " "Mr. My New Acquaintance,"— Markeloff in- terrupted him, vehemently, — " I will say to you, in my turn ... by way of warning: I never have had the slightest inclination for jokes — and particularly to-day! — And what do you know about my temperament/ ^^ (He emphasised the last syllable.) — " It strikes me that it is not so very long since we set eyes on each other for the first time." " Come, stop, stop, don't get angry— and don't swear — I believe you without that," — said Pakhlin— and, turning to Solomin:— " Oh, you,"— he exclaimed,—" you, whom even the perspicacious Fimushka called a cool man, — and in whom there certainly is something soothing — tell me, had I any intention of causing unpleas- antness to any one — or of jesting at an inappro- priate time? — I merely asked to be allowed to go with you to Goliishkin's — moreover, I am an in- offensive creature. — I am not to blame for Mr. MarkelofF's yellow complexion." Solomin first shrugged one shoulder, then the other; it was a trick he had when he could not immediately decide what answer to make. " No doubt,"— he said, at last,—" you, Mr. 232 VIRGIN SOIL Paldilin, cannot cause offence to any one — and 3'ou do not desire to do so: and why should not you go to Mr. Goliishkin's? I suppose that we shall pass the time as agreeably there as we did with your relatives;— and with the same profit." Pakhlin shook his finger at him. "Oh! but you are spiteful, I perceive! — But, of course, you are going to Goliishkin's also? " " Of course I am. Otherwise, I should have wasted to-day." " Well, then — ' en avant, marclions! "—to the twentieth century! to the twentieth century! — NezhdanofF, progressive man, lead the way! " "Very well; — go ahead;— but don't repeat j^our witticisms. Some one might suspect that you were running short of them." " I 've got enough in stock for the likes of you," merrily retorted Pakhlin, and set out, as he said— not hop, skip, and jump, but " hop, skip, and limp." "A very entertaining gentleman!" — re- marked Solomin, as he followed him, arm in arm with NezhdanofF: — " if we all get exiled to Si- beria, there will be some one to amuse us." MarkelofF walked on in silence behind them all. And in the meantime all measures were being taken in the house of merchant Golushkin, to serve dinner " in fine style," or " with chic." Fish-soup was cooked, very greasy— and very bad; various " patisho and f rykasyei " were 233 VIRGIN SOIL prepared— (Goliishkin, in his quality of a man who stood at the apex of European civil- isation, although he was an Old Ritualist, main- tained a French kitchen, and hired a man cook from the Club whence he had been expelled for uncleanliness) — and, most important of all, sev- eral bottles of champagne were provided and put on the ice. The host greeted our young men with the clumsy grimaces peculiar to him, a hurried aspect, and giggles.— He was very much pleased to see Pakhlin, as the latter had predicted that he would be. He asked him : " Are you really one of us? " — and, without waiting for an answer, ex- claimed:—" Well, of course! I should think so! " Then he narrated how he had just been to see " that queer fellow," the Governor, who was for- ever bothering him about some philanthropic in- stitutions—the devil only knows what. . . And positively, it was impossible to decide what grati- fied Goliishkin most: that he was received by the Governor, or that he had contrived to revile him, in the presence of young, progressive men. Then he introduced to them the promised pros- elyte. And whom did this proselyte turn out to be? That same smoothly-licked, consumptive man, with a jug-like phiz, who had entered that morning with a report, and whom Golushkin had called Vasya, — his manager. — " He 's not eloquent," — Golushkin assured them, pointing 234 VIRGIN SOIL at him with all five fingers,—" but he is devoted to our cause with all his soul."— And Vasya merely bowed, and blushed, and blinked, and dis- played his teeth in a grin, with such an air, that once again it was impossible to understand what sort of a fellow he was: a common-place little fool— or, on the contrary— the most perfect rogue and rascal? " Well, but to table, gentlemen, to table,"— babbled Goliishkin. — They seated themselves at the table, having first eaten heartily of the rel- ishes. Immediately after the soup, Goliishkin ordered the champagne to be served. Like frozen scraps of the first thin ice of winter, it trickled out of the necks of the bottles into the glasses held up to receive it. — " To our ... to our enterprise!" exclaimed Goliishkin, winking one eye the while, and nodding his head toward the servant, thereby letting it be understood that they must be cautious in the presence of out- siders. The proselyte Vasya continued to remain mute— and, although he sat on the edge of his chair, and, in general, behaved with an obse- quiousness which was not at all in keeping with the convictions to which he, according to his master's statements, was devoted with all his soul— yet he guzzled the wine desperately! . . . On the other hand, all the others talked; that is to say, in reality, the host talked— and so did Pakhlin— especially Paklilin. NezhdanofF 235 VIRGIN SOIL was inwardly vexed ; IMarkeloff was in a rage and fury — in a different way, but no less violently, than at the SubotchefF's ; Solomin took obser- vations. Pakhlin enjoyed himself !— With his audacious language he pleased Golushkin extraordinarily, for the latter had no suspicion that that same " limpy " kept whispering in the ear of Nezhda- noff, who sat next to him, the most spiteful re- marks about him, Golushkin! — He even assumed that the former was a simple sort of young fel- low, and that he might be " handled " patronis- ingly . . . and that was one reason — among others— why he liked him. Had Pakhlin been sitting beside him, he would long since have poked him in the ribs with his finger or slapped him on the shoulder; he kept nodding at him across the table, and wagging his head in his di- rection . . . but between NezhdanofF and him there sat, in the first place Markeloff — that " gloomy cloud " — and then Solomin. — To make up for this, Golushkin, at every word Pakhlin uttered, laughed gaily on faith, in advance, tap- ping himself on the belly, displaying his bluish gums. Pakhlin speedily comprehended what was required of him, and began to revile everything — (which exactly suited him) — everything and everybody: both the conservatives and the lib- erals, the officials and the lawyers, the adminis- trators and the landed proprietors, and the mem- 236 VIRGIN SOIL bers of the county council, and of the town coun- cil, and Moscow and Petersburg ! "Yes, yes, yes, yes," — chimed in Goliishkin; — " just so, just so, just so, just so!— Here, for instance, is our Mayor — a perfect ass! He 's an impenetrable blockhead! — I tell him thus and so . . . . but he understands nothing; he 's as bad as our Governor himself! " "And is your Governor stupid? "—inquired Pakhlin. " Why, I tell you he 's an ass! " " Have you noticed whether he speaks with a rattle or with a snuffle? " "What?" — inquired Golushkin, not without surprise. "But is it possible that you do not know? With us, in Russia, important civilians rattle in their throats; important military men talk through their noses with a snuffle; — and only the very loftiest dignitaries both rattle and snuffle, simul- taneously." Golushkin roared, he even wept with laughter. "Yes, yes," — he lisped: — "he talks with a snuffle . . . through his nose with a snuffle. . . . He 's a military man ! " " Akh, you dolt! "—said Paklilin to himself. " With us everything is rotten, touch where you will!" — shouted Golushkin, a little later. — " Everything, everything is rotten! " " Most respected Kapiton Andreitch,"— re- 237 VIRGIN SOIL marked Pakhlln, impressively — and quietly said to NezhdanofF: " Why does he keep jerking his arms out as though his coat cut him under the arms?"— "Most respected Kapiton Andreitch, believe me, half measures will do no good here! " "What half measures?" — shouted Golushkin, suddenly ceasing to laugh, and assuming a seri- ous mien: — " there 's only one thing to be done; pluck them up by the roots! — Vaska, drink, you cursed dog! " " But I am drinking, Kapiton Andreitch," — replied the clerk, emptying a glass down his throat. Golushkin also " filled himself to the brim." " Why in the world does n't he burst! " — whis- pered Pakhlin to Nezhdanoff . " Habit! "—replied the latter. But the clerk was not the only one who drank the wine. Little by little it began to take effect on all of them. — NezhdanoiF, Markeloff, even Solomin gradually began to take part in the con- versation. At first, as though with scorn, as though with vexation at himself that he was not upholding his character and was allowing himself to beat the air vainly, NezhdanofF began to enlarge upon the fact that it was time to stop amusing them- selves with mere words, time to " act "; — he even referred to " a secure foundation! " And at this point, not observing that he was contradicting 238 VIRGIX SOIL himself, he began to demand that they should point out to him those existing, real elements on which it was possible to rely, since he could not perceive them. — " In society there is no sym- pathy, in the populace there is no consciousness, . . . . struggle as you will!" Of course, no one made him any answer ; not because there was no answer to make — but each one of them had already begun to utter his own ideas also. — Mar- keloff began to drum away, in a dull and spite- ful voice, persistently^ monotonously — (" for all the world as though he were chopping up cab- bage," — remarked Pakhlin). Precisely what he was talking about was not quite intelligible; the word " artillery " became audible from his lips, at moments when a lull occurred .... in all probability he was alluding to the defects which he had discovered in its organisation. The Ger- mans and adjutants caught it heavily also. Even Solomin remarked that there are two ways of waiting; to wait and do nothing, and to wait and advance the cause. " We don't want any advocates of gradual change," remarked JNIarkelofF, morosely. " The advocates of gradual changes have, so far, come from above," — remarked Solomin, — " but w^e are going to make an effort from be- low." " We don't want them, to the devil with them! we don't want them," — chimed in Golushkin, 239 VIRGIN SOIL fiercely;— "it must be done at one onset, at one onset! " " That is to say, you want to jump out of the window? " "And jump I will!" — roared Golushkin.— "I '11 jump!— and Vaska will jump!— If I give the command, he'll jump! Hey? Vaska? — Thou wilt jump, wilt thou not? " The clerk drained his glass of champagne. " Whithersoever you go, Kapiton Andreitch, there I go also. — Dare I judge? " "Ah! that 's right!— I '11 twist thee into a r-ram's h-horn! " There speedily ensued what is known in the language of drunkards as the tower of Babel. There arose a " vast " noise and uproar.— As the first snow-flakes flutter, swiftly succeeding one another, and shimmer in the warm autumn air, — so, in the heated atmosphere of Goliishkin's dining-room did all sorts of words whirl about, conflicting with and crowding one another : prog- ress, government, literature; the tax problem, classicism, realism, nihilism, communism ; interna- tional, clerical, liberal, capital; administration, organisation, association, and even crystallisa- tion! Apparently it was precisely this uj)roar which sent Golushkin into ecstasies; therein, ap- parently, so far as he was concerned, lay the real essence of the thing. . . . He was triumphant! — "Know our people!" he seemed to say. 240 VIRGIN soil; " Stand aside ... or I '11 kill you! . . . Kapi- ton Andreitch is coming!" — The clerk, Vasya, got so tipsy at last that he began to snort and to talk at his plate, and suddenly he shouted out like a madman: — "What the devil are pro- gymnasia? ! " Golushkin suddenly rose to his feet,— and throwing back his crimsoned face, whereon, with the expression of coarse despotism and triumph there was strangely intermingled the expression of a different sentiment, resembling secret alarm, and even trepidation,— he bawled: " I contribute another fousand! — Vaska, fetch it here!" to which Vaska replied, in an undertone: — " Splen- did! " And Pakhlin, all pale and perspiring (for the last quarter of an hour he had been vicing with the clerk in his potations), — Pakhlin, jumping up from his seat, said with a faltering tongue: — "I contribute! He uttered: 'I con- tribute!' — Oh! insult to that sacred word— I sacrifice ! ^ No one dares to raise himself to thee, no one has the power to fulfil those obligations which thou imposest, at least no one of us here present,— and that self -fool, that vile sack has shaken his bloated belly, has strewn out a handful of rubles, and shouts : ' I sacrifice ! ' And he de- mands gratitude! he expects a crown of laurel — the villain!" Golushkin either did not hear or *To contribute and to sacrifice are indentical in Russian. — Translator. 241 VIRGIN SOIL did not understand what Pakhlin had said, or, possibly, he accepted his words in the light of a jest, for he once more roared: " Yes! a fousand rubles! What Kapiton Goliishkin has said is sacred ! " He suddenly thrust his hand into his side pocket. — " Here— here is the money!— There now, pick it up; and remember Kapiton!" — As soon as he got a little excited, he spoke of him- self, as small children do, in the third person. NezhdanofF gathered up the bank-bills which were scattered over the dripping table-cloth. But after that there was no reason for remaining ; and it was getting late. All rose, took their hats, — and departed. When they got into the open air the heads of all began to swim — especially Pakhlin's. "Well?— where are we going now?" — he ejaculated not without difficulty. " I don't know where you are going," — replied Solomin, — " but I am going home." "To the factory?" " Yes." " Now-by night— afoot? " " What of that? — There are neither wolves nor brigands here, and I am a good walker. — It is cooler by night, too." " But it is four versts thither! " " I don't care if it were five.— Farewell for the present, gentlemen ! " Solomin buttoned up his coat, pulled his cap 242 VIRGIN SOIL down on his forehead, lighted a cigar, and went off down the street with great strides. " And whither art thou going? "— Pakhhn ap- pealed to NezhdanofF. " I 'm going home with him."— He pointed to Markeloff, who was standing motionless, with his arms folded on his breast.—" We have our horses here, and our carriage." " Well, very good . . . and I, brother, am going to the oasis, to Fomushka and Fimu- shka. And here I will tell thee something, brother.— There is nonsense there and nonsense here. . . . Only, that nonsense,— the nonsense of the eighteenth century,— is nearer to Russian real life than this twentieth-century stuff.— Good-bye, gentlemen; I am drunk . . . don't be hard on me. — Hearken to what I am about to say to you! There is n't a woman in the world . . . kinder . . . and better . . . than my sis- ter .. . Snanduliya; but then, she 's a hunch- back, and she— she 's Snanduliya. And that 's the way it always is in this world!— However, it is fitting that she should have that name.— Do you know who Saint Snanduliya was? A benevolent woman who went about to the prisons, and healed the wounds of the prisoners and the sick.— But, good-bye! Good-bye, Nezhdanoff . . . thou man worthy of pity! And thou, officer . . . phew! thou phantom of an officer! good-bye! " He wended his way, limping and staggering, 243 VIRGIN SOIL to the "oasis";— and Markeloff, in company with NezhdanoiF, sought out the posting-house, where they had left their tarantas, ordered the horses to be put to— and half an hour later they were rolling along the highway. XXI Low-hanging clouds veiled the sky — and al- though it was not entirely dark and the wheel- marks were visible on the road, faintly shining ahead, yet to the right and the left everything was obscured, and the outlines of detached ob- jects flowed together into large, confused spots. — It was a dim, windless night; the breeze blew up by fits and starts in damp gusts, bringing with it the odour of rain, and of broad grain-fields. When, after passing through the oak-scrub, which served as a landmark, the time came for them to turn off into the country road, matters became still worse; the narrow way completely vanished from time to time. . . . The coachman drove more slowly. " I hope we shall not lose our way," — re- marked NezhdanofF, who had maintained silence up to that moment. " No; we shall not lose our way! " — said Mar- keloff. — " Two calamities do not happen in one day." " But what was the first calamity, pray? " " The first? Why, that we have wasted the day, — do you count that as nothing? " 245 VIRGIN SOIL " Yes .... of course. . . . That Golii- shkin! — We ought not to have drunk so much wine. I have a deadly headache now." " I am not speaking of Golushkin ; he gave some money, at any rate; — so some profit has en- sued from our visit! " "Is it possible, then, that you regret that Pa- khlin should have taken us to his . . . what the deuce was it he called them . . . his love-birds ? " " There 's no occasion for regretting that . . . nor for rejoicing at it, either. You see, I 'm not the sort of person who takes an interest in such toys. ... I was not alluding to that calamity." "To what one, then?" Markeloff made no reply, and only fidgeted about a little in his corner, as though he were wrapping himself up. NezhdanofF could not make out his face very distinctly ; only his mous- tache formed a black, horizontal line; but ever since the morning he had been conscious of the presence in Markeloff of something which it was better not to meddle with— some dull and secret irritation. "See here, Sergyei Mikhailovitch," he began, after a brief pause; "is it possible that you are seriously enraptured with the letters of that Mr. KislyakofF, which you gave me to read to-day? Why — pardon the expression— they are balder- dash!" Markeloff straightened himself up. 246 VIRGIN SOIL " In the first place,"— said he, in a wrathful voice,—" I do not in the least share your opinion as to those letters, but find them very remark- able . . . and conscientious! And, in the sec- ond place, KislyakofF is toiling, labouring— and, most important of all, he believes; he believes in our cause, he believes in the re-vo-lu-tion ! I must tell you one thing, Alexyei Dmitritch — I notice that you — you are growing cold toward our cause: — vou do not believe in it! " " From what do j^ou draw that conclusion? " —articulated NezhdanofF, slowly. " From what? Why, from every one of your words, from your whole conduct! — To-day, at Goliishkin's, who was it that said that he did not see on what elements we could rely? — You! — Who demanded that they should be pointed out to him?— You, again! And when that friend of 3^ours, that emptj^-pated merry-andrew and scoffer, Mr. Pakhlin, began, with his eyes rolled skyward, to assert that not one of us was capable of making a sacrifice, who was it that backed him up,— who was it that nodded his head approv- ingly?— Wasn't it you?— Talk about yourself as much as you like, and as j^ou like .... that is your affair . . . but I know people who have seen their way to renouncing everything which makes life fair— even the bliss of love— in order that they may serve their convictions — in order that they may not prove false to them!— Well, 247 VIRGIN SOIL you are not in the mood for that to-day, of course! " " To-day? Why to-day in particular? " " Come, don't dissimulate, for God's sake, you happjT^ Don Juan, you lover crowned with myr- tles!" — shouted MarkelofF, entirely forgetting the coachman, who, although he did not turn round on his box, could hear everything with per- fect distinctness. To tell the truth, the coach- man was at that moment far more preoccupied with the road than with all the altercations of the gentlemen who were sitting behind him — and he cautiously and rather timidly loosened the reins of the shaft-horse, which tossed its head and held back as the tarantas descended some declivity which should not have been there at all. " Pardon me— I do not understand you in the least "—said NezhdanoiF. MarkelofF burst into a constrained and mali- cious laugh. " You do not understand me! Ha, ha, ha! — I know everything, my dear sir! I know with whom you exchanged declarations of love last night; I know whom you have captivated by your fortunate personal appearance and your eloquence; I know who it is that admits you to her chamber .... after ten o'clock at night ! " "Master!" — the coachman suddenly addressed JMarkeloff.— " Please to take the reins ... I will get down and look about. . . We seem to 248 VIRGIN SOIL have lost our way, . , There 's a ravine yonder, I think " The tarantas was, in fact, leaning all to one side. MarkeloiF seized the reins which the coachman handed to him, and went on, as loudly as be- fore : " I do not blame you in the least, Alexyei Dmi- tritch! You have taken advantage of . . . you were right. I am merely saying that I am not surprised at your having grown cold toward the common cause; that is not what you have on 3^our mind— I will say it once more. And I will add, incidentally, on my own account: where is the man who can divine, in advance, that precisely he is going to please the hearts of maidens— or can comprehend what they desire? . . ." " I understand you now," — began Nezhda- nofF; — " I understand your distress, I divine who it was that watched us and hastened to commu- nicate to you. ..." " Merits do not count, in that case " — pursued MarkelofF, feigning not to hear NezhdanoiF, and purposely prolonging and, as it were, intoning every word — " nor any extraordinary spiritual or physical qualities. . . No! It is simply . . . that thrice-accursed luck of all illegitimate chil- dren . . of all bastards! " Markeloff uttered tlie final phrase swiftly and 24.9 VIRGIN SOIL vehemently, and suddenly became as mute as though he had swooned. But even through the darkness Nezhdanoff felt himself turn white all over, and chills ran down his cheeks. He could hardly refrain from hurling himself on MarkelofT, from clutching him by the throat. ..." That insult must be washed out with blood — with blood. . . ." "I have found the road!" — cried the coach- man, making his appearance beside the off front wheel—" I went a little astray, turned to the left . . . it 's all right now! — we '11 get there in a jiflpy; it is n't a verst to our house. Please take your seat! " He climbed on the box, took the reins from MarkelofF, turned the shaft-horse to one side. . . The tarantas gave a couple of violent jolts— then it rolled onward more evenly and more speedily — the fog seemed to part and to lift, it curled away like smoke — a sort of hillock started up ahead. Now a light twinkled— it vanished. . . Another twinkled. . . A dog barked. . . . "Our settlement," — remarked the coachman; " ekh, you darling kittens! " The lights came to meet them more and more frequently. " After this affront,"— said Nezhdanoff, at last,—" you will easily comprehend, Sergyei Mi- khailovitch, that it is impossible for me to pass the night under your roof; and therefore there is 250 VIRGIN SOIL nothing left for me to do, but to ask you, how- ever disagreeable it may be to me, that on reach- ing home you will let me have your tarantas, which will take me to the town ; to-morrow I will find means of getting home;— and from there you will receive from me the intimation which you are, in all likelihood, expecting." MarkelofF did not immediately reply. " Nezhdanoff,"— he suddenly said, in a low, but almost despairing voice.—" Nezhdanoff! For God's sake, come into my house— if only in order that I may entreat your forgiveness on my bended knees!— Nezhdanoff ! Forget . . . forget thou, forget my mad words ! Akh, if any one could realise how unhappy I am! " — Marke- loff smote himself with his clenched fist on the breast — and something within it seemed to utter a moan.— " Nezhdanoff, be thou magnanimous! Give me thy hand. . . . Do not refuse to forgive me!" Nezhdanoff put out his hand to him — irreso- lutely, but still he put it out.— Markeloff squeezed it so hard that the other man came near crying out. The tarantas drew up at the porch of Marke- loff*'s house. "Listen, Nezhdanoff,"-Markeloff said to him a quarter of an hour later, in his own study, . . . . " listen." (He no longer addressed him otherwise than as " thou," and in that unexpected 251 VIRGIN SOIL thoti^ applied to the man, in whom he had dis- covered a happy rival, to whom he had just dealt a bloody insult, whom he had been ready to slay, to rend in pieces — in that " thou " there lay ir- revocable renunciation — and submissive, bitter entreaty — and a certain right . . . Nezhdanoif recognised that right in that he himself began to address MarkeloiF as thou). " Listen! I told thee just now that I had re- nounced the happiness of love, had repelled it, in order that I might serve my convictions alone. .... That is nonsense, boastfulness! Nothing of the sort was ever offered to me, I had nothing to reject! I was born unlucky, and so I have re- mained, . . Or, perhaps it had to be so. — There- fore, my hands are not set to that — something else awaits me! If thou art able to unite both things ... to love, and to be loved .... and, at the same time, to serve the cause . . . well, then thou art a gallant fellow! — I envy thee .... but I myself am not! I cannot. Thou art a lucky man! Thou art a lucky man! — But I cannot." Markeloff said all this in a quiet voice, as he sat on a low chair, with drooping head, and with arms hanging like whip-lashes. Nezhdanoff was standing in front of him, absorbed in a sort of meditative attention, and although Markeloff had given him the title of a happy man, he nei- ther looked nor felt like one. " A woman deceived me in my youth . . . ." 252 VIRGIN SOIL went on Markeloff ;— " she was a splendid girl, and yet she betrayed me . . and for whom? For a German! for an adjutant!! But Mari- anna . . . ." He paused. . . He had uttered her name for the first time, and it seemed to scorch his lips. " Marianna did not deceive me: she told me plainly that I did not please her. . . And what was there about me to please her? — Well, and she has given herself to thee. . . Well, and what of that? Was not she free ? " "But stay, stay!" — exclaimed NezhdanoiF. — " What art thou saying? — What dost thou mean by saying she has given herself? — I do not know what thy sister has written to thee; but I assure thee . . . ." " I do not say, phj^sically, but she has given herself morally — with her heart and her soul " — put in Markeloff, who was evidently pleased, for some reason or other, by NezhdanofF's ex- clamation.—" And she has done very well indeed. And my sister. . . . Of course, she had no in- tention of distressing me. . . That is to say, in reality the whole thing is a matter of indifference to her; but it must be that she hates thee— and Marianna also. — She did not lie ... . how- ever, I have done with her! " " Yes,"— said Nezhdanoff to himself:—" she does hate us." " It is all for the best," pursued IMarkelofF, 253 VIRGIN SOIL not altering his attitude. — " Now the last fetters have been removed from me; now nothing fur- ther impedes me! Pay no heed to the fact that Golushkin is a self -fool: that is nothing. And KislyakofF's letters . . . possibly they are ridic- idous ... in fact; but thou must pay attention to the principal point. According to his state- ments . . everything is ready everywhere. — Per- haps thou dost not believe that? " NezhdanofF made no answer. "Perhaps thou art right; — but, thou seest, if we are to wait for the minute when everything — absolutely everything — is ready, the time to be- gin will never arrive. — For if all the consequences are to be weighed in advance, there assuredly will be some bad ones among them. For exam- ple, when our predecessors organised the emanci- pation of the serfs — what then? could they fore- see that one of the results of that emancipation would be the appearance of a whole class of usu- rious landed proprietors who would sell a peasant a quarter of rotten rye for six rubles — and re- ceive from him " (here MarkelofF bent down one finger) : "in the first place, labour, to the value of the whole six rubles, and, over and above that," — (MarkelofF bent down another finger) — "a whole quarter of good rye — and in addition " — (Markeloff bent a tliird finger) — "with a sup- plement! that is to say, they suck out the peas- ant's last drop of blood ! For those emancipators 254 VIRGIN SOIL of yours could not foresee this— you must agree! And, nevertheless, even if they had foreseen it, they would have done well in liberating the peas- ants — and in not weighing all the consequences! And so ... . my mind is made up ! " NezhdanofF looked inquiringly and with sur- prise at MarkelofF ; but the latter averted his gaze to one side — to a corner. His brows contracted, and covered his eyeballs ; he bit his lips and chewed his moustache. "Yes, my mind is made up!" — he repeated, bringing his hairy, swarthy fist down on his knee with a bang. — " You see, I am stubborn. . . It is not for nothing that I am half Little Russian." Then he rose, and shuffling his feet as though they had grown feeble, he went into his bedroom, and brought thence a small portrait of Marianna under glass. " Take it," — he said, in a sad but even voice; — "I made that once on a time. I draw badly; but look at it, it strikes me that it is like her " — (the portrait, sketched with pencil, in profile, really was a good likeness). — " Take it, brother; this is my last will and testament. Together with this portrait I transfer to thee not my rights . . . I never had any . . . but, thou knowest, every- thing! I transfer to thee everything — and her. She is a fine girl, brother! . . . ." MarkelofF stopped; his breast was heaving visibly. 255 VIRGIN SOIL « Take it. Surely, thou art not angry with me? Come, take it. But now, I need nothing .... of that sort." NezhdanofF took the portrait; but a strange feehng oppressed his breast. It seemed to him that he had no right to accept that gift ; that, had INIarkeloiF known what he, NezhdanofF, had on his heart, perhaps he would not have given away that portrait. NezhdanofF held in his hand that small, circular bit of cardboard, carefully mounted in a narrow black frame, with a slender line of gold paper — and did not know what to do with it. — " Why, this is the man's whole life that I hold in my hand," — he thought. He un- derstood what a sacrifice MarkelofF was mak- ing, but why, why to him in particular?— And give away the portrait? No! That would be the most malignant insult yet. — And, in conclusion, that face was dear to him, of course; of course he loved her! NezhdanofF raised his eyes to MarkelofF, not without some inward terror . . . lest the latter might be gazing at him — might be trying to catch his thought?— But MarkelofF's eyes were again riveted on the corner, and he was chewing his moustache. The aged servant entered the room with a candle in his hand. MarkelofF gave a start. It is time to go to bed, brother Alexyei! "— 256 a VIRGIN SOIL he exclaimed. — " The morning is wiser than the evening. I will give thee horses to-morrow — thou shalt drive home — and good-bye to thee." "Good-bye to thee, also, old fellow!"— he added suddenly, addressing the servant, and tap- ping him on the shoulder.—" Think kindly of me!" The old man was so astounded that he came near dropping the candles, and his gaze, fixed on his master, expressed something dif- ferent from— and greater than his wonted dejection. Nezhdanoff went away to his room. He felt uncomfortable. His head still ached from the wine he had drunk, there was a ringing in his ears, things flitted before his eyes, although he closed them. Golushkin, Vaska the clerk, F6- mushka, Fimushka- spun round and round be- fore him ; afar off, the image of Marianna could not make up its mind to approach, as though it felt distrust. Everything he had done and said himself seemed to him so false and such a lie, such useless and mawkish twaddle .... and that which ought to be done, that toward which he should strive,— was no one knew where, in- accessible, behind ten locks, buried in the utter- most depths of hell. . . . And he tried, incessantly, to rise, to go to Markeloff, to say to him: " Take thy gift, take it back!" 257 VIRGIN SOIL " Phew! What a disgusting thing life is I "— he exclaimed at last. He took his departure early the next morning. MarkelofF was already on the porch, surrounded by peasants. Whether he had summoned them, or whether they had come of their own accord, NezhdanofF did not find out; MarkelofF took leave of him in a very cuii: and monosyllabic way .... but appeared to be making up his mind to communicate to him something important. The old servant was in evidence, also, with his immutable gaze. The tarantas soon dashed through the town, and turning into the fields, rolled briskly along. — The horses were the same; but the coachman, — whether because NezhdanofF lived in a wealthy house, or for some other reason, he reckoned upon a fine tip nevertheless, it is a well-known fact : when the coachman has had a drink of liquor, or confidently expects one— the horses make excel- lent speed. It was June weather, though cool; there were lofty sportive clouds in the blue sky, a strong even breeze, the road was free from dust, which had been laid by the rain of the pre- ceding day, the willows were rustling and shim- mering and rippling,— everything was stirring and fljang,— the cry of the quail was borne, in a shrill whistle, from the distant hillocks, across the green ravines, exactly as though the cry had wings, and were flying with them,— the daws 258 . VIRGIN SOIL were gleaming in the sunlight, Something resem- bling dark-hued fleas was walking along the level line of the bare horizon ... it was peasants ploughing the fallow fields for the second time. But NezhdanofF allowed all this to pass him by ... he did not even notice when he reached the Sipyagin estate— to such a degree was he engrossed in his thoughts. But he shuddered when he espied the roof of the house, the upper story, the window of Mari- anna's chamber.—" Yes,"— he said to himself,— and his heart grew warm:— '^'^^^ is right— she is a fine girl— and I love her." 259 XXII He hastily changed his clothes and went to give Kolya his lesson. — Sipyagin, whom he encoun- tered in the dining-room, howed to him coldly and politely — and, filtering through his teeth the words: " Did you have a good time? " — pursued his way to his study. — The statesman had al- ready determined, in his ministerial mind, that as soon as the vacation was over, he would in- stantly despatch that " decidedly too handsome " — teacher to Petersburg, and, in the meanwhile, would keep a sharp eye on him. — " Je nai pas eu la mam heureuse cette fois-ci" he thought to himself; "however, j'aurais pu toinher pire." — Valentina Mikhailovna's sentiments toward NezhdanofF were far more energetic and clearly defined. She could no longer tolerate him at all. . . . He, that horrid little boy!— he had insulted her. — Marianna had made no mistake: it was she, Valentina Mildiailovna, who had played the eavesdropper in the corridor on her and Nezh- danoff. . . . The illustrious lady had not dis- dained to do this. In the course of the two days during which he had been absent, she, although she said nothing to her " light-minded " relative, 260 VIRGIN SOIL — yet constantly gave her to understand, that she knew all, that she would have been incensed, were it not, in part, that she scorned, in part commiser- ated her. . . . Repressed, inward disdain filled her cheeks, a sentiment which was both mocking and compassionate elevated her brows when she glanced at Marianna or spoke to her; her won- derful eyes lingered with soft amazement, with sorrowful fastidiousness on the presumptuous young girl who, after all her " freaks and eccen- tricities," had ended by ki . . . is . . . sing in a dark room a student who had not graduated from the university ! Poor Marianna! Her stern, proud lips had known no kisses as yet. But Valentina Mikhailovna never hinted to her husband at the discovery she had made; she contented herself with accompanying the few words which she addressed to Marianna in his presence — with an expressive little simper, which had nothing whatever to do with their tenor. — Valentina Mikhailovna even felt rather repent- ant for having written that letter to her brother. .... But, after all, she preferred to repent, and that the thing should have been done— rather than not repent, and that letter should have re- mained unwritten. NezhdanofF caught a glimpse of Marianna in the dining-room, at breakfast. He thought she had grown thin and sallow : she was not pretty 261 VIRGIN SOIL that day; but the swift glance which she cast at him, as soon as he entered the room, pierced his very heart.— On the other hand, Valentina Mi- khailovna stared at him as though she were con- stantly repeating inwardly: — "I offer you my congratulations! Very fine, indeed! Very clever! " — and, at the same time, as though she would have liked to read in his countenance whether MarkelofF had shown him her letter or not?— She eventually decided that he had shown it. Sipyagin, on learning that Nezhdanoff had been to the factory which Solomin managed, be- gan to interrogate him about that " establish- ment, in every respect interesting to industry;" — and becoming promptly convinced, from the young man's replies, that he had actually seen nothing there himself, he relapsed into majestic silence, as though censuring himself for having expected any practical information from such an immature person! — As Marianna quitted the dining-room, she contrived to whisper to Nezh- danoff : " Wait for me in the old birch-grove, at the end of the park;— I will go there as soon as I can."— Nezhdanoff thought: " She, also, ad- dresses me as ' thou ' — just as he did." — And how pleasant, though rather painful, it was to him! . . . and how strange it would have been — yes, fairly impossible— had she suddenly begun 262 VIRGIN SOIL again to call him " you "—if she had turned away from him. . . . He felt that that would be a misfortune for him. — Whether he was in love with her— he did not yet know; but she had become dear to him — and close to him — and necessary to him .... that was the principal thing: necessary— he felt that, with his whole being. The grove whither Marianna had despatched him consisted of a hundred lofty, ancient, chiefly weeping birches. The wind had not died down; the long tufts of branches swayed and fluttered about like loosely-flowing locks of hair; the clouds, as before, were floating high aloft and swiftly; — and when one of them flitted across tho sun, everything round about became, not dark, but uniform in hue.— But now it passed over — and suddenly, everywhere, brilliant flecks of light tossed mutinously again: they became entangled, they shimmered, they intermingled with spots of shadow . . . the sound and the movement were identical; but what a festive joy was added thereto! With the same sort of joy- ous efl'ort does passion force its way into the darkened heart. . . . And just that sort of a heart did NezhdanofF bear in his breast. He leaned against the trunk of a birch-tree and began to wait.— He did not— strictly speak- ing—know what he felt — and he did not wish to know; he felt more afraid, and more at ease, 263 VIRGIN SOIL than he had at Markeloff' s. He wished, first of all, to see her, to talk with her; that knot which suddenly binds two living beings had already seized him in its grasp. — Nezhdanoff called to mind the rope which flies to the shore from the steamer when the latter is about to make a landing Now it has encircled a post, and the steamer comes to a halt In port! Thank God! He suddenly shuddered. A woman's gown was flitting along the path in the distance. It was she. But whether she was approaching him or receding from him, he did not know, until he saw the spots of light and shadow glide across her face from below upward . . . which signi- fied that she was approaching. They would have glided downward from above, had she been re- ceding. A few moments more and she stood by his side, in front of him, with welcoming, viva- cious countenance, with a caressing gleam in her eyes, with lips which smiled faintly but mer- rily. — He grasped her outstretched hands— but for the moment was unable to articulate a single word;— neither did she say anything. She had walked very rapidly, and was slightly out of breath; but it was obvious that she was greatly rejoiced by his joy. She was the first to speak. Well, what news,"— she began,— "tell me, 264