Short Stories by Chekhov
to reach both holes. They thrust the stick in and dragged it through. I
went plop into the ice-hole just as I was, in my fur coat and my high
boots, while they stood and shoved me, one with his foot and one with
his stick, then dragged me under the ice and pulled me out of the other
hole."
Lyubka shuddered and shrugged.
"At first I was in a fever from the cold," Merik went on, "but when they
pulled me out I was helpless, and lay in the snow, and the Molokans
stood round and hit me with sticks on my knees and my elbows. It hurt
fearfully. They beat me and they went away . . . and everything on me
was frozen, my clothes were covered with ice. I got up, but I couldn't
move. Thank God, a woman drove by and gave me a lift."
Meanwhile Yergunov had drunk five or six glasses of vodka; his heart
felt lighter, and he longed to tell some extraordinary, wonderful story
too, and to show that he, too, was a bold fellow and not afraid of
anything.
"I'll tell you what happened to us in Penza Province . . ." he began.
Either because he had drunk a great deal and was a little tipsy, or
perhaps because he had twice been detected in a lie, the peasants took
not the slightest notice of him, and even left off answering his
questions. What was worse, they permitted themselves a frankness in his
presence that made him feel uncomfortable and cold all over, and that
meant that they took no notice of him.
Kalashnikov had the dignified manners of a sedate and sensible man; he
spoke weightily, and made the sign of the cross over his mouth every
time he yawned, and no one could have supposed that this was a thief, a
heartless thief who had stripped poor creatures, who had already been
twice in prison, and who had been sentenced by the commune to exile in
Siberia, and had been bought off by his father and uncle, who were as
great thieves and rogues as he was. Merik gave himself the airs of a
bravo. He saw that Lyubka and Kalashnikov were admiring him, and looked
upon himself as a very fine fellow, and put his arms akimbo, squared his
chest, or stretched so that the bench creaked under him. . . .
After supper Kalashnikov prayed to the holy image without getting up
from his seat, and shook hands with Merik; the latter prayed too, and
shook Kalashnikov's hand. Lyubka cleared away the supper, shook out on
the table some peppermint biscuits, dried nuts, and pumpkin seeds, and
placed two bottles of sweet wine.
"The kingdom of heaven and peace everlasting to Andrey Grigoritch," said
Kalashnikov, clinking glasses with Merik. "When he was alive we used to
gather together here or at his brother Martin's, and--my word! my word!
what men, what talks! Remarkable conversations! Martin used to be here,
and Filya, and Fyodor Stukotey. . . . It was all done in style, it was
all in keeping. . . . And what fun we had! We did have fun, we did have
fun!"
Lyubka went out and soon afterwards came back wearing a green kerchief
and beads.
"Look, Merik, what Kalashnikov brought me to-day," she said.
She looked at herself in the looking-glass, and tossed her head several
times to make the beads jingle. And then she opened a chest and began
taking out, first, a cotton dress with red and blue flowers on it, and
then a red one with flounces which rustled and crackled like paper, then
a new kerchief, dark blue, shot with many colours--and all these things
she showed and flung up her hands, laughing as though astonished that
she had such treasures.
Kalashnikov tuned the balalaika and began playing it, but Yergunov could
not make out what sort of song he was singing, and whether it was gay or
melancholy, because at one moment it was so mournful he wanted to cry,
and at the next it would be merry. Merik suddenly jumped up and began
tapping with his heels on the same spot, then, brandishing his arms, he
moved on his heels from the table to the stove, from the stove to the
chest, then he bounded up as though he had been stung, clicked the heels
of his boots together in the air, and began going round and round in a
crouching position. Lyubka waved both her arms, uttered a desperate
shriek, and followed him. At first she moved sideways, like a snake, as
though she wanted to steal up to someone and strike him from behind. She
tapped rapidly with her bare heels as Merik had done with the heels of
his boots, then she turned round and round like a top and crouched down,
and her red dress was blown out like a bell. Merik, looking angrily at
her, and showing his teeth in a grin, flew towards her in the same
crouching posture as though he wanted to crush her with his terrible
legs, while she jumped up, flung back her head, and waving her arms as a
big bird does its wings, floated across the room scarcely touching the
floor. . . .
"What a flame of a girl!" thought Yergunov, sitting on the chest, and
from there watching the dance. "What fire! Give up everything for her,
and it would be too little . . . ."
And he regretted that he was a hospital assistant, and not a simple
peasant, that he wore a reefer coat and a chain with a gilt key on it
instead of a blue shirt with a cord tied round the waist. Then he could
boldly have sung, danced, flung both arms round Lyubka as Merik did. . .
.
The sharp tapping, shouts, and whoops set the crockery ringing in the
cupboard and the flame of the candle dancing.
The thread broke and the beads were scattered all over the floor, the
green kerchief slipped off, and Lyubka was transformed into a red cloud
flitting by and flashing black eyes, and it seemed as though in another
second Merik's arms and legs would drop off.
But finally Merik stamped for the last time, and stood still as though
turned to stone. Exhausted and almost breathless, Lyubka sank on to his
bosom and leaned against him as against a post, and he put his arms
round her, and looking into her eyes, said tenderly and caressingly, as
though in jest:
"I'll find out where your old mother's money is hidden, I'll murder her
and cut your little throat for you, and after that I will set fire to
the inn. . . . People will think you have perished in the fire, and with
your money I shall go to Kuban. I'll keep droves of horses and flocks of
sheep. . . ."
Lyubka made no answer, but only looked at him with a guilty air, and
asked:
"And is it nice in Kuban, Merik?"
He said nothing, but went to the chest, sat down, and sank into thought;
most likely he was dreaming of Kuban.
"It's time for me to be going," said Kalashnikov, getting up. "Filya
must be waiting for me. Goodbye, Lyuba."
Yergunov went out into the yard to see that Kalashnikov did not go off
with his horse. The snowstorm still persisted. White clouds were
floating about the yard, their long tails clinging to the rough grass
and the bushes, while on the other side of the fence in the open country
huge giants in white robes with wide sleeves were whirling round and
falling to the ground, and getting up again to wave their arms and
fight. And the wind, the wind! The bare birches and cherry-trees, unable
to endure its rude caresses, bowed low down to the ground and wailed:
"God, for what sin hast Thou bound us to the earth and will not let us
go free?"
"Wo!" said Kalashnikov sternly, and he got on his horse; one half of the
gate was opened, and by it lay a high snowdrift. "Well, get on!" shouted
Kalashnikov. His little short-legged nag set off, and sank up to its
stomach in the drift at once. Kalashnikov was white all over with the
snow, and soon vanished from sight with his horse.
When Yergunov went back into the room, Lyubka was creeping about the
floor picking up her beads; Merik was not there.
"A splendid girl!" thought Yergunov, as he lay down on the bench and put
his coat under his head. "Oh, if only Merik were not here." Lyubka
excited him as she crept about the floor by the bench, and he thought
that if Merik had not been there he would certainly have got up and
embraced her, and then one would see what would happen. It was true she
was only a girl, but not likely to be chaste; and even if she were--need
one stand on ceremony in a den of thieves? Lyubka collected her beads
and went out. The candle burnt down and the flame caught the paper in
the candlestick. Yergunov laid his revolver and matches beside him, and
put out the candle. The light before the holy images flickered so much
that it hurt his eyes, and patches of light danced on the ceiling, on
the floor, and on the cupboard, and among them he had visions of Lyubka,
buxom, full-bosomed: now she was turning round like a top, now she was
exhausted and breathless. . . .
"Oh, if the devils would carry off that Merik," he thought.
The little lamp gave a last flicker, spluttered, and went out. Someone,
it must have been Merik, came into the room and sat down on the bench.
He puffed at his pipe, and for an instant lighted up a dark cheek with a
patch on it. Yergunov's throat was irritated by the horrible fumes of
the tobacco smoke.
"What filthy tobacco you have got--damnation take it!" said Yergunov. "It
makes me positively sick."
"I mix my tobacco with the flowers of the oats," answered Merik after a
pause. "It is better for the chest."
He smoked, spat, and went out again. Half an hour passed, and all at
once there was the gleam of a light in the passage. Merik appeared in a
coat and cap, then Lyubka with a candle in her hand.
"Do stay, Merik," said Lyubka in an imploring voice.
"No, Lyuba, don't keep me."
"Listen, Merik," said Lyubka, and her voice grew soft and tender. "I
know you will find mother's money, and will do for her and for me, and
will go to Kuban and love other girls; but God be with you. I only ask
you one thing, sweetheart: do stay!"
"No, I want some fun . . ." said Merik, fastening his belt.
"But you have nothing to go on. . . . You came on foot; what are you
going on?"
Merik bent down to Lyubka and whispered something in her ear; she looked
towards the door and laughed through her tears.
"He is asleep, the puffed-up devil . . ." she said.
Merik embraced her, kissed her vigorously, and went out. Yergunov thrust
his revolver into his pocket, jumped up, and ran after him.
"Get out of the way!" he said to Lyubka, who hurriedly bolted the door
of the entry and stood across the threshold. "Let me pass! Why are you
standing here?"
"What do you want to go out for?"
"To have a look at my horse."
Lyubka gazed up at him with a sly and caressing look.
"Why look at it? You had better look at me . . . ." she said, then she
bent down and touched with her finger the gilt watch-key that hung on
his chain.
"Let me pass, or he will go off on my horse," said Yergunov. "Let me go,
you devil!" he shouted, and giving her an angry blow on the shoulder, he
pressed his chest against her with all his might to push her away from
the door, but she kept tight hold of the bolt, and was like iron.
"Let me go!" he shouted, exhausted; "he will go off with it, I tell
you."
"Why should he? He won't." Breathing hard and rubbing her shoulder,
which hurt, she looked up at him again, flushed a little and laughed.
"Don't go away, dear heart," she said; "I am dull alone."
Yergunov looked into her eyes, hesitated, and put his arms round her;
she did not resist.
"Come, no nonsense; let me go," he begged her. She did not speak.
"I heard you just now," he said, "telling Merik that you love him."
"I dare say. . . . My heart knows who it is I love."
She put her finger on the key again, and said softly: "Give me that."
Yergunov unfastened the key and gave it to her. She suddenly craned her
neck and listened with a grave face, and her expression struck Yergunov
as cold and cunning; he thought of his horse, and now easily pushed her