Short Stories
"My dear sir! I am in alarm, I am in terror, help me."
"Hush!"
"There really is a noise, my love; there's a regular hubbub. And just over
your bedroom, too. Hadn't I better send up to inquire?"
"Well, what will you think of next?"
"Oh, well, I won't; but really, how cross you are to-day!..."
"Oh, dear, you had better go to bed."
"Liza, you don't love me at all."
"Oh, yes, I do! For goodness' sake, I am so tired."
"Well, well; I am going!"
"Oh, no, no; don't go!" cried his wife; "or, no, better go!"
"Why, what is the matter with you! One minute I am to go, and the next I'm
not! Khee-khee! It really is bedtime, khee-khee! The Panafidins' little
girl ... khee-khee ... their little girl ... khee ... I saw their little
girl's Nuremburg doll ... khee-khee...."
"Well, now it's dolls!"
"Khee-khee ... a pretty doll ... khee-khee."
"He is saying good-bye," said the young man; "he is going, and we can get
away at once. Do you hear? You can rejoice!"
"Oh, God grant it!"
"It's a lesson to you...."
"Young man, a lesson for what!... I feel it ... but you are young, you
cannot teach me."
"I will, though.... Listen."
"Oh, dear, I am going to sneeze!..."
"Hush, if you dare."
"But what can I do, there is such a smell of mice here; I can't help it.
Take my handkerchief cut of my pocket; I can't stir.... Oh, my God, my God,
why am I so punished?"
"Here's your handkerchief! I will tell you what you are punished for. You
are jealous. Goodness knows on what grounds, you rush about like a madman,
burst into other people's flats, create a disturbance...."
"Young man, I have not created a disturbance."
"Hush!"
"Young man, you can't lecture to me about morals, I am more moral than
you."
"Hush!"
"Oh, my God--oh, my God!"
"You create a disturbance, you frighten a young lady, a timid woman who
does not know what to do for terror, and perhaps will be ill; you disturb a
venerable old man suffering from a complaint and who needs repose above
everything--and all this what for? Because you imagine some nonsense which
sets you running all over the neighbourhood! Do you understand what a
horrid position you are in now?"
"I do very well, sir! I feel it, but you have not the right...."
"Hold your tongue! What has right got to do with it? Do you understand that
this may have a tragic ending? Do you understand that the old man, who is
fond of his wife, may go out of his mind when he sees you creep out from
under the bed? But no, you are incapable of causing a tragedy! When you
crawl out, I expect every one who looks at you will laugh. I should like to
see you in the light; you must look very funny."
"And you. You must be funny, too, in that case. I should like to have a
look at you too."
"I dare say you would!"
"You must carry the stamp of immorality, young man."
"Ah! you are talking about morals, how do you know why I'm here? I am here
by mistake, I made a mistake in the storey. And the deuce knows why they
let me in, I suppose she must have been expecting some one (not you, of
course). I hid under the bed when I heard your stupid footsteps, when I saw
the lady was frightened. Besides, it was dark. And why should I justify
myself to you. You are a ridiculous, jealous old man, sir. Do you know why
I don't crawl out? Perhaps you imagine I am afraid to come out? No, sir, I
should have come out long ago, but I stay here from compassion for you.
Why, what would you be taken for, if I were not here? You'd stand facing
them, like a post, you know you wouldn't know what to do...."
"Why like that object? Couldn't you find anything else to compare me with,
young man? Why shouldn't I know what to do? I should know what to do."
"Oh, my goodness, how that wretched dog keeps barking!"
"Hush! Oh, it really is.... That's because you keep jabbering. You've waked
the dog, now there will be trouble."
The lady's dog, who had till then been sleeping on a pillow in the corner,
suddenly awoke, sniffed strangers and rushed under the bed with a loud
bark.
"Oh, my God, what a stupid dog!" whispered Ivan Andreyitch; "it will get us
all into trouble. Here's another affliction!"
"Oh, well, you are such a coward, that it may well be so."
"Ami, Ami, come here," cried the lady; "_ici, ici_." But the dog, without
heeding her, made straight for Ivan Andreyitch.
"Why is it Amishka keeps barking?" said the old gentleman. "There must be
mice or the cat under there. I seem to hear a sneezing ... and pussy had a
cold this morning."
"Lie still," whispered the young man. "Don't twist about! Perhaps it will
leave off."
"Sir, let go of my hands, sir! Why are you holding them?"
"Hush! Be quiet!"
"But mercy on us, young man, it will bite my nose. Do you want me to lose
my nose?"
A struggle followed, and Ivan Andreyitch got his hands free. The dog broke
into volleys of barking. Suddenly it ceased barking and gave a yelp.
"_Aïe!_" cried the lady.
"Monster! what are you doing?" cried the young man. "You will be the ruin
of us both! Why are you holding it? Good heavens, he is strangling it! Let
it go! Monster! You know nothing of the heart of women if you can do that!
She will betray us both if you strangle the dog."
But by now Ivan Andreyitch could hear nothing. He had succeeded in catching
the dog, and in a paroxysm of self-preservation had squeezed its throat.
The dog yelled and gave up the ghost.
"We are lost!" whispered the young man.
"Amishka! Amishka," cried the lady. "My God, what are they doing with my
Amishka? Amishka! Amishka! _Ici!_ Oh, the monsters! Barbarians! Oh, dear, I
feel giddy!"
"What is it, what is it?" cried the old gentleman, jumping up from his easy
chair. "What is the matter with you, my darling? Amishka! here, Amishka!
Amishka! Amishka!" cried the old gentleman, snapping with his fingers and
clicking with his tongue, and calling Amishka from under the bed. "Amishka,
_ici, ici_. The cat cannot have eaten him. The cat wants a thrashing, my
love, he hasn't had a beating for a whole month, the rogue. What do you
think? I'll talk to Praskovya Zaharyevna. But, my goodness, what is the
matter, my love? Oh, how white you are! Oh, oh, servants, servants!" and
the old gentleman ran about the room.
"Villains! Monsters!" cried the lady, sinking on the sofa.
"Who, who, who?" cried the old gentleman.
"There are people there, strangers, there under the bed! Oh, my God,
Amishka, Amishka, what have they done to you?"
"Good heavens, what people? Amishka.... Servants, servants, come here! Who
is there, who is there?" cried the old gentleman, snatching up a candle and
bending down under the bed. "Who is there?"
Ivan Andreyitch was lying more dead than alive beside the breathless corpse
of Amishka, but the young man was watching every movement of the old
gentleman. All at once the old gentleman went to the other side of the bed
by the wall and bent down. In a flash the young man crept out from under
the bed and took to his heels, while the husband was looking for his
visitors on the other side.
"Good gracious!" exclaimed the lady, staring at the young man. "Who are
you? Why, I thought...."
"That monster's still there," whispered the young man. "He is guilty of
Amishka's death!"
"_Aïe!_" shrieked the lady, but the young man had already vanished from the
room.
"_Aïe!_ There is some one here. Here are somebody's boots!" cried the
husband, catching Ivan Andreyitch by the leg.
"Murderer, murderer!" cried the lady. "Oh, Ami! Ami!"
"Come out, come out!" cried the old gentleman, stamping on the carpet with
both feet; "come out. Who are you? Tell me who you are! Good gracious, what
a queer person!"
"Why, it's robbers!..."
"For God's sake, for God's sake," cried Ivan Andreyitch creeping out, "for
God's sake, your Excellency, don't call the servants! Your Excellency,
don't call any one. It is quite unnecessary. You can't kick me out!... I am
not that sort of person. I am a different case. Your Excellency, it has all
been due to a mistake! I'll explain directly, your Excellency," exclaimed
Ivan Andreyitch, sobbing and gasping. "It's all my wife that is not my
wife, but somebody else's wife. I am not married, I am only.... It's my
comrade, a friend of youthful days."
"What friend of youthful days?" cried the old gentleman, stamping. "You are
a thief, you have come to steal ... and not a friend of youthful days."
"No, I am not a thief, your Excellency; I am really a friend of youthful
days.... I have only blundered by accident, I came into the wrong place."
"Yes, sir, yes; I see from what place you've crawled out."
"Your Excellency! I am not that sort of man. You are mistaken. I tell you,
you are cruelly mistaken, your Excellency. Only glance at me, look at me,
and by signs and tokens you will see that I can't be a thief. Your
Excellency! Your Excellency!" cried Ivan Andreyitch, folding his hands and
appealing to the young lady. "You are a lady, you will understand me....
It was I who killed Amishka.... But it was not my fault.... It was really
not my fault.... It was all my wife's fault. I am an unhappy man, I am
drinking the cup of bitterness!"
"But really, what has it to do with me that you are drinking the cup of
bitterness? Perhaps it's not the only cup you've drunk. It seems so, to
judge from your condition. But how did you come here, sir?" cried the old
gentleman, quivering with excitement, though he certainly was convinced by
certain signs and tokens that Ivan Andreyitch could not be a thief. "I ask
you: how did you come here? You break in like a robber...."
"Not a robber, your Excellency. I simply came to the wrong place; I am
really not a robber! It is all because I was jealous. I will tell you all
about it, your Excellency, I will confess it all frankly, as I would to my
own father; for at your venerable age I might take you for a father."
"What do you mean by venerable age?"
"Your Excellency! Perhaps I have offended you? Of course such a young
lady ... and your age ... it is a pleasant sight, your Excellency, it
really is a pleasant sight such a union ... in the prime of life.... But
don't call the servants, for God's sake, don't call the servants ...
servants would only laugh.... I know them ... that is, I don't mean that
I am only acquainted with footmen, I have a footman of my own, your
Excellency, and they are always laughing ... the asses! Your Highness ...
I believe I am not mistaken, I am addressing a prince...."
"No, I am not a prince, sir, I am an independent gentleman.... Please do
not flatter me with your 'Highness.' How did you get here, sir? How did you
get here?"
"Your Highness, that is, your Excellency.... Excuse me, I thought that you
were your Highness. I looked ... I imagined ... it does happen. You are so
like Prince Korotkouhov whom I have had the honour of meeting at my friend
Mr. Pusyrev's.... You see, I am acquainted with princes, too, I have met
princes, too, at the houses of my friends; you cannot take me for what you
take me for. I am not a thief. Your Excellency, don't call the servants;
what will be the good of it if you do call them?"
"But how did you come here?" cried the lady. "Who are you?"
"Yes, who are you?" the husband chimed in. "And, my love, I thought it was
pussy under the bed sneezing. And it was he. Ah, you vagabond! Who are you?
Tell me!"
And the old gentleman stamped on the carpet again.
"I cannot speak, your Excellency, I am waiting till you are finished, I am
enjoying your witty jokes. As regards me, it is an absurd story, your
Excellency; I will tell you all about it. It can all be explained without
more ado, that is, I mean, don't call the servants, your Excellency! Treat
me in a gentlemanly way.... It means nothing that I was under the bed, I