The Man Who Was Afraid Part 19

"I wouldn't disturb you. Good-bye!"

When she went past Foma noiselessly, the scent of perfume came to him, and he noticed that her eyes were dark blue, and her eyebrows almost black.

"The sly rogue glided away," said Mayakin in a low voice, angrily looking after her.

"Well, tell us how was the trip? Have you squandered much money?" roared Ignat, pus.h.i.+ng his son into the same armchair where Medinskaya had been sitting awhile before. Foma looked at him askance and seated himself in another chair.

"Isn't she a beautiful young woman, eh?" said Mayakin, smiling, feeling Foma with his cunning eyes. "If you keep on gaping at her she will eat away all your insides."

Foma shuddered for some reason or other, and, saying nothing in reply, began to tell his father about the journey in a matter-of-fact tone. But Ignat interrupted him:

"Wait, I'll ask for some cognac."

"And you are keeping on drinking all the time, they say," said Foma, disapprovingly.

Ignat glanced at his son with surprise and curiosity, and asked:

"Is this the way to speak to your father?"

Foma became confused and lowered his head.

"That's it!" said Ignat, kind-heartedly, and ordered cognac to be brought to him.

Mayakin, winking his eyes, looked at the Gordyeeffs, sighed, bid them good-bye, and, after inviting them to have tea with him in his raspberry garden in the evening, went away.

"Where is Aunt Anfisa?" asked Foma, feeling that now, being alone with his father, he was somewhat ill at ease.

"She went to the cloister. Well, tell me, and I will have some cognac."

Foma told his father all about his affairs in a few minutes and he concluded his story with a frank confession:

"I have spent much money on myself."

"How much?"

"About six hundred roubles."

"In six weeks! That's a good deal. I see as a clerk you're too expensive for me. Where have you squandered it all?"

"I gave away three hundred puds of grain."

"To whom? How?"

Foma told him all about it.

"Hm! Well, that's all right!" Ignat approved. "That's to show what stuff we are made of. That's clear enough--for the father's honour--for the honour of the firm. And there is no loss either, because that gives a good reputation. And that, my dear, is the very best signboard for a business. Well, what else?"

"And then, I somehow spent more."

"Speak frankly. It's not the money that I am asking you about--I just want to know how you lived there," insisted Ignat, regarding his son attentively and sternly.

"I was eating, drinking." Foma did not give in, bending his head morosely and confusedly.

"Drinking vodka?"

"Vodka, too."

"Ah! So. Isn't it rather too soon?"

"Ask Yefim whether I ever drank enough to be intoxicated."

"Why should I ask Yefim? You must tell me everything yourself. So you are drinking? I don't like it."

"But I can get along without drinking."

"Come, come! Do you want some cognac?"

Foma looked at his father and smiled broadly. And his father answered him with a kindly smile:

"Eh, you. Devil! Drink, but look out--know your business. What can you do? A drunkard will sleep himself sober, a fool--never. Let us understand this much at least, for our own consolation. And did you have a good time with girls, too? Be frank! Are you afraid that I will beat you, or what?"

"Yes. There was one on the steamer. I had her there from Perm to Kazan."

"So," Ignat sighed heavily and said, frowning: "You've become defiled rather too soon."

"I am twenty years old. And you yourself told me that in your days fellows married at the age of fifteen," replied Foma, confused.

"Then they married. Very well, then, let us drop the subject.

Well, you've had dealings with a woman. What of it? A woman is like vaccination, you cannot pa.s.s your life without her. As for myself, I cannot play the hypocrite. I began to go around with women when I was younger than you are now. But you must be on your guard with them."

Ignat became pensive and was silent for a long time, sitting motionless, his head bent low on his breast.

"Listen, Foma," he started again, sternly and firmly. "I shall die before long. I am old. Something oppresses my breast. I breathe with difficulty. I'll die. Then all my affairs will fall on your shoulders.

At first your G.o.dfather will a.s.sist you--mind him! You started quite well; you attended to everything properly; you held the reins firmly in your hands. And though you did squander a big sum of money, it is evident that you did not lose your head. G.o.d grant the same in the future. You should know this: business is a living, strong beast; you must manage it ably; you must put a strong bridle on it or it will conquer you. Try to stand above your business. Place yourself so that it will all be under your feet; that each little tack shall be visible to you."

Foma looked at his father's broad chest, heard his heavy voice and thought to himself:

"Oh, but you won't die so soon!"

This thought pleased him and awakened in him a kind, warm feeling for his father.

"Rely upon your G.o.dfather. He has enough common sense in his head to supply the whole town with it. All he lacks is courage, or he would have risen high. Yes, I tell you my days on earth are numbered. Indeed, it is high time to prepare myself for death; to cast everything aside; to fast, and see to it that people bear me good-will."

"They will!" said Foma with confidence.

"If there were but a reason why they should."

"And the lodging-house?"