A Reckless Character, and Other Stories Part 40

May, 1879.

TO-MORROW! TO-MORROW!

How empty, and insipid, and insignificant is almost every day which we have lived through! How few traces it leaves behind it! In what a thoughtlessly-stupid manner have those hours flown past, one after another!

And, nevertheless, man desires to exist; he prizes life, he hopes in it, in himself, in the future.... Oh, what blessings he expects from the future!

And why does he imagine that other future days will not resemble the one which has just pa.s.sed?

But he does not imagine this. On the whole, he is not fond of thinking--and it is well that he does not.

"There, now, to-morrow, to-morrow!" he comforts himself--until that "to-morrow" over-throws him into the grave.

Well--and once in the grave,--one ceases, w.i.l.l.y-nilly, to think.

May, 1879.

NATURE

I dreamed that I had entered a vast subterranean chamber with a lofty, arched roof. It was completely filled by some sort of even light, also subterranean.

In the very centre of the chamber sat a majestic woman in a flowing robe green in hue. With her head bowed on her hand, she seemed to be immersed in profound meditation.

I immediately understood that this woman was Nature itself,--and reverent awe pierced my soul with an instantaneous chill.

I approached the seated woman, and making a respectful obeisance, "O our common mother," I exclaimed, "what is the subject of thy meditation? Art thou pondering the future destinies of mankind? As to how it is to attain the utmost possible perfection and bliss?"

The woman slowly turned her dark, lowering eyes upon me. Her lips moved, and a stentorian voice, like unto the clanging of iron, rang out:

"I am thinking how I may impart more power to the muscles in the legs of a flea, so that it may more readily escape from its enemies. The equilibrium of attack and defence has been destroyed.... It must be restored."

"What!" I stammered, in reply.--"So that is what thou art thinking about? But are not we men thy favourite children?"

The woman knit her brows almost imperceptibly.--"All creatures are my children," she said, "and I look after all of them alike,--and I annihilate them in identically the same way."

"But good ... reason ... justice...." I stammered again.

"Those are the words of men," rang out the iron voice. "I know neither good nor evil.... Reason is no law to me--and what is justice?--I have given thee life,--I take it away and give it to others; whether worms or men ... it makes no difference to me.... But in the meantime, do thou defend thyself, and hinder me not!"

I was about to answer ... but the earth round about me uttered a dull groan and trembled--and I awoke.

August, 1879.

"HANG HIM!"

"It happened in the year 1803," began my old friend, "not long before Austerlitz. The regiment of which I was an officer was quartered in Moravia.

"We were strictly forbidden to harry and oppress the inhabitants; and they looked askance on us as it was, although we were regarded as allies.

"I had an orderly, a former serf of my mother's, Egor by name. He was an honest and peaceable fellow; I had known him from his childhood and treated him like a friend.

"One day, in the house where I dwelt, abusive shrieks and howls arose: the housewife had been robbed of two hens, and she accused my orderly of the theft. He denied it, and called upon me to bear witness whether 'he, Egor Avtamonoff, would steal!' I a.s.sured the housewife of Egor's honesty, but she would listen to nothing.

"Suddenly the energetic trampling of horses' hoofs resounded along the street: it was the Commander-in-Chief himself riding by with his staff.

He was proceeding at a foot-pace,--a fat, pot-bellied man, with drooping head and epaulets dangling on his breast.

"The housewife caught sight of him, and flinging herself across his horse's path, she fell on her knees and, all distraught, with head uncovered, began loudly to complain of my orderly, pointing to him with her hand:

"'Sir General!' she shrieked. 'Your Radiance! Judge! Help! Save! This soldier has robbed me!'

"Egor was standing on the threshold of the house, drawn up in military salute, with his cap in his hand,--and had even protruded his breast and turned out his feet, like a sentry,--and not a word did he utter!

Whether he was daunted by all that ma.s.s of generals halting there in the middle of the street, or whether he was petrified in the presence of the calamity which had overtaken him,--at any rate, there stood my Egor blinking his eyes, and white as clay!

"The Commander-in-Chief cast an abstracted and surly glance at him, bellowing wrathfully: 'Well, what hast thou to say?'.... Egor stood like a statue and showed his teeth! If looked at in profile, it was exactly as though the man were laughing.

"Then the Commander-in-Chief said abruptly: 'Hang him!'--gave his horse a dig in the ribs and rode on, first at a foot-pace, as before, then at a brisk trot. The whole staff dashed after him; only one adjutant, turning round in his saddle, took a close look at Egor.

"It was impossible to disobey.... Egor was instantly seized and led to execution.

"Thereupon he turned deadly pale, and only exclaimed a couple of times, with difficulty, 'Good heavens! Good heavens!'--and then, in a low voice--'G.o.d sees it was not I!'

"He wept bitterly, very bitterly, as he bade me farewell. I was in despair.--'Egor! Egor!' I cried, 'why didst thou say nothing to the general?'

"'G.o.d sees it was not I,' repeated the poor fellow, sobbing.--The housewife herself was horrified. She had not in the least expected such a dreadful verdict, and fell to shrieking in her turn. She began to entreat each and all to spare him, she declared that her hens had been found, that she was prepared to explain everything herself....

"Of course, this was of no use whatsoever. Military regulations, sir!

Discipline!--The housewife sobbed more and more loudly.

"Egor, whom the priest had already confessed and communicated, turned to me:

"'Tell her, Your Well-Born, that she must not do herself an injury....

For I have already forgiven her.'"

As my friend repeated these last words of his servant, he whispered: "Egorushka[76] darling, just man!"--and the tears dripped down his aged cheeks.

August, 1879.