‘Because he’s a rogue. You know that I esteemed him, that I trusted him as a friend… I and you too - in general everybody considered him an honest, respectable man who was incapable of cheating. Meanwhile he has been robbing, plundering me! Taking advantage of his position of bailiff, he has dealt with my property as he liked. The only things he didn’t take were those that couldn’t be moved from their places.’
I, who knew Urbenin to be a man in the highest degree honest and disinterested, jumped up as if I had been stung when I heard these words spoken by the Count, and went up to him.
‘Have you caught him in the act of stealing?’ I asked.
‘No, but I know of his thievish tricks from trustworthy sources.’
‘May I ask from what sources?’
‘You needn’t be uneasy. I would not accuse a man without cause. Olga has told me all about him. Even before she became his wife she saw with her own eyes what loads of slaughtered fowls and geese he sent to town. She saw how my geese and fowls were sent as presents to a certain benefactor where his son, the schoolboy, lodged. More than that, she saw flour, millet and lard being dispatched there. Admitted that all these are trifles, but did these trifles belong to him? Here we have not a question of value but of principle. Principles were trespassed against. There’s more, sir! She saw in his cupboard a whole cache of money. When she asked him whose money it was and where he had got it, he begged her not to mention to anybody that he had money. My dear fellow, you know he’s as poor as a church mouse! His salary is scarcely sufficient for his board. Can you explain to me where this money came from?’
‘And you, stupid fool, believe this little vermin?’ I cried, stirred to the depths of my soul. ‘She is not satisfied with having run away from him and disgraced him in the eyes of the whole district. She must now betray him! What an amount of meanness is contained in that small and fragile body! Fowls, geese, millet… Master, master! You, with your political economy and your agricultural stupidity, are offended that he should have sent a present at holiday-time of a slaughtered bird which the foxes or polecats would have eaten, if it hadn’t been killed and given away, but have you once checked the huge accounts that Urbenin has handed in? Have you ever counted up the thousands and the tens of thousands? No? Then what is the use of talking to you? You are stupid and a beast. You would be glad to incriminate the husband of your mistress, but you don’t know how!’
‘My connection with Olga has nothing to do with the matter. Whether or not he’s her husband is all one, but since he has robbed me, I must be plain, and call him a thief. But let us leave this roguery alone. Tell me, is it honest or dishonest to receive a salary and for whole days to lie about dead drunk? He is drunk every day. There wasn’t a single day that I did not see him reeling about! Low and disgusting! Decent people don’t act in that way.’
‘It’s just because he’s decent that he gets drunk,’ I said.
‘You have a kind of passion for taking the part of such gentlemen. But I have decided to be unmerciful. I paid him off today and told him to clear out and make room for another. My patience is exhausted!’
I considered it unnecessary to try to convince the Count that he was unjust, impractical and stupid. It was not for me to defend Urbenin against the Count.
Five days later I heard that Urbenin with his schoolboy son and his little daughter had gone to live in the town. I was told that he drove to town drunk, half-dead, and that he had twice fallen out of the cart. The schoolboy and Sasha had cried all the way.
CHAPTER XX
Shortly after Urbenin had left, I was obliged to go to the Count’s estate, quite against my will. One of the Count’s stables had been broken into at night and several valuable saddles had been carried off by the thieves. The examining magistrate, that is I, had been informed and nolens-volens, I was obliged to go there.
I found the Count drunk and angry. He was wandering about the rooms seeking a refuge from his melancholy but could not find one.
I am worried by that Olga!’ he said waving his hand. ‘She got angry with me this morning and she left the house threatening to drown herself! And, as you see, there are no signs of her yet. I know she won’t drown herself. Still, it is very unpleasant of her. Yesterday, all day long, she was rubbing her eyes and breaking crockery; the day before she over-ate herself with chocolate. The devil only knows what such natures are!’
I comforted the Count as well as I could and sat down to dinner with him.
‘No, it’s time to give up such childishness,’ he kept mumbling during dinner, it’s high time, for it is all stupid and ridiculous. Besides, I must also confess she is beginning to bore me with her sudden changes and tantrums. I want something quiet, orderly, modest, you know — something like Nadenka Kalinin… a splendid girl!’
After dinner when I was walking in the garden I met the ‘drowned girl’. When she saw me she became very red and (strange woman) she began to laugh with joy. The shame on her face was mingled with pleasure, sorrow with happiness. For a moment she looked at me askance, then she rushed towards me and hung on my neck without saying a word.
‘I love you!’ she whispered, clinging to my neck. ‘I have been so sad without you. I should have died if you had not come.’
I embraced her and silently led her to one of the summer-houses.
Ten minutes later when parting from her, I took out of my pocket a twenty-five-rouble note and handed it to her. She opened her eyes wide.
‘What is that for?’
‘I am paying you for today’s love.’
Olga did not understand and continued to look at me with astonishment.
‘You see, there are women who make love for money,’ I explained. ‘They are venal. They must be paid for with money. Take it! If you take money from others, why don’t you want to take anything from me? I wish for no favours!’
Olga did not understand my cynicism in insulting her in this way. She did not know life as yet, and she did not understand the meaning of ‘venal women’.
CHAPTER XXI
It was a fine August day.
The sun warmed as in summer, and the blue sky fondly enticed you to wander far afield, but the air already bore presages of autumn. In the green foliage of the pensive forest the worn-out leaves were already assuming golden tints and the darkening fields looked melancholy and sad.
A dull presentiment of inevitable autumn weighed heavily on us all. It was not difficult to foresee the nearness of a catastrophe. The roll of thunder and the rain must soon come to refresh the sultry atmosphere. It is sultry before a thunderstorm when dark leaden clouds approach in the sky, and moral sultriness was oppressing us all. It was apparent in everything - in our movements, in our smiles, in our speech.
I was driving in a light wagonette. The daughter of the Justice of the Peace, Nadenka, was sitting beside me. She was white as snow, her chin and lips trembled as they do before tears, her deep eyes were full of sorrow, while all the time she laughed and tried to appear very gay.
In front and behind us a number of vehicles of all sorts, of all ages and all sizes were moving in the same direction. Ladies and men on horseback were riding on either side. Count Karnéev, clad in a green shooting costume that looked more like a buffoon’s than a sportsman’s, bending slightly forward and to one side, galloped about relentlessly on his black horse. Looking at his bent body and at the expression of pain that constantly appeared on his lean face, one could have thought that he was riding