them as a bedroom. Akim was
snoring immediately. It was a long time before Avdotya could get to
sleep…. At first she lay still, turning her face to the wall, then
she began tossing from side to side on the hot feather bed, throwing
off and pulling up the quilt alternately … then she sank into a light
doze. Suddenly she heard from the yard a loud masculine voice: it was
singing a song of which it was impossible to distinguish the words,
prolonging each note, though not with a melancholy effect. Avdotya
opened her eyes, propped herself on her elbows and listened…. The
song went on…. It rang out musically in the autumn air.
Akim raised his head.
«Who’s that singing?» he asked.
«I don’t know,» she answered.
«He sings well,» he added, after a brief pause. «Very well. What a
strong voice. I used to sing in my day,» he went on. «And I sang well,
too, but my voice has gone. That’s a fine voice. It must be that young
fellow singing, Naum is his name, isn’t it?» And he turned over on the
other side, gave a sigh and fell asleep again.
It was a long time before the voice was still … Avdotya listened and
listened; all at once it seemed to break off, rang out boldly once
more and slowly died away…. Avdotya crossed herself and laid her
head on the pillow…. Half an hour passed…. She sat up and softly
got out of bed.
«Where are you going, wife?» Akim asked in his sleep.
She stopped.
«To see to the little lamp,» she said, «I can’t get to sleep.»
«You should say a prayer,» Akim mumbled, falling asleep.
Avdotya went up to the lamp before the ikon, began trimming it and
accidentally put it out; she went back and lay down. Everything was
still.
Early next morning the merchant set off again on his journey with his
companions. Avdotya was asleep. Akim went half a mile with them: he
had to call at the mill. When he got home he found his wife dressed
and not alone. Naum, the young man who had been there the night
before, was with her. They were standing by the table in the window
talking. When Avdotya saw Akim, she went out of the room without a
word, and Naum said that he had come for his master’s gloves which the
latter, he said, had left behind on the bench; and he, too, went away.
We will now tell the reader what he has probably guessed already:
Avdotya had fallen passionately in love with Naum. It is hard to say
how it could have happened so quickly, especially as she had hitherto
been irreproachable in her behaviour in spite of many opportunities
and temptations to deceive her husband. Later on, when her intrigue
with Naum became known, many people in the neighbourhood declared that
he had on the very first evening put a magic potion that was a love
spell in her tea (the efficacy of such spells is still firmly believed
in among us), and that this could be clearly seen from the appearance
of Avdotya who, so they said, soon after began to pine away and look
depressed.
However that may have been, Naum began to be frequently seen in Akim’s
yard. At first he came again with the same merchant and three months
later arrived alone, with wares of his own; then the report spread
that he had settled in one of the neighbouring district towns, and
from that time forward not a week passed without his appearing on the
high road with his strong, painted cart drawn by two sleek horses
which he drove himself. There was no particular friendship between
Akim and him, nor was there any hostility noticed between them; Akim
did not take much notice of him and only thought of him as a sharp
young fellow who was rapidly making his way in the world. He did not
suspect Avdotya’s real feelings and went on believing in her as
before.
Two years passed like this.
One summer day it happened that Lizaveta Prohorovna—who had somehow
suddenly grown yellow and wrinkled during those two years in spite of
all sorts of unguents, rouge and powder—about two o’clock in the
afternoon went out with her lap dog and her folding parasol for a
stroll before dinner in her neat little German garden. With a faint
rustle of her starched petticoats, she walked with tiny steps along
the sandy path between two rows of erect, stiffly tied-up dahlias,
when she was suddenly overtaken by our old acquaintance Kirillovna,
who announced respectfully that a merchant desired to speak to her on
important business. Kirillovna was still high in her mistress’s favour
(in reality it was she who managed Madame Kuntse’s estate) and she had
some time before obtained permission to wear a white cap, which gave
still more acerbity to the sharp features of her swarthy face.
«A merchant?» said her mistress; «what does he want?»
«I don’t know what he wants,» answered Kirillovna in an insinuating
voice, «only I think he wants to buy something from you.»
Lizaveta Prohorovna went back into the drawing-room, sat down in her
usual seat—an armchair with a canopy over it, upon which a climbing
plant twined gracefully—and gave orders that the merchant should be
summoned.
Naum appeared, bowed, and stood still by the door.
«I hear that you want to buy something of me,» said Lizaveta
Prohorovna, and thought to herself, «What a handsome man this merchant
is.»
«Just so, madam.»
«What is it?»
«Would you be willing to sell your inn?»
«What inn?»
«Why, the one on the high road not far from here.»
«But that inn is not mine, it is Akim’s.»
«Not yours? Why, it stands on your land.»
«Yes, the land is mine … bought in my name; but the inn is his.»
«To be sure. But wouldn’t you be willing to sell it to me?»
«How could I sell it to you?»
«Well, I would give you a good price for it.»
Lizaveta Prohorovna was silent for a space.
«It is really very queer what you are saying,» she said. «And what
would you give?» she added. «I don’t ask that for myself but for
Akim.»
«For all the buildings and the appurtenances, together with the land
that goes with it, of course, I would give two thousand roubles.»
«Two thousand roubles! That is not enough,» replied Lizaveta
Prohorovna.
«It’s a good price.»
«But have you spoken to Akim?»
«What should I speak to him for? The inn is yours, so here I am
talking to you about it.»
«But I have told you…. It really is astonishing that you don’t
understand me.»
«Not understand, madam? But I do understand.»
Lizaveta Prohorovna looked at Naum and Naum looked at Lizaveta
Prohorovna.
«Well, then,» he began, «what do you propose?»
«I propose…» Lizaveta Prohorovna moved in her chair. «In the first
place I tell you that two thousand is too little and in the second…»
«I’ll add another hundred, then.»
Lizaveta Prohorovna got up.
«I see that you are talking quite off the point. I have told you
already that I cannot sell that inn—am not going to sell it. I
cannot … that is, I will not.»
Naum smiled and said nothing for a space.
«Well, as you please, madam,» he said, shrugging his shoulders. «I beg
to take leave.» He bowed and took hold of the door handle.
Lizaveta Prohorovna turned round to him.
«You need not go away yet, however,» she said, with hardly perceptible
agitation. She rang the bell and Kirillovna came in from the study.
«Kirillovna, tell them to give this gentleman some tea. I will see you
again,» she added, with a slight inclination of her head.
Naum bowed again and went out with Kirillovna. Lizaveta Prohorovna
walked up and down the room once or twice and rang the bell again.
This time a page appeared. She told him to fetch Kirillovna. A few
moments later Kirillovna came in with a faint creak of her new
goatskin shoes.
«Have you heard,» Lizaveta Prohorovna began with a forced laugh, «what
this merchant has been proposing to me? He is a queer fellow, really!»
«No, I haven’t heard. What is it, madam?» and Kirillovna faintly
screwed up her black Kalmuck eyes.
«He wants to buy Akim’s inn.»
«Well, why not?»
«But how could he? What about Akim? I gave it to Akim.»
«Upon my word, madam, what are you saying? Isn’t the inn yours? Don’t
we all belong to you? And isn’t all our property yours, our
mistress’s?»
«Good gracious, Kirillovna, what are you saying?» Lizaveta Prohorovna
pulled out a batiste handkerchief and nervously blew her nose. «Akim
bought the inn with his own money.»
«His own money? But where did he get the money? Wasn’t it through your
kindness? He has had the use of the land all this time as it is. It
was all through your gracious permission. And do you suppose, madam,
that he would have no money left? Why, he is richer than you are, upon
my word, he is!»
«That’s all true, of course, but still I can’t do it…. How could I
sell the inn?»
«And why not sell it,» Kirillovna went on, «since a purchaser has
luckily turned up? May I ask, madam, how much he offers you?»
«More than two thousand roubles,» said Lizaveta Prohorovna softly.
«He will give more, madam, if he offers two thousand straight off. And
you will arrange things with Akim afterwards; take a little off his
yearly duty or something. He will be thankful, too.»
«Of course, I must remit part of his duty. But no, Kirillovna, how can
I sell it?» and Lizaveta Prohorovna walked up and down the room. «No,
that’s out of the question, that won’t do … no, please don’t speak
of it again … or I shall be angry.»
But in spite of her agitated mistress’s warning, Kirillovna did
continue speaking of it and half an hour later she went back to Naum,
whom she had left in the butler’s pantry at the samovar.
«What have you to tell me, good madam?» said Naum, jauntily turning
his tea-cup wrong side upwards in the saucer.
«What I have to tell you is that you are to go in to the mistress; she
wants you.»
«Certainly,» said Naum, and he got up and followed Kirillovna into the
drawing-room.
The door closed behind them…. When the door opened again and Naum
walked out backwards, bowing, the matter
