The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (easy to read books for adults list .txt) 📕

reconciled them with Ilusha, it was really the fact. All the art he

had used had been to take them, one by one, to Ilusha, without

“sheepish sentimentality,” appearing to do so casually and without

design. It was a great consolation to Ilusha in his suffering. He

was greatly touched by seeing the almost tender affection and sympathy

shown him by these boys, who had been his enemies. Krassotkin was

the only one missing and his absence was a heavy load on Ilusha’s

heart. Perhaps the bitterest of all his bitter memories was his

stabbing Krassotkin, who had been his one friend and protector. Clever

little Smurov, who was the first to make it up with Ilusha, thought it

was so. But when Smurov hinted to Krassotkin that Alyosha wanted to

come and see him about something, the latter cut him short, bidding

Smurov tell “Karamazov” at once that he knew best what to do, that

he wanted no one’s advice, and that, if he went to see Ilusha, he

would choose his own time for he had “his own reasons.”

That was a fortnight before this Sunday. That was why Alyosha

had not been to see him, as he had meant to. But though he waited he

sent Smurov to him twice again. Both times Krassotkin met him with a

curt, impatient refusal, sending Alyosha a message not to bother him

any more, that if he came himself, he, Krassotkin, would not go to

Ilusha at all. Up to the very last day, Smurov did not know that Kolya

meant to go to Ilusha that morning, and only the evening before, as he

parted from Smurov, Kolya abruptly told him to wait at home for him

next morning, for he would go with him to the Snegiryovs, but warned

him on no account to say he was coming, as he wanted to drop in

casually. Smurov obeyed. Smurov’s fancy that Kolya would bring back

the lost dog was based on the words Kolya had dropped that “they

must be asses not to find the dog, if it was alive.” When Smurov,

waiting for an opportunity, timidly hinted at his guess about the dog,

Krassotkin flew into a violent rage. “I’m not such an ass as to go

hunting about the town for other people’s dogs when I’ve got a dog

of my own! And how can you imagine a dog could be alive after

swallowing a pin? Sheepish sentimentality, thats what it is!

For the last fortnight Ilusha had not left his little bed under

the ikons in the corner. He had not been to school since the day he

met Alyosha and bit his finger. He was taken ill the same day,

though for a month afterwards he was sometimes able to get up and walk

about the room and passage. But latterly he had become so weak that he

could not move without help from his father. His father was terribly

concerned about him. He even gave up drinking and was almost crazy

with terror that his boy would die. And often, especially after

leading him round the room on his arm and putting him back to bed,

he would run to a dark corner in the passage and, leaning his head

against the wall, he would break into paroxysms of violent weeping,

stifling his sobs that they might not be heard by Ilusha.

Returning to the room, he would usually begin doing something to

amuse and comfort his precious boy: he would tell him stories, funny

anecdotes, or would mimic comic people he had happened to meet, even

imitate the howls and cries of animals. But Ilusha could not bear to

see his father fooling and playing the buffoon. Though the boy tried

not to show how he disliked it, he saw with an aching heart that his

father was an object of contempt, and he was continually haunted by

the memory of the “wisp of tow” and that “terrible day.”

Nina, Ilusha’s gentle, crippled sister, did not like her

father’s buffoonery either (Varvara had been gone for some time past

to Petersburg to study at the university). But the half-imbecile

mother was greatly diverted and laughed heartily when her husband

began capering about or performing something. It was the only way

she could be amused; all the rest of the time she was grumbling and

complaining that now everyone had forgotten her, that no one treated

her with respect, that she was slighted, and so on. But during the

last few days she had completely changed. She began looking constantly

at Ilusha’s bed in the corner and seemed lost in thought. She was more

silent, quieter, and, if she cried, she cried quietly so as not to

be heard. The captain noticed the change in her with mournful

perplexity. The boys’ visits at first only angered her, but later on

their merry shouts and stories began to divert her, and at last she

liked them so much that, if the boys had given up coming, she would

have felt dreary without them. When the children told some story or

played a game, she laughed and clapped her hands. She called some of

them to her and kissed them. She was particularly fond of Smurov.

As for the captain, the presence in his room of the children,

who came to cheer up Ilusha, filled his heart from the first with

ecstatic joy. He even hoped that Ilusha would now get over his

depression and that that would hasten his recovery. In spite of his

alarm about Ilusha, he had not, till lately, felt one minute’s doubt

of his boy’s ultimate recovery.

He met his little visitors with homage, waited upon them hand

and foot; he was ready to be their horse and even began letting them

ride on his back, but Ilusha did not like the game and it was given

up. He began buying little things for them, gingerbread and nuts, gave

them tea and cut them sandwiches. It must be noted that all this

time he had plenty of money. He had taken the two hundred roubles from

Katerina Ivanovna just as Alyosha had predicted he would. And

afterwards Katerina Ivanovna, learning more about their

circumstances and Ilusha’s illness, visited them herself, made the

acquaintance of the family, and succeeded in fascinating the

half-imbecile mother. Since then she had been lavish in helping

them, and the captain, terror-stricken at the thought that his boy

might be dying, forgot his pride and humbly accepted her assistance.

All this time Doctor Herzenstube, who was called in by Katerina

Ivanovna, came punctually every other day, but little was gained by

his visits and he dosed the invalid mercilessly. But on that Sunday

morning a new doctor was expected, who had come from Moscow, where

he had a great reputation. Katerina Ivanovna had sent for him from

Moscow at great expense, not expressly for Ilusha, but for another

object of which more will be said in its place hereafter. But, as he

had come, she had asked him to see Ilusha as well, and the captain had

been told to expect him. He hadn’t the slightest idea that Kolya

Krassotkin was coming, though he had long wished for a visit from

the boy for whom Ilusha was fretting.

At the moment when Krassotkin opened the door and came into the

room, the captain and all the boys were round Ilusha’s bed, looking at

a tiny mastiff pup, which had only been born the day before, though

the captain had bespoken it a week ago to comfort and amuse Ilusha,

who was still fretting over the lost and probably dead Zhutchka.

Ilusha, who had heard three days before that he was to be presented

with a puppy, not an ordinary puppy, but a pedigree mastiff (a very

important point, of course), tried from delicacy of feeling to pretend

that he was pleased. But his father and the boys could not help seeing

that the puppy only served to recall to his little heart the thought

of the unhappy dog he had killed. The puppy lay beside him feebly

moving and he, smiling sadly, stroked it with his thin, pale, wasted

hand. Clearly he liked the puppy, but… it wasn’t Zhutchka; if he

could have had Zhutchka and the puppy, too, then he would have been

completely happy.

“Krassotkin!” cried one of the boys suddenly. He was the first

to see him come in.

Krassotkin’s entrance made a general sensation; the boys moved

away and stood on each side of the bed, so that he could get a full

view of Ilusha. The captain ran eagerly to meet Kolya.

“Please come in… you are welcome!” he said hurriedly. “Ilusha,

Mr. Krassotkin has come to see you!

But Krassotkin, shaking hands with him hurriedly, instantly showed

his complete knowledge of the manners of good society. He turned first

to the captain’s wife sitting in her armchair, who was very

ill-humoured at the moment, and was grumbling that the boys stood

between her and Ilusha’s bed and did not let her see the new puppy.

With the greatest courtesy he made her a bow, scraping his foot, and

turning to Nina, he made her, as the only other lady present, a

similar bow. This polite behaviour made an extremely favourable

impression on the deranged lady.

“There,.you can see at once he is a young man that has been well

brought up,” she commented aloud, throwing up her hands; “But as for

our other visitors they come in one on the top of another.”

“How do you mean, mamma, one on the top of another, how is

that?” muttered the captain affectionately, though a little anxious on

her account.

“That’s how they ride in. They get on each other’s shoulders in

the passage and prance in like that on a respectable family. Strange

sort of visitors!”

“But who’s come in like that, mamma?”

“Why, that boy came in riding on that one’s back and this one on

that one’s.”

Kolya was already by Ilusha’s bedside. The sick boy turned visibly

paler. He raised himself in the bed and looked intently at Kolya.

Kolya had not seen his little friend for two months, and he was

overwhelmed at the sight of him. He had never imagined that he would

see such a wasted, yellow face, such enormous, feverishly glowing eyes

and such thin little hands. He saw, with grieved surprise, Ilusha’s

rapid, hard breathing and dry lips. He stepped close to him, held

out his hand, and almost overwhelmed, he said:

“Well, old man… how are you?” But his voice failed him, he

couldn’t achieve an appearance of ease; his face suddenly twitched and

the corners of his mouth quivered. Ilusha smiled a pitiful little

smile, still unable to utter a word. Something moved Kolya to raise

his hand and pass it over Ilusha’s hair.

“Never mind!” he murmured softly to him to cheer him up, or

perhaps not knowing why he said it. For a minute they were silent

again.

“Hallo, so you’ve got a new puppy?” Kolya said suddenly, in a most

callous voice.

“Ye-es,” answered Ilusha in a long whisper, gasping for breath.

“A black nose, that means he’ll be fierce, a good house-dog,”

Kolya observed gravely and stolidly, as if the only thing he cared

about was the puppy and its black nose. But in reality he still had to

do his utmost to control his feelings not to burst out crying like a

child, and do what he would he could not control it. “When it grows

up, you’ll have to keep it on the chain, I’m sure.”

“He’ll be a huge dog!” cried one of the boys.

“Of course he will,” “a mastiff,” “large,” “like this,” “as big as

a calf,” shouted