Short Fiction by Leonid Andreyev (fastest ebook reader TXT) 📕

gin mill and suddenly discovers that his mules had scattered to the four winds.

And suddenly Pascale, the professor, lost his temper. He demanded that I give him my knife and said to the monk who had sat down for a rest after his outburst of curses:

“Listen, in a minute I will slit your belly, and if I find there but one drop of wine or one atom of a pullet.⁠ ⁠…”

“And if you don’t?” angrily retorted the monk.

“Then we shall count you among the saints. Hold his legs, Geronimo!”

The monk was frightened and departed mumbling:

“And I thought you were Christians! Blasphemy! Blasphemy!”

But the lunatic gazed after him benignly and spoke approvingly:

“This is what I call perfect order. We have been so long waiting for perfect order.”

VII

And we walked a long time about the city and saw many odd things. But the day was short, and the night fell upon earth earlier than ever before; and when the firing squad was killing Pascale, the soldiers had lighted their torches.

VIII

When Pascale was put against the wall, against the portion of it which had remained uninjured, and the soldiers raised their rifles, the officer said to him:

“You will die in a moment. Tell me why are you not afraid? That which has happened is terrible, and we are all pale with horror, but you are not. Why is that?”

Pascale was silent; he waited for the officer to ask him more questions so that he might reply to all of them in one.

“And whence comes your boldness: to stoop and to take that which belongs to others at a time when people in terror forget even themselves and their children? And are you not sorry for those women and children who have perished? We have seen cats that have lost their mind through terror, and you are a human being. I will have you shot instantly.”

This was well spoken, but our Pascale could speak every bit as well. He has been shot dead. He is dead, but some day when all the dead arise you will hear his speech, and you will shed tears, if by that time all the tears are not exhausted, O Man.

He said:

“I take that which is another’s because I have nothing that is my own. I took the raiment off a dead man in order to clothe my living flesh, but you have seen me do it, and so you have stripped me; and now I stand naked in front of your rifles. Soldiers, fire!”

But the officer did not suffer them to fire and asked him to speak further.

IX

“Naked I stand in front of your rifles and fear nothing, not even your rifles. But you are pale with fear, and you fear everything, even your own rifles, even my naked body. When the quake was heard, it destroyed and killed your city, your fortunes, your children and wives⁠—but it opened a prison for me. What then shall I fear? I have nothing of my own upon the face of the earth. I am, naked.

X

“And if the whole earth crumbled into ruin, and the very beasts howled with horror, and the fish found a voice to express their grief, and the birds fell to the ground with dread, even then I would not fear. For all others it means the ruin of the earth, for me it opens the doors of a prison. What then shall I fear? I am naked.

XI

“And if the universe crumbled, with heaven and hell, and horror were enthroned over the infinity of living creatures, even then I would know no fear. For all it would be the end of the universe, for me the opening of a prison. What then shall I fear? I am naked.

XII

“And now, when with one salvo of your rifles you will destroy for me the earth and the universe, even now I know no fear. For all of you it will be the destruction and the fall of a human body, but for me a prison will open its gates. Soldiers, fire! I am naked.”

XIII

The torches blazed. It was the shortest day which I had ever seen. Night fell upon the earth more quickly than ever before.

“It is your turn now,” ordered the officer, when Pascale, the professor, had fallen.

True, I had not been caught in any wrongdoing, and there was nothing to kill me for. But can you argue with them? And so I stood up. And I lamented the night. Do you understand me? the night! Here the torches and the fires were ruining it, and there, behind the torches and the fire, it stood out strong, and firm, and dark as the nights of my youth. I love the night, for then I do not see myself and can think what I will. The day reaches my garments, but can go no further. It stops at the darkness of my body and turns blind. But the night reaches my very heart. That is why it is so easy to love at night; anybody will tell you that. Ah, to spend only one hour in the shade of the faithful, of the black and beautiful night, only one hour. But can you argue with them? So I stood up.

But it is well to love also in the day time, when the sun is shining. Love itself is like the night, it reaches the heart, don’t you see. And in love you fail to see your own self, even as in the midst of night. And if you only look into its eyes⁠—straight into its black eyes⁠—and look without tearing your gaze away.⁠ ⁠…

Suddenly for some reason the officer shouted angrily at the soldier and snapped at me:

“Get out of here!”

XIV

Another day passed. And on that day the soldiers shot that youngster who had called me father.