Sanine by Mikhail Artsybashev (ebook pdf reader for pc .TXT) 📕

“It is grandfather, our guardian,” said Kousma. The old man sat down on the ground, deposited his weapon, and looked hard at Yourii and Riasantzeff.

“Been out shooting; yes, yes!” he mumbled, showing his shrivelled, discoloured gums. “He! He! Kousma, it’s time to boil the potatoes! He! He!”

Riasantzeff picked up the old fellow’s flintlock, and laughingly showed it to Yourii. It was a rusty old barrel-loader, very heavy, with wire wound round it.

“I say,” said he, “what sort of a gun do you call this? Aren’t you afraid to shoot with it?”

“He! He! I nearly shot myself with it once! Stepan Schapka, he told me that one could shoot without⁠ ⁠… caps? He! He!⁠ ⁠… without caps! He said that if there were any sulphur left in the gun one could fire without a cap. So I put the loaded rifle on my knee like this, and fired it off at full cock with my finger, like this, see? Then bang! it went off! Nearly killed myself! He! He! Loaded the rifle, and bang!! Nearly killed myself!”

They all laughed, and there were tears of mirth in Yourii’s eyes, so absurd did the little man seem with his tufted grey beard and his sunken jaws.

The old fellow laughed, too, till his little eyes watered. “Very nearly killed myself! He! He!”

In the darkness, and beyond the circle of light, one could hear laughter, and the voices of girls whom shyness had kept at a distance. A few feet away from the fire, and in quite a different place from where Yourii imagined him to be seated, Sanine struck a match. In the reddish flare of it Yourii saw his calm, friendly eyes, and beside him a young face whose soft eyes beneath their dark brows looked up at Sanine with simple joy.

Riasantzeff, as he winked to Kousma, said:

“Grandfather, hadn’t you better keep an eye on your granddaughter, eh?”

“What’s the good!” replied Kousma, with a careless gesture. “Youth is youth.”

“He! He!” laughed the old man in his turn, as with his fingers he plucked a red-hot coal from the fire.

Sanine’s laugh was heard in the darkness. The girls may have felt ashamed, for they had moved away, and their voices were scarcely audible.

“It is time to go,” said Riasantzeff, as he got up. “Thank you, Kousma.”

“Not at all,” replied the other, as with his sleeve he brushed away the black melon-pips that had stuck to his grey beard. He shook hands with both of them, and Yourii again felt a certain repugnance to the touch of his rough, bony hand. As they retreated from the fire, the gloom seemed less intense. Above were the cold, glittering stars and the vast dome of heaven, serenely fair. The group by the fire, the horses, and the pile of melons all became blacker against the light.

Yourii tripped over a pumpkin and nearly fell.

“Look out!” said Sanine. “Goodbye!”

“Goodbye!” replied Yourii, looking round at the other’s tall, dark form, leaning against which he fancied that he saw another, the graceful figure of a woman. Yourii’s heart beat faster. He suddenly thought of Sina Karsavina, and envied Sanine.

Once more the wheels of the droschky rattled, and once again the good old horse snorted as it ran.

The fire faded in distance, as did the sound of voices and laughter. Stillness reigned. Yourii slowly looked upwards to the sky with its jewelled web of stars. As they reached the outskirts of the town, lights flashed here and there, and dogs barked. Riasantzeff said to Yourii:

“Old Kousma’s a philosopher, eh?”

Seated behind, Yourii looked at Riasantzeff’s neck, and roused from his own melancholy thoughts, endeavoured to understand what he said.

“Oh!⁠ ⁠… Yes!” he replied hesitatingly.

“I didn’t know that Sanine was such a gay dog,” laughed Riasantzeff.

Yourii was not dreaming now, and he recalled the momentary vision of Sanine and that pretty girlish face illumined by the light of a match. Again he felt jealous, yet suddenly it occurred to him that Sanine’s treatment of the girl was base and contemptible.

“No, I had no idea of it, either,” said Yourii, with a touch of irony that was lost upon Riasantzeff, who whipped up the horse and, after a while, remarked:

“Pretty girl, wasn’t she? I know her. She’s the old fellow’s grandchild.”

Yourii was silent. His contemplative mood was in a moment dispelled, and he now felt convinced that Sanine was a coarse, bad man.

Riasantzeff shrugged his shoulders, and at last blurted out:

“Deuce take it! Such a night, eh? It seems to have got hold of me, too. I say, suppose we drive back, and⁠—”

Yourii did not at first understand what he meant.

“There are some fine girls there, you know. What do you say? Shall we go back?” continued Riasantzeff, sniggering.

Yourii blushed deeply. A thrill of animal lust shot through his frame, and enticing pictures rose up before his heated imagination. Yet, controlling himself, he answered, in a dry voice:

“No; it is time that we were at home.” Then he added, maliciously: “Lialia is waiting for us.”

Riasantzeff collapsed.

“Oh, yes, of course; yes, we ought to be back by now!” he hastily muttered.

Yourii ground his teeth, and, glaring at the driver’s broad back in its white jacket, remarked aggressively:

“I have no particular liking for adventures of that sort.”

“No, no; I understand. Ha! Ha!” replied Riasantzeff, laughing in a faint halfhearted way. After that he was silent.

“Damn it! How stupid of me!” he thought.

They drove home without uttering another word, and to each the way seemed endless.

“You will come in, won’t you?” asked Yourii, without looking up.

“Er⁠ ⁠… No! I have got to see a patient. Besides it is rather late,” replied Riasantzeff hesitatingly.

Yourii got out of the droschky, not caring to take the gun or the game. Everything that belonged to Riasantzeff he now seemed to loathe. The latter called out to him.

“I say, you’ve left your gun!”

Yourii turned round, took this and the bag with an air of disgust. After shaking hands awkwardly with Riasantzeff, he entered the house. The latter drove on slowly for a short distance and then turned