Dead Souls (49 page)

The two brothers embraced.

"Really, Platon," said the gentleman (whose name was Vassili), "what
do you mean by treating me like this?"

"How so?" said Platon indifferently.

"What? For three days past I have seen and heard nothing of you! A
groom from Pietukh's brought your cob home, and told me you had
departed on an expedition with some barin. At least you might have
sent me word as to your destination and the probable length of your
absence. What made you act so? God knows what I have not been
wondering!"

"Does it matter?" rejoined Platon. "I forgot to send you word, and we
have been no further than Constantine's (who, with our sister, sends
you his greeting). By the way, may I introduce Paul Ivanovitch
Chichikov?"

The pair shook hands with one another. Then, doffing their caps, they
embraced.

"What sort of man is this Chichikov?" thought Vassili. "As a rule my
brother Platon is not over-nice in his choice of acquaintances." And,
eyeing our hero as narrowly as civility permitted, he saw that his
appearance was that of a perfectly respectable individual.

Chichikov returned Vassili's scrutiny with a similar observance of the
dictates of civility, and perceived that he was shorter than Platon,
that his hair was of a darker shade, and that his features, though
less handsome, contained far more life, animation, and kindliness than
did his brother's. Clearly he indulged in less dreaming, though that
was an aspect which Chichikov little regarded.

"I have made up my mind to go touring our Holy Russia with Paul
Ivanovitch," said Platon. "Perhaps it will rid me of my melancholy."

"What has made you come to such a sudden decision?" asked the
perplexed Vassili (very nearly he added: "Fancy going travelling with
a man whose acquaintance you have just made, and who may turn out to
be a rascal or the devil knows what!" But, in spite of his distrust,
he contented himself with another covert scrutiny of Chichikov, and
this time came to the conclusion that there was no fault to be found
with his exterior).

The party turned to the right, and entered the gates of an ancient
courtyard attached to an old-fashioned house of a type no longer
built—the type which has huge gables supporting a high-pitched roof.
In the centre of the courtyard two great lime trees covered half the
surrounding space with shade, while beneath them were ranged a number
of wooden benches, and the whole was encircled with a ring of
blossoming lilacs and cherry trees which, like a beaded necklace,
reinforced the wooden fence, and almost buried it beneath their
clusters of leaves and flowers. The house, too, stood almost concealed
by this greenery, except that the front door and the windows peered
pleasantly through the foliage, and that here and there between the
stems of the trees there could be caught glimpses of the kitchen
regions, the storehouses, and the cellar. Lastly, around the whole
stood a grove, from the recesses of which came the echoing songs of
nightingales.

Involuntarily the place communicated to the soul a sort of quiet,
restful feeling, so eloquently did it speak of that care-free period
when every one lived on good terms with his neighbour, and all was
simple and unsophisticated. Vassili invited Chichikov to seat himself,
and the party approached, for that purpose, the benches under the lime
trees; after which a youth of about seventeen, and clad in a red
shirt, brought decanters containing various kinds of kvass (some of
them as thick as syrup, and others hissing like aerated lemonade),
deposited the same upon the table, and, taking up a spade which he had
left leaning against a tree, moved away towards the garden. The reason
of this was that in the brothers' household, as in that of
Kostanzhoglo, no servants were kept, since the whole staff were rated
as gardeners, and performed that duty in rotation—Vassili holding
that domestic service was not a specialised calling, but one to which
any one might contribute a hand, and therefore one which did not
require special menials to be kept for the purpose. Moreover, he held
that the average Russian peasant remains active and willing (rather
than lazy) only so long as he wears a shirt and a peasant's smock; but
that as soon as ever he finds himself put into a German tailcoat, he
becomes awkward, sluggish, indolent, disinclined to change his vest or
take a bath, fond of sleeping in his clothes, and certain to breed
fleas and bugs under the German apparel. And it may be that Vassili
was right. At all events, the brothers' peasantry were exceedingly
well clad—the women, in particular, having their head-dresses
spangled with gold, and the sleeves of their blouses embroidered after
the fashion of a Turkish shawl.

"You see here the species of kvass for which our house has long been
famous," said Vassili to Chichikov. The latter poured himself out a
glassful from the first decanter which he lighted upon, and found the
contents to be linden honey of a kind never tasted by him even in
Poland, seeing that it had a sparkle like that of champagne, and also
an effervescence which sent a pleasant spray from the mouth into the
nose.

"Nectar!" he proclaimed. Then he took some from a second decanter. It
proved to be even better than the first. "A beverage of beverages!" he
exclaimed. "At your respected brother-in-law's I tasted the finest
syrup which has ever come my way, but here I have tasted the very
finest kvass."

"Yet the recipe for the syrup also came from here," said Vassili,
"seeing that my sister took it with her. By the way, to what part of
the country, and to what places, are you thinking of travelling?"

"To tell the truth," replied Chichikov, rocking himself to and fro on
the bench, and smoothing his knee with his hand, and gently inclining
his head, "I am travelling less on my own affairs than on the affairs
of others. That is to say, General Betristchev, an intimate friend,
and, I might add, a generous benefactor of mine, has charged me with
commissions to some of his relatives. Nevertheless, though relatives
are relatives, I may say that I am travelling on my own account as
well, in that, in addition to possible benefit to my health, I desire
to see the world and the whirligig of humanity, which constitute, to
so speak, a living book, a second course of education."

Vassili took thought. "The man speaks floridly," he reflected, "yet
his words contain a certain element of truth." After a moment's
silence he added to Platon: "I am beginning to think that the tour
might help you to bestir yourself. At present you are in a condition
of mental slumber. You have fallen asleep, not so much from weariness
or satiety, as through a lack of vivid perceptions and impressions.
For myself, I am your complete antithesis. I should be only too glad
if I could feel less acutely, if I could take things less to heart."

"Emotion has become a disease with you," said Platon. "You seek your
own troubles, and make your own anxieties."

"How can you say that when ready-made anxieties greet one at every
step?" exclaimed Vassili. "For example, have you heard of the trick
which Lienitsin has just played us—of his seizing the piece of vacant
land whither our peasants resort for their sports? That piece I would
not sell for all the money in the world. It has long been our
peasants' play-ground, and all the traditions of our village are bound
up with it. Moreover, for me, old custom is a sacred thing for which I
would gladly sacrifice everything else."

"Lienitsin cannot have known of this, or he would not have seized the
land," said Platon. "He is a newcomer, just arrived from St.
Petersburg. A few words of explanation ought to meet the case."

"But he DOES know of what I have stated; he DOES know of it.
Purposely I sent him word to that affect, yet he has returned me the
rudest of answers."

"Then go yourself and explain matters to him."

"No, I will not do that; he has tried to carry off things with too
high a hand. But YOU can go if you like."

"I would certainly go were it not that I scarcely like to interfere.
Also, I am a man whom he could easily hoodwink and outwit."

"Would it help you if
I
were to go?" put in Chichikov. "Pray
enlighten me as to the matter."

Vassili glanced at the speaker, and thought to himself: "What a
passion the man has for travelling!"

"Yes, pray give me an idea of the kind of fellow," repeated Chichikov,
"and also outline to me the affair."

"I should be ashamed to trouble you with such an unpleasant
commission," replied Vassili. "He is a man whom I take to be an utter
rascal. Originally a member of a family of plain dvoriane in this
province, he entered the Civil Service in St. Petersburg, then married
some one's natural daughter in that city, and has returned to lord it
with a high hand. I cannot bear the tone he adopts. Our folk are by no
means fools. They do not look upon the current fashion as the Tsar's
ukaz any more than they look upon St. Petersburg as the Church."

"Naturally," said Chichikov. "But tell me more of the particulars of
the quarrel."

"They are these. He needs additional land and, had he not acted as he
has done, I would have given him some land elsewhere for nothing; but,
as it is, the pestilent fellow has taken it into his head to—"

"I think I had better go and have a talk with him. That might settle
the affair. Several times have people charged me with similar
commissions, and never have they repented of it. General Betristchev
is an example."

"Nevertheless I am ashamed that you should be put to the annoyance of
having to converse with such a fellow."

(At this point there occurs a long hiatus.)

"And above all things, such a transaction would need to be carried
through in secret," said Chichikov. "True, the law does not forbid
such things, but there is always the risk of a scandal."

"Quite so, quite so," said Lienitsin with head bent down.

"Then we agree!" exclaimed Chichikov. "How charming! As I say, my
business is both legal and illegal. Though needing to effect a
mortgage, I desire to put no one to the risk of having to pay the two
roubles on each living soul; wherefore I have conceived the idea of
relieving landowners of that distasteful obligation by acquiring dead
and absconded souls who have failed to disappear from the revision
list. This enables me at once to perform an act of Christian charity
and to remove from the shoulders of our more impoverished proprietors
the burden of tax-payment upon souls of the kind specified. Should you
yourself care to do business with me, we will draw up a formal
purchase agreement as though the souls in question were still alive."

"But it would be such a curious arrangement," muttered Lienitsin,
moving his chair and himself a little further away. "It would be an
arrangement which, er—er—"

"Would involve you in no scandal whatever, seeing that the affair
would be carried through in secret. Moreover, between friends who are
well-disposed towards one another—"

"Nevertheless—"

Chichikov adopted a firmer and more decided tone. "I repeat that there
would be no scandal," he said. "The transaction would take place as
between good friends, and as between friends of mature age, and as
between friends of good status, and as between friends who know how to
keep their own counsel." And, so saying, he looked his interlocutor
frankly and generously in the eyes.

Nevertheless Lienitsin's resourcefulness and acumen in business
matters failed to relieve his mind of a certain perplexity—and the
less so since he had contrived to become caught in his own net. Yet,
in general, he possessed neither a love for nor a talent for underhand
dealings, and, had not fate and circumstances favoured Chichikov by
causing Lienitsin's wife to enter the room at that moment, things
might have turned out very differently from what they did. Madame was
a pale, thin, insignificant-looking young lady, but none the less a
lady who wore her clothes a la St. Petersburg, and cultivated the
society of persons who were unimpeachably comme il faut. Behind her,
borne in a nurse's arms, came the first fruits of the love of husband
and wife. Adopting his most telling method of approach (the method
accompanied with a sidelong inclination of the head and a sort of
hop), Chichikov hastened to greet the lady from the metropolis, and
then the baby. At first the latter started to bellow disapproval, but
the words "Agoo, agoo, my pet!" added to a little cracking of the
fingers and a sight of a beautiful seal on a watch chain, enabled
Chichikov to weedle the infant into his arms; after which he fell to
swinging it up and down until he had contrived to raise a smile on its
face—a circumstance which greatly delighted the parents, and finally
inclined the father in his visitor's favour. Suddenly,
however—whether from pleasure or from some other cause—the infant
misbehaved itself!"

"My God!" cried Madame. "He has gone and spoilt your frockcoat!"

True enough, on glancing downwards, Chichikov saw that the sleeve of
his brand-new garment had indeed suffered a hurt. "If I could catch
you alone, you little devil," he muttered to himself, "I'd shoot you!"

Host, hostess and nurse all ran for eau-de-Cologne, and from three
sides set themselves to rub the spot affected.

"Never mind, never mind; it is nothing," said Chichikov as he strove
to communicate to his features as cheerful an expression as possible.
"What does it matter what a child may spoil during the golden age of
its infancy?"

To himself he remarked: "The little brute! Would it could be devoured
by wolves. It has made only too good a shot, the cussed young
ragamuffin!"

How, after this—after the guest had shown such innocent affection for
the little one, and magnanimously paid for his so doing with a
brand-new suit—could the father remain obdurate? Nevertheless, to
avoid setting a bad example to the countryside, he and Chichikov
agreed to carry through the transaction PRIVATELY, lest, otherwise,
a scandal should arise.