the wife and other stories-第31部分

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〃Don't　pretend；　Nikolay　Stepanovitch；〃　Katya　interrupts　me。　〃Let　us　make　a　compact　once　for　all；　we　will　talk　about　actors；　actresses；　and　authors；　but　we　will　let　art　alone。　You　are　a　splendid　and　rare　person；　but　you　don't　know　enough　about　art　sincerely　to　think　it　sacred。　You　have　no　instinct　or　feeling　for　art。　You　have　been　hard　at　work　all　your　life；　and　have　not　had　time　to　acquire　that　feeling。　Altogether　。　。　。　I　don't　like　talk　about　art；〃　she　goes　on　nervously。　〃I　don't　like　it！　And；　my　goodness；　how　they　have　vulgarized　it！〃

〃Who　has　vulgarized　it？〃

〃They　have　vulgarized　it　by　drunkenness；　the　newspapers　by　their　familiar　attitude；　clever　people　by　philosophy。〃

〃Philosophy　has　nothing　to　do　with　it。〃

〃Yes；　it　has。　If　any　one　philosophizes　about　it；　it　shows　he　does　not　understand　it。〃

To　avoid　bitterness　I　hasten　to　change　the　subject；　and　then　sit　a　long　time　silent。　Only　when　we　are　driving　out　of　the　wood　and　turning　towards　Katya's　villa　I　go　back　to　my　former　question；　and　say：

〃You　have　still　not　answered　me；　why　you　don't　want　to　go　on　the　stage。〃

〃Nikolay　Stepanovitch；　this　is　cruel！〃　she　cries；　and　suddenly　flushes　all　over。　〃You　want　me　to　tell　you　the　truth　aloud？　Very　well；　if　。　。　。　if　you　like　it！　I　have　no　talent！　No　talent　and　。　。　。　and　a　great　deal　of　vanity！　So　there！〃

After　making　this　confession　she　turns　her　face　away　from　me；　and　to　hide　the　trembling　of　her　hands　tugs　violently　at　the　reins。

As　we　are　driving　towards　her　villa　we　see　Mihail　Fyodorovitch　walking　near　the　gate；　impatiently　awaiting　us。

〃That　Mihail　Fyodorovitch　again！〃　says　Katya　with　vexation。　〃Do　rid　me　of　him；　please！　I　am　sick　and　tired　of　him　。　。　。　bother　him！〃

Mihail　Fyodorovitch　ought　to　have　gone　abroad　long　ago；　but　he　puts　off　going　from　week　to。　week。　Of　late　there　have　been　certain　changes　in　him。　He　looks；　as　it　were；　sunken；　has　taken　to　drinking　until　he　is　tipsy；　a　thing　which　never　used　to　happen　to　him；　and　his　black　eyebrows　are　beginning　to　turn　grey。　When　our　chaise　stops　at　the　gate　he　does　not　conceal　his　joy　and　his　impatience。　He　fussily　helps　me　and　Katya　out；　hurriedly　asks　questions；　laughs；　rubs　his　hands；　and　that　gentle；　imploring；　pure　expression；　which　I　used　to　notice　only　in　his　eyes；　is　now　suffused　all　over　his　face。　He　is　glad　and　at　the　same　time　he　is　ashamed　of　his　gladness；　ashamed　of　his　habit　of　spending　every　evening　with　Katya。　And　he　thinks　it　necessary　to　explain　his　visit　by　some　obvious　absurdity　such　as：　〃I　was　driving　by；　and　I　thought　I　would　just　look　in　for　a　minute。〃

We　all　three　go　indoors；　first　we　drink　tea；　then　the　familiar　packs　of　cards；　the　big　piece　of　cheese；　the　fruit；　and　the　bottle　of　Crimean　champagne　are　put　upon　the　table。　The　subjects　of　our　conversation　are　not　new；　they　are　just　the　same　as　in　the　winter。　We　fall　foul　of　the　University；　the　students；　and　literature　and　the　theatre；　the　air　grows　thick　and　stifling　with　evil　speaking；　and　poisoned　by　the　breath；　not　of　two　toads　as　in　the　winter；　but　of　three。　Besides　the　velvety　baritone　laugh　and　the　giggle　like　the　gasp　of　a　concertina；　the　maid　who　waits　upon　us　hears　an　unpleasant　cracked　〃He；　he！〃　like　the　chuckle　of　a　general　in　a　vaudeville。

V

There　are　terrible　nights　with　thunder；　lightning；　rain；　and　wind；　such　as　are　called　among　the　people　〃sparrow　nights。〃　There　has　been　one　such　night　in　my　personal　life。

I　woke　up　after　midnight　and　leaped　suddenly　out　of　bed。　It　seemed　to　me　for　some　reason　that　I　was　just　immedi　ately　going　to　die。　Why　did　it　seem　so？　I　had　no　sensation　in　my　body　that　suggested　my　immediate　death；　but　my　soul　was　oppressed　with　terror；　as　though　I　had　suddenly　seen　a　vast　menacing　glow　of　fire。

I　rapidly　struck　a　light；　drank　some　water　straight　out　of　the　decanter；　then　hurried　to　the　open　window。　The　weather　outside　was　magnificent。　There　was　a　smell　of　hay　and　some　other　very　sweet　scent。　I　could　see　the　spikes　of　the　fence；　the　gaunt；　drowsy　trees　by　the　window；　the　road；　the　dark　streak　of　woodland；　there　was　a　serene；　very　bright　moon　in　the　sky　and　not　a　single　cloud；　perfect　stillness；　not　one　leaf　stirring。　I　felt　that　everything　was　looking　at　me　and　waiting　for　me　to　die。　。　。　。

It　was　uncanny。　I　closed　the　window　and　ran　to　my　bed。　I　felt　for　my　pulse；　and　not　finding　it　in　my　wrist；　tried　to　find　it　in　my　temple；　then　in　my　chin；　and　again　in　my　wrist；　and　everything　I　touched　was　cold　and　clammy　with　sweat。　My　breathing　came　more　and　more　rapidly；　my　body　was　shivering；　all　my　inside　was　in　commotion；　I　had　a　sensation　on　my　face　and　on　my　bald　head　as　though　they　were　covered　with　spiders'　webs。

What　should　I　do？　Call　my　family？　No；　it　would　be　no　use。　I　could　not　imagine　what　my　wife　and　Liza　would　do　when　they　came　in　to　me。

I　hid　my　head　under　the　pillow；　closed　my　eyes；　and　waited　and　waited。　。　。　。　My　spine　was　cold；　it　seemed　to　be　drawn　inwards；　and　I　felt　as　though　death　were　coming　upon　me　stealthily　from　behind

〃Kee…vee！　kee…vee！〃　I　heard　a　sudden　shriek　in　the　night's　stillness；　and　did　not　know　where　it　was　　in　my　breast　or　in　the　street　　〃Kee…vee！　kee…vee！〃

〃My　God；　how　terrible！〃　I　would　have　drunk　some　more　water；　but　by　then　it　was　fearful　to　open　my　eyes　and　I　was　afraid　to　raise　my　head。　I　was　possessed　by　unaccountable　animal　terror；　and　I　cannot　understand　why　I　was　so　frightened：　was　it　that　I　wanted　to　live；　or　that　some　new　unknown　pain　was　in　store　for　me？

Upstairs；　overhead；　some　one　moaned　or　laughed。　I　listened。　Soon　afterwards　there　was　a　sound　of　footsteps　on　the　stairs。　Some　one　came　hurriedly　down；　then　went　up　again。　A　minute　later　there　was　a　sound　of　steps　downstairs　again；　some　one　stopped　near　my　door　and　listened。

〃Who　is　there？〃　I　cried。

The　door　opened。　I　boldly　opened　my　eyes；　and　saw　my　wife。　Her　face　was　pale　and　her　eyes　were　tear…stained。

〃You　are　not　asleep；　Nikolay　Stepanovitch？〃　she　asked。

〃What　is　it？　〃

〃For　God's　sake；　go　up　and　have　a　look　at　Liza；　there　is　something　the　matter　with　her。　。　。　。〃

〃Very　good；　with　pleasure；〃　I　muttered；　greatly　relieved　at　not　being　alone。　〃Very　good；　this　minute。　。　。　。〃

I　followed　my　wife；　heard　what　she　said　to　me；　and　was　too　agitated　to　understand　a　word。　Patches　of　light　from　her　candle　danced　about　the　stairs；　our　long　shadows　trembled。　My　feet　caught　in　the　skirts　of　my　dressing…gown；　I　gasped　for　breath；　and　felt　as　though　something　were　pursuing　me　and　trying　to　catch　me　from　behind。

〃I　shall　die　on　the　spot；　here　on　the　staircase；〃　I　thought。　〃On　the　spot。　。　。　。〃　But　we　passed　the　staircase；　the　dark　corridor　with　the　Italian　windows；　and　went　into　Liza's　room。　She　was　sitting　on　the　bed　in　her　nightdress；　with　her　bare　feet　hanging　down；　and　she　was　moaning。

〃Oh；　my　God！　Oh；　my　God！〃　she　was　muttering；　screwing　up　her　eyes　at　our　candle。　〃I　can't　bear　it。〃

〃Liza；　my　child；〃　I　said；　〃what　is　it？〃

Seeing　me；　she　began　crying　out；　and　flung　herself　on　my　neck。

〃My　kind　papa！　。　。　。〃　she　sobbed　　〃my　dear；　good　papa　。　。　。　my　darling；　my　pet；　I　don't　know　what　is　the　matter　with　me。　。　。　。　I　am　miserable！〃

She　hugged　me；　kissed　me；　and　babbled　fond　words　I　used　to　hear　from　her　when　she　was　a　child。

〃Calm　yourself；　my　child。　God　be　with　you；〃　I　said。　〃There　is　no　need　to　cry。　I　am　miserable；　too。〃

I　tried　to　tuck　her　in；　my　wife　gave　her　water；　and　we　awkwardly　stumbled　by　her　bedside；　my　shoulder　jostled　against　her　shoulder；　and　meanwhile　I　was　thinking　how　we　used　to　give　our　children　their　bath　together。

〃Help　her！　help　her！〃　my　wife　implored　me。　〃Do　something！〃

What　could　I　do？　I　could　do　nothing。　There　was　some　load　on　the　girl's　heart；　but　I　did　not　understand；　I　knew　nothing　about　it；　and　could　only　mutter：

〃It's　nothing；　it's　nothing；　it　will　pass。　Sleep；　sleep！〃

To　make　things　worse；　there　was　a　sudden　sound　of　dogs　howling；　at　first　subdued　and　uncertain；　then　loud；　two　dogs　howling　together。　I　had　never　attached　significance　to　such　omens　as　the　howling　of　dogs　or　the　shrieking　of　owls；　but　on　that　occasion　it　sent　a　pang　to　my　heart；　and　I　hastened　to　explain　the　howl　to　myself。

〃It's　nonsense；〃　I　thought；　〃the　influence　of　one　organism　on　another。　The　intensely　strained　condition　of　my　nerves　has　infected　my　wife；　Liza；　the　dog　　that　is　all。　。　。　。　Such　infection　explains　presentiments；　forebodings。　。　。　。〃

When　a　little　later　I　went　back　to　my　room　to　write　a　prescription　for　Liza；　I　no　longer　thought　I　should　die　at　once；　but　only　had　such　a　weight；　such　a　feeling　of　oppression　in　my　soul　that　I　felt　actually　sorry　that　I　had　not　died　on　the　spot。　For　a　long　time　I　stood　motionless　in　the　middle　of　the　room；　pondering　what　to　prescribe　for　Liza。　But　the　moans　overhead　ceased；　and　I　decided　to　prescribe　nothing；　and　yet　I　went　on　standing　there。　。　。　。

There　was　a　deathlike　stillness；　such　a　stillness；　as　some　author　has　expressed　it；　〃it　rang　in　one's　ears。〃　Time　passed　slowly；　the　streaks　of　moonlight　on　the　window…sill　did　not　shift　their　position；　but　seemed　as　though　frozen。　。　。　。　It　was　still　some　time　before　dawn。

But　the　gate　in　the　fence　creaked；　some　one　stole　in　and；　breaking　a　twig　from　one　of　those　scraggy　trees；　cautiously　tapp