Creatures That Once Were Men
M >>
Maxim Gorky >> Creatures That Once Were Men
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 | 4 |
5 |
6
"Isn't it all the same? Money makes life comfortable, but no
money," . . . and the merchant looked at the Captain with a
feigned expression of suffering. The other's upper lip curled,
and exposed large, wolf-like teeth.
"With brains and a conscience, it is possible to live without it.
Men only acquire riches when they cease to listen to their
conscience . . . the less conscience the more money!"
"Just so; but then there are men who have neither money nor
conscience."
"Were you just like what you are now when you were young?" asked
Kuvalda simply. The other's nostrils twitched. Ivan
Andreyevitch sighed, passed his hand over his eyes and said:
"Oh! When I was young I had to undergo a great many difficulties
. . . Work! Oh! I did work!"
"And you cheated, too, I suppose?"
"People like you? Nobles? I should just think so! They used to
grovel at my feet!"
"You only went in for robbing, not murder, I suppose?" asked the
Captain. Petunikoff turned pale, and hastily changed the
subject.
"You are a bad host. You sit while your guest stands."
"Let him sit, too," said Kuvalda.
"But what am I to sit on?"
"On the earth . . . it will take any rubbish . . ."
"You are the proof of that," said Petunikoff quietly, while his
eyes shot forth poisonous glances.
And he went away, leaving Kuvalda under the pleasant impression
that the merchant was afraid of him. If he were not afraid of
him he would long ago have evicted him from the dosshouse. But
then he would think twice before turning him out, because of the
five roubles a month. And the Captain gazed with pleasure at
Petunikoff's back as he slowly retreated from the courtyard.
Following him with his eyes, he noticed how the merchant passed
the factory and disappeared into the wood, and he wished very
much that he might fall and break all his bones. He sat
imagining many horrible forms of disaster while watching
Petunikoff, who was descending the hill into the wood like a
spider going into its web. Last night he even imagined that the
wood gave way before the merchant and he fell . . . but
afterwards he found that he had only been dreaming.
And to-day, as always, the red building stands out before the
eyes of Aristid Kuvalda, so plain, so massive, and clinging so
strongly to the earth, that it seems to be sucking away all its
life. It appears to be laughing coldly at the Captain with its
gaping walls. The sun pours its rays on them as generously as it
does on the miserable hovels of the main street.
"Devil take the thing!" exclaimed the Captain, thoughtfully
measuring the walls of the factory with his eyes. "If only . . ."
Trembling with excitement at the thought that had just entered
his mind, Aristid Kuvalda jumped up and ran to Vaviloff's
eating-house, muttering to himself all the time.
Vaviloff met him at the bar, and gave him a friendly welcome.
"I wish your honour good health!" He was of middle height, and
had a bald head, grey hair, and straight moustaches like
tooth-brushes. Upright and neat in his clean jacket, he showed
by every movement that he was an old soldier.
"Egorka, show me the lease and plan of your house," demanded
Kuvalda, impatiently.
"I have shown it you before." Vaviloff looked up suspiciously
and closely scanned the Captain's face.
"Show it me!" shouted the Captain, striking the bar with his fist
and sitting down on a stool close by.
"But why?" asked Vaviloff, knowing that it was better to keep his
wits about him when Kuvalda got excited.
"You fool! Bring it at once."
Vaviloff rubbed his forehead, and turned his eyes to the ceiling
in a tired way.
"Where are those papers of yours?"
There was no answer to this on the ceiling, so the old sergeant
looked down at the floor, and began drumming with his fingers on
the bar in a worried and thoughtful manner.
"It's no good your making wry faces!" shouted the Captain, for he
had no great affection for him, thinking that a former soldier
should rather have become a thief than an eating-house keeper.
"Oh! Yes! Aristid Fomich, I remember now. They were left at
the High Court of Justice at the time when I came into
possession."
"Get along, Egorka! It is to your own interest to show me the
plan, the title-deeds, and everything you have immediately. You
will probably clear at least a hundred roubles over this, do you
understand?"
Vaviloff did not understand at all; but the Captain spoke in such
a serious and convincing tone that the sergeant's eyes burned
with curiosity, and, telling him that he would see if the papers
were in his desk, he went through the door behind the bar. Two
minutes later he returned with the papers in his hand, and an
expression of extreme astonishment on his face.
"Here they are; the deeds about the damned houses!"
"Ah! You . . . vagabond! And you pretend to have been a
soldier, too!" And Kuvalda did not cease to belabour him with
his tongue, as he snatched the blue parchment from his hands.
Then, spreading the papers out in front of him, and excited all
the more by Vaviloff's inquisitiveness, the Captain began reading
and bellowing at the same time. At last he got up resolutely,
and went to the door, leaving all the papers on the bar, and
saying to Vaviloff:
"Wait! Don't lift them!"
Vaviloff gathered them up, put them into the cash-box, and locked
it, then felt the lock with his hand, to see if it were secure.
After that, he scratched his bald head, thoughtfully, and went up
on the roof of the eating-house. There he saw the Captain
measuring the front of the house, and watched him anxiously, as
he snapped his fingers, and began measuring the same line over
again. Vaviloff's face lit up suddenly, and he smiled happily.
"Aristid Fomich, is it possible?" he shouted, when the Captain
came opposite to him.
"Of course it is possible. There is more than one short in the
front alone, and as to the depth I shall see immediately."
"The depth . . . seventy-three feet."
"What? Have you guessed, you shaved ugly face?"
"Of course, Aristid Fomich! If you have eyes you can see a thing
or two," shouted Vaviloff, joyfully.
A few minutes afterwards they sat side by side in Vaviloff's
parlour, and the Captain was engaged in drinking large quantities
of beer.
"And so all the walls of the factory stand on your ground," said
he to the eating-house keeper. "Now, mind you show no mercy!
The teacher will be here presently, and we will get him to draw
up a petition to the court. As to the amount of the damages you
will name a very moderate sum in order not to waste money in deed
stamps, but we will ask to have the factory knocked down. This,
you see, donkey, is the result of trespassing on other people's
property. It is a splendid piece of luck for you. We will force
him to have the place smashed, and I can tell you it will be an
expensive job for him. Off with you to the court. Bring
pressure to bear on Judas. We will calculate how much it will
take to break the factory down to its very foundations. We will
make an estimate of it all, counting the time it will take too,
and we will make honest Judas pay two thousand roubles besides."
"He will never give it!" cried Vaviloff, but his eyes shone with
a greedy light.
"You lie! He will give it . . . Use your brains. . . What else
can he do? But look here, Egorka, mind you don't go in for doing
it on the cheap. They are sure to try to buy you off. Don't
sell yourself cheap. They will probably use threats, but rely
upon us. . ."
The Captain's eyes were alight with happiness, and his face red
with excitement. He worked upon Vaviloff's greed, and urging
upon him the importance of immediate action in the matter, went
away in a very joyful and happy frame of mind.
* * * * *
In the evening everyone was told of the Captain's discovery, and
they all began to discuss Petunikoff's future predicament,
painting in vivid colours his excitement and astonishment on the
day the court messenger handed him the copy of the summons. The
Captain felt himself quite a hero. He was happy and all his
friends highly pleased. The heap of dark and tattered figures
that lay in the courtyard made noisy demonstrations of pleasure.
They all knew the merchant, Petunikoff, who passed them very
often, contemptuously turning up his eyes and giving them no more
attention than he bestowed on the other heaps of rubbish lying on
the ground. He was well fed, and that exasperated them still
more; and now how splendid it was that one of themselves had
struck a hard blow at the selfish merchant's purse! It gave them
all the greatest pleasure. The Captain's discovery was a
powerful instrument in their hands. Every one of them felt keen
animosity towards all those who were well fed and well dressed,
but in some of them this feeling was only beginning to develop.
Burning interest was felt by those "creatures that once were men"
in the prospective fight between Kuvalda and Petunikoff, which
they already saw in imagination.
For a fortnight the inhabitants of the dosshouse awaited the
further development of events, but Petunikoff never once visited
the building. It was known that he was not in town and that the
copy of the petition had not yet been handed to him. Kuvalda
raged at the delays of the civil court. It is improbable that
anyone had ever awaited the merchant with such impatience as did
this bare-footed brigade.
"He isn't even thinking of coming, the wretch! . . ."
"That means that he does not love me!" sang Deacon Taras, leaning
his chin on his hand and casting a humorous glance towards the
mountain.
At last Petunikoff appeared. He came in a respectable cart with
his son playing the role of groom. The latter was a red-checked,
nice-looking youngster, in a long square-cut overcoat. He wore
smoked eyeglasses. They tied the horse to an adjoining tree, the
son took the measuring instrument out of his pocket and gave it
to his father, and they began to measure the ground. Both were
silent and worried.
"Aha!" shouted the Captain, gleefully.
All those who were in the dosshouse at the moment came out to
look at them and expressed themselves loudly and freely in
reference to the matter.
"What does the habit of thieving mean? A man may sometimes make
a big mistake when he steals, standing to lose more than he
gets," said the Captain, causing much laughter among his staff
and eliciting various murmurs of assent.
"Take care, you devil!" shouted Petunikoff, "lest I have you in
the police court for your words!"
"You can do nothing to me without witnesses . . . Your son
cannot give evidence on your side " . . . the Captain warned him.
"Look out all the same, you old wretch, you may be found guilty
too!" And Petunikoff shook his fist at him. His son, deeply
engrossed in his calculations, took no notice of the dark group
of men, who were taking such a wicked delight in adding to his
father's discomfiture. He did not even once look in their
direction.
"The young spider has himself well in hand," remarked Abyedok,
watching young Petunikoff's every movement and action. Having
taken all the measurements he desired, Ivan Andreyevitch knit his
brows, got into the cart, and drove away. His son went with a
firm step into Vaviloff's eating-house, and disappeared behind
the door.
"Ho, ho! That's a determined young thief! . . . What will
happen next, I wonder . . .?" asked Kuvalda.
"Next? Young Petunikoff will buy out Egor Vaviloff," said
Abyedok with conviction, and smacked his lips as if the idea gave
him great pleasure.
"And you are glad of that?" Kuvalda asked him, gravely.
"I am always pleased to see human calculations miscarry,"
explained Abyedok, rolling his eyes and rubbing his hands with
delight. The Captain spat angrily on the ground and was silent.
They all stood in front of the tumble-down building, and silently
watched the doors of the eating-house. More than an hour passed
thus. Then the doors opened and Petunikoff came out as silently
as he had entered. He stopped for a moment, coughed, turned up
the collar of his coat, glanced at the men, who were following
all his movements with their eyes, and then went up the street
towards the town.
The Captain watched him for a moment, and turning to Abyedok
said, smilingly:
"Probably you were right after all, you son of a scorpion and a
wood-louse! You nose out every evil thing. Yes, the face of
that young swindler shows that he has got what he wanted. . . I
wonder how much Egorka has got out of them. He has evidently
taken something. . . He is just the same sort of rogue that they
are . . . they are all tarred with the same brush. He has got
some money, and I'm damned if I did not arrange the whole thing
for him! It is best to own my folly. . . Yes, life is against
us all, brothers . . . and even when you spit upon those nearest
to you, the spittle rebounds and hits your own face."
Having satisfied himself with this reflection, the worthy Captain
looked round upon his staff. Every one of them was disappointed,
because they all knew that something they did not expect had
taken place between Petunikoff and Vaviloff, and they all felt
that they had been insulted. The feeling that one is unable to
injure anyone is worse than the feeling that one is unable to do
good, because to do harm is far easier and simpler.
"Well, why are we loitering here? We have nothing more to wait
for . . . except the reward that I shall get out--out of Egorka,
. . . " said the Captain, looking angrily at the eating-house.
"So our peaceful life under the roof of Judas has come to an end.
Judas will now turn us out. . . . So do not say that I have not
warned you."
Kanets smiled sadly.
"What are you laughing at, jailer?" Kuvalda asked.
"Where shall I go then?"
"That, my soul, is a question that fate will settle for you, so
do not worry," said the Captain, thoughtfully, entering the
dosshouse. "The creatures that once were men" followed him.
"We can do nothing but await the critical moment," said the
Captain, walking about among them. "When they turn us out we
shall seek a new place for ourselves, but at present there is no
use spoiling our life by thinking of it . . . In times of crisis
one becomes energetic . . . and if life were fuller of them and
every moment of it so arranged that we were compelled to tremble
for our lives all the time . . . By God! life would be livelier
and even fuller of interest and energy than it is!"
"That means that people would all go about cutting one another's
throats," explained Abyedok, smilingly.
"Well, what about it?" asked the Captain, angrily. He did not
like to hear his thoughts illustrated.
"Oh! Nothing! When a person wants to get anywhere quickly he
whips up the horses, but of course it needs fire to make engines
go . . ."
"Well, let everything go to the Devil as quickly as possible.
I'm sure I should be pleased if the earth suddenly opened up or
was burned or destroyed somehow . . only I were left to the last
in order to see the others consumed . . ."
"Ferocious creature!" smiled Abyedok.
"Well, what of that? I . . . I was once a man . . now I am an
outcast . . . that means I have no obligations. It means that I
am free to spit on everyone. The nature of my present life means
the rejection of my past . . . giving up all relations towards
men who are well fed and well dressed, and who look upon me with
contempt because I am inferior to them in the matter of feeding
or dressing. I must develop something new within myself, do you
understand? Something that will make Judas Petunikoff and his
kind tremble and perspire before me!"
"Ah! You have a courageous tongue!" jeered Abyedok.
"Yes . . . You miser!" And Kuvalda looked at him
contemptuously. "What do you understand? What do you know? Are
you able to think? But I have thought and I have read . . .
books of which you could not have understood one word."
"Of course! One cannot eat soup out of one's hand . . . But
though you have read and thought, and I have not done that or
anything else, we both seem to have got into pretty much the same
condition, don't we?"
"Go to the Devil!" shouted Kuvalda. His conversations with
Abyedok always ended thus. When the teacher was absent his
speeches, as a rule, fell on the empty air, and received no
attention, and he knew this, but still he could not help
speaking. And now, having quarrelled with his companion, he felt
rather deserted; but, still longing for conversation, he turned
to Simtsoff with the following question: "And you, Aleksei
Maksimovitch, where will you lay your grey head?"
The old man smiled good-humouredly, rubbed his hands, and
replied, "I do not know . . . I will see. One does not require
much, just a little drink."
"Plain but honourable fare!" the Captain said. Simtsoff was
silent, only adding that he would find a place sooner than any of
them, because women loved him. This was true. The old man had,
as a rule, two or three prostitutes, who kept him on their very
scant earnings. They very often beat him, but he took this
stoically. They somehow never beat him too much, probably
because they pitied him. He was a great lover of women, and said
they were the cause of all his misfortunes. The character of his
relations towards them was confirmed by the appearance of his
clothes, which, as a rule, were tidy, and cleaner than those of
his companions. And now, sitting at the door of the dosshouse,
he boastingly related that for a long time past Redka had been
asking him to go and live with her, but he had not gone because
he did not want to part with the company. They heard this with
jealous interest. They all knew Redka. She lived very near the
town, almost below the mountain. Not long ago, she had been in
prison for theft. She was a retired nurse; a tall, stout peasant
woman, with a face marked by smallpox, but with very pretty,
though always drunken, eyes.
"Just look at the old devil!" swore Abyedok, looking at Simtsoff,
who was smiling in a self-satisfied way.
"And do you know why they love me? Because I know how to cheer
up their souls."
"Do you?" inquired Kuvalda.
"And I can make them pity me. . . . And a woman, when she
pities! Go and weep to her, and ask her to kill you . . . she
will pity you--and she will kill you."
"I feel inclined to commit a murder," declared Martyanoff,
laughing his dull laugh.
"Upon whom?" asked Abyedok, edging away from him.
"It's all the same to me . . . Petunikoff . . . Egorka . . . or
even you!"
"And why?" inquired Kuvalda.
"I want to go to Siberia . . . I have had enough of this vile
life . . . one learns how to live there!"
"Yes, they have a particularly good way of teaching in Siberia,"
agreed the Captain, sadly.
They spoke no more of Petunikoff, or of the turning out of the
inhabitants of the dosshouse. They all knew that they would have
to leave soon, therefore they did not think the matter worth
discussion. It would do no good, and besides the weather was not
very cold though the rains had begun . . . and it would be
possible to sleep on the ground anywhere outside the town. They
sat in a circle on the grass and conversed about all sorts of
things, discussing one subject after another, and listening
attentively even to the poor speakers in order to make the time
pass; keeping quiet was as dull as listening. This society of
"creatures that once were men" had one fine characteristic --no
one of them endeavoured to make out that he was better than the
others, nor compelled the others to acknowledge his superiority.
The August sun seemed to set their tatters on fire as they sat
with their backs and uncovered heads exposed to it . . . a
chaotic mixture of the vegetable, mineral, and animal kingdoms.
In the corners of the yard the tall steppe grass grew
luxuriantly. . . . Nothing else grew there but some dingy
vegetables, not even attractive to those who nearly always felt
the pangs of hunger.
* * * * *
The following was the scene that took place in Vaviloff's
eating-house.
Young Petunikoff entered slowly, took off his hat, looked around
him, and said to the eating-house keeper:
"Egor Terentievitch Vaviloff? Are you he?"
"I am," answered the sergeant, leaning on the bar with both arms
as if intending to jump over it.
"I have some business with you," said Petunikoff.
"Delighted. Please come this way to my private room."
They went in and sat down, the guest on the couch and his host on
the chair opposite to him. In one corner a lamp was burning
before a gigantic icon, and on the wall at the other side there
were several oil lamps. They were well kept and shone as if they
were new. The room, which contained a number of boxes and a
variety of furniture, smelt of tobacco, sour cabbage, and olive
oil. Petunikoff looked around him and made a face. Vaviloff
looked at the icon, and then they looked simultaneously at one
another, and both seemed to be favourably impressed. Petunikoff
liked Vaviloff's frankly thievish eyes, and Vaviloff was pleased
with the open, cold, determined face of Petunikoff, with its
large cheeks and white teeth.
"Of course you already know me, and I presume you guess what I am
going to say to you," began Petunikoff.
"About the lawsuit? . . . I presume?" remarked the ex-sergeant,
respectfully.
"Exactly! I am glad to see that you are not beating about the
bush, but going straight to the point like a business man," said
Petunikoff, encouragingly.
"I am a soldier," answered Vaviloff, with a modest air.
"That is easily seen, and I am sure we shall be able to finish
this job without much trouble."
"Just so."
"Good! You have the law on your side, and will, of course, win
your case. I want to tell you this at the very beginning."
"I thank you most humbly," said the sergeant, rubbing his eyes in
order to hide the smile in them.
"But tell me, why did you make the acquaintance of your future
neighbours like this through the law courts?"
Vaviloff shrugged his shoulders and did not answer.
"It would have been better to come straight to us and settle the
matter peacefully, eh? What do you think?"
"That would have been better, of course, but you see there is a
difficulty . . . I did not follow my own wishes, but those of
others . . . I learned afterwards that it would have been better
if . . . but it was too late."
"Oh! I suppose some lawyer taught you this?"
"Someone of that sort."
"Aha! Do you wish to settle the affair peacefully?"
"With all my heart!" cried the soldier.
Petunikoff was silent for a moment, then looked at him, and
suddenly asked, coldly and drily, "And why do you wish to do so?"
Vaviloff did not expect such a question, and therefore had no
reply ready. In his opinion the question was quite unworthy of
any attention, and so he laughed at young Petunikoff.
"That is easy to understand. Men like to live peacefully with
one another."
"But," interrupted Petunikoff, "that is not exactly the reason
why. As far as I can see, you do not distinctly understand why
you wish to be reconciled to us . . . I will tell you."
The soldier was a little surprised. This youngster, dressed in a
check suit, in which he looked ridiculous, spoke as if he were
Colonel Rakshin, who used to knock three of the unfortunate
soldier's teeth out every time he was angry.
"You want to be friends with us because we should be such useful
neighbours to you . . . because there will be not less than a
hundred and fifty workmen in our factory, and in course of time
even more. If a hundred men come and drink one glass at your
place, after receiving their weekly wages, that means that you
will sell every month four hundred glasses more than you sell at
present. This is, of course, the lowest estimate . . . and then
you have the eating-house besides. You are not a fool, and you
can understand for yourself what profitable neighbours we shall
be."
"That is true," Vaviloff nodded, "I knew that before."
"Well, what then?" asked the merchant, loudly.
"Nothing . . . Let us be friends!"
"It is nice to see that you have decided so quickly. Look here, I
have already prepared a notification to the court of the
withdrawal of the summons against my father. Here it is; read it,
and sign it."
Vaviloff looked at his companion with his round eyes and
shivered, as if experiencing an unpleasant sensation.
"Pardon me . . . sign it? And why?"
"There is no difficulty about it . . . write your Christian name
and surname and nothing more," explained Petunikoff, pointing
obligingly with his finger to the place for the signature.
"Oh! It is not that . . . I was alluding to the compensation I
was to get for my ground."
"But then this ground is of no use to you," said Petunikoff,
calmly.
"But it is mine!" exclaimed the soldier.
"Of course, and how much do you want for it?"
"Well, say the amount stated in the document," said Vaviloff,
boldly.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 | 4 |
5 |
6