"And might there have been one?" Shatov asked cautiously.

"You make me laugh, Shatushka, with your reasoning. There might have been one, but what of it, if it's the same as if there wasn't? There's an easy riddle for you—try and guess!" she smiled.

"Where did you take your baby?"

"To the pond," she sighed.

Shatov nudged me with his elbow again.

"And what if you never had any baby and all this is just raving, eh?"

"That's a hard question you're asking me, Shatushka," she replied pensively, and without being the least surprised at such a question. "I'll tell you nothing on that account, maybe there wasn't any; I think it's just your curiosity; but anyway I won't stop weeping over him, I didn't just see it in a dream, did I?" And big tears shone in her eyes. "Shatushka, Shatushka, is it true that your wife ran away from you?" She suddenly put both hands on his shoulders and looked at him with pity. "Don't be angry, I feel wretched myself. You know, Shatushka, I had such a dream: he comes to me again, beckons to me, calls me. 'Kitty,' he says, 'here, kitty, come out to me!' I was glad of that 'kitty' most of all: he loves me, I thought."^[61]

"Maybe he really will come," Shatov muttered under his breath.

"No, Shatushka, it's a dream ... he won't really come. Do you know the song:

I need no high new house, I'll keep to this little cell. Saving my soul I'll be, And praying to God for thee.^[62]

"Ah, Shatushka, Shatushka, my dear, why do you never ask me about anything?"

"But you won't tell, that's why I don't ask."

"I won't tell, I won't tell, put a knife into me, but I won't tell," she chimed in quickly, "burn me, but I won't tell. And however much I suffer, I won't say anything, people will never find out!"

"So you see, to each his own," Shatov said even more softly, bowing his head more and more.

"But if you asked, maybe I'd tell you; maybe I'd tell you!" she repeated rapturously. "Why won't you ask? Ask me, ask me well, Shatushka, and maybe I'll tell you; beg me, Shatushka, so that I myself consent... Shatushka, Shatushka!"

But Shatushka was silent; the general silence lasted for about a minute. Tears quietly flowed down her white made-up cheeks; she sat with both hands forgotten on Shatov's shoulders, but no longer looking at him.

"Eh, what do I care about you, it's even sinful," Shatov suddenly got up from the bench. "Get yourself up!" he angrily jerked the bench out from under me, took it and put it back where it had been.

"So that he won't guess when he comes back; and it's time we left."

"Ah, you're still talking about my lackey!" Marya Timofeevna suddenly laughed. "You're afraid! Well, good-bye, dear guests; only listen for a moment to what I'm going to tell you. Today this Nilych came here with Filippov, the landlord, the big red-beard, just as my man was flying at me. The landlord, he grabbed him, he dragged him across the room, and my man was shouting: 'It's not my fault, I'm suffering for someone else's fault!' And would you believe it, we all just fell down laughing right there..."

"Eh, Timofevna, it was me, not the red-beard, I pulled him away from you by the hair; and the landlord came the day before yesterday to have a row with you, you've got it all mixed up."

"Wait, I really did mix it up, maybe it was you. Well, why argue over trifles; isn't it all the same for him who pulls his hair?" she laughed.

"Let's go," Shatov suddenly tugged my arm, "the gate is creaking; if he finds us here, he'll beat her."

Before we had time to run up the stairs, there came a drunken shout from the gateway and a flood of curses. Shatov let me into his room and locked the door.

"You'll have to sit here for a moment, if you don't want to get into some whole story. Just listen to him squealing like a pig, he must have stumbled over the sill; he goes sprawling every time."

However, we did not get away without a story.

VI

Shatov stood at his locked door and listened down the stairs; suddenly he jumped back.

"He's coming here, I just knew it!" he whispered furiously. "Now he won't leave us alone before midnight."

There came several heavy thumps of a fist on the door. "Shatov, Shatov, open up!" yelled the captain. "Shatov, my friend! ...

I have come to you with greeting, To tell you that the sun has r-r-risen, And that its hot light down is beating

Upon the... for-r-rest ... as it glistens, To tell you that I have awakened, devil take you, All awa-a-akened 'neath... the boughs...

Just like 'neath the blows, ha, ha!

And every bird ... is stirred... with thirst, To tell you I will dr-r-rink my fill, Drink... lord knows what, but dr-r-rink my fill.^[63]

So, devil take this foolish curiosity! Shatov, do you understand how good it is to live in the world!"

"Don't answer!" Shatov whispered to me again.

"Open up now! Do you understand that there's something higher than fistfights... among mankind; there are moments of a no-o-oble person... I'm kind, Shatov; I'll forgive you... To hell with tracts, eh, Shatov?"

Silence.

"Do you understand, you ass, that I'm in love, I've bought a tailcoat, look, a tailcoat of love, fifteen roubles; a captain's love calls for social decency... Open up!" he suddenly bellowed wildly, and again pounded violently with his fists.

"Go to hell!" Shatov suddenly bellowed back.

"Ser-r-rf! Slave! And your sister is a ser-r-rf and a slave woman ... a thief!"

"And you, you sold your sister."

"Lies! I'm a victim of slander, though... with one explanation I could ... do you understand who she is?"

"Who is she?" Shatov, curious, suddenly went up to the door.

"But do you understand?"

"I will, just tell me who she is!"

"I dare to tell! I always dare to tell everything among the public! ..."

"Well, that's hardly true," Shatov taunted him and motioned for me to listen.

"I don't dare?"

"I say you don't."

"I don't dare?"

"Go on, speak, if you're not afraid of the master's rod... You're a coward, captain or no!"

"I... I... she... she's..." the captain babbled in a trembling, agitated voice.

"Well?" Shatov put his ear to the door.

There was silence for at least half a minute.

"Sco-o-oundrel!" finally came from beyond the door, and the captain quickly retreated down the stairs, puffing like a samovar and stumbling noisily on each step.

"No, he's cunning, he won't let it out even when he's drunk," Shatov stepped away from the door.

"But what is all this?" I asked.

Shatov waved his hand, opened the door, and again began to listen down the stairs; he listened for a long time, he even went quietly down a few steps. Finally he came back.

"I don't hear anything, there was no fight; he must have dropped off at once. It's time for you to go."

"Listen, Shatov, what am I to conclude from all that?"

"Eh, conclude whatever you like," he answered in a weary and disgusted voice, and sat down at his desk.

I left. An incredible idea was growing stronger and stronger in my imagination. In anguish I thought of the next day...