SaninMikhailPetrovichArtsybashev

(Translator:PercyE.Pinkerton)

Published:1907

Categorie(s):Fiction,LiterarySource:http://gutenberg.org

AboutArtsybashev:Mikhail Petrovich

Artsybashev (October 24OldStyle1878-March3,1927) was a leadingexponentofNaturalisminthe Russian literature.Artsybashev was born inkhutor Dubroslavovka,Akhtyrka uezd, Kharkovgubernia (currentlyUkraine). He studied in

Kharkov School ofDrawing and Art (1897 -1898). In 1898 moved toSaint Petersburg, wherelived as a freelancejournalist. His first majorpublication was storyMeeting published in1901. He considered hisnovel Death of Lande(1904)tobehisbestwork,but themajorsuccesswas

the novel Sanin (1907),which scandalized theVictoriantastesofRussianpublic andwas prohibitedin many countries. Theprotagonist of the novelignores all socialconventions andspecializes in seducinginnocent country girls. Inonenotoriousscene,agirltriestowashembarrassing

white stains off her dressafter a sexual intercoursewith Sanin. In 1923 hereceivedPolishcitizenship(his mother was a Pole)and emigrated to Poland,whereheeditednewspaperFor Liberty!.Artzybashevwas known as anirreconcilable enemy ofbolshevik regime, andSoviet critics dubbed the

novels of his followerssaninstvo andartsybashevchina.He diedin Warsaw on March 31927. MikhailArtsybashev is the fatherof Boris Artzybasheff,who emigrated to theUnited States and becamefamous as an illustrator.Source:WikipediaAlsoavailableon

FeedbooksArtsybashev:

TheRevolutionist(1915)

Copyright:ThisworkisavailableforcountrieswherecopyrightisLife+70andintheUSA.Note:ThisbookisbroughttoyoubyFeedbooks

http://www.feedbooks.comStrictlyforpersonaluse,donotusethisfileforcommercialpurposes.

Preface

"Sanine" is a thoroughlyuncomfortablebook,butithas a fierce energywhichhas carried it in a veryshort space of time intoalmost every country inEurope and at last intothiscountry,wherebooks,like everything else, areexpected to be

comfortable.IthasrousedfurybothinRussiaandinGermany, but, beingrather a furious effortitself, it has thriven onthat, and reached anenormous success. That isnot necessarily testimonyof a book's value or evenof itspower.On theotherhand, no book becomesinternationalmerelybyits

capacity for shockingmoralprejudices,orbyitsability to titillate thecuriosity of the senses.Every nation has its ownwriterswhocanshockandtitillate. But not everynation has the torment ofits existence coming tosuch a crisis that bookslike"Sanine"canspringtolife in it. This book was

written in the despairwhich seized theIntelligenzia of Russiaafter the last abortiverevolution, when theConstitutionwhichwasnoconstitution was wrungout of the grand dukes.Even suppose therevolution had succeeded,theintellectualsmusthaveasked themselves, even

supposetheyhadmasteredthe grand dukes andcaptured the army, wouldthey have donemore thanaltered the machinery ofgovernment, reduced thequantity of politicalinjustice, amended theprinciplesoftaxation,andpossibly changed thecolours of the postagestamps? Could they have

made society lessoppressive to the life ofthe individual? Like allintellectuals, M.Artzibashef is fascinatedby the brutality of humanlife,andfilledwithhatredofhisowndisgustatit.Aswith all artists, it isnecessaryforhimtoshakefreeofhisowndisgust,ortherewillbeanendofhis

art. Intellectual and anartist,lessartistforbeingintellectual,responding tothe despairing mood ofthose around him, itbecame clear to him thatpolitical agitation hadfailed and must failbecause it has a vision ofgovernment and no visionof human life. Society isfactitious.The intellectual

askswhy.Theartistneverasks these absurdquestions.Artisfree.Ifhecan attain art that isenough for him. Life,whether or no it be theslow process of evolutionitisgenerallysupposedtobe,cananddoeslookafteritself. Society is certainlya nuisance and a heavydrag upon human energy,

butsolongasthatenergycan express itself in art,society cannot bealtogether obstructive.That,saystheintellectual,is well enough for theartist, but what of theindividuals to whom artcanonlybeatbestakeenstimulus, at worst adrugging pleasure? Is thedead weight of society

altogether to crush theirdelight in life? What issociety?Whatisitbuttheaccumulated emanationsof the fear and timidityand shyness that besethuman beings wheneverthey are gatheredtogether? And to thisaccumulation are thosewho are not artists tobringnothingbutfearand

shyness and timidity tomake theshadowover lifegrow denser and darker?Istheretobenoreaction?How can there beindividuals worthy ofbeingaliveexceptthroughreaction? And how canthere be good governmentunless there are goodindividualstobegovernedindividuals in fine,

worthyofbeinggoverned?In the matters of being

fed, clothed, and housedfew men and women feelthe hindrance of society.Indeed it is for thosepurposes that they aregathered together. Beingso,itisthenthattheirfearand shyness and timiditymake them disguise theirreal natures and suppress

their other desires andaspirations. It is in thematter of love that menand women feel society'soppression, submit to itand; set up theirsubjection as the rulewhich must be obeyed.Very rarely is it obeyedexcept by a few virtuouswomen who go throughlife coldly and

destructively, driving themenwithwhomtheycomeincontactintothearmsoftheir more generoussisters.Womenhavefewerdefences against thetyranny of society, whichmakes all but a very feweitherprostitutesorprigs,exploiting theirwomanhood in emotionaland physical excitement,

their motherhood todefend themselves andtheir self-respect from theconsequences of thatindulgence. Men are ofharderstuff.Someofthemcan escape into theintellectual life; manypreserve only theirpracticalcunningand, forthe rest, are insensibleand stupid and fill their

lives with small pleasuresand trifling discontents,andfeedtheirconceitwithsuccess or failure as theyhappen.In Vladimir Saline

Artzibashef has imagined,postulated,amanwhohasescaped the tyranny ofsociety, is content to takehis living where he findsit, and determined to

acceptwhateverlifehastooffer of joy or sorrow.Returning to his home, heobserves and amuseshimself with all that isgoing on in the littleprovincial garrison town,where men and womenexcept his mother, who isfrozen to the point ofliving altogether byformulaare tormented

by the exasperation ofunsatisfied desires. HeseesNovikoffabsurdlyandhopelesslyinlovewithhissister, Lida; he sees Lidacaught up in an intriguewith an expert soldierlove-maker, and bound,bothbyherownweaknessand by her dependenceupon society for anyopinion of her own

actions,tocontinueinthathatefulexcitement;heseesmenandwomenall roundhim letting their love andtheir desire tricklethrough their fingers; hesees Semenoff die, anddeath also in thatatmosphereisblurredandmeaningless. Men andwomen plunge intohorrible relationships and

constantly excusethemselves. They seek topropitiate society bylabouring to givepermanence to fleetingpleasures,theaccidentsofpassion and propinquity.Love is rare; physicalnecessityiscommontoallmen and women; it isabsurd to expect thegrowthof theoneand the

satisfaction of the otheroften to coincide. Natureis apparently indifferentanddoesnotdemand loveof human beings but onlymutual attraction, and ofthat are most childrenborn. They grow up todwell in the heatedconfusionwhichpassesforlife. Of that mutualattraction and in that

heated confusion twochildren are born in thisbook, Lida's andSarudine's, Sanine's andKarsavina's.LidayieldstoSociety's view of suchaffairsand isnearbrokenby it; Sanine sustainsKarsavina and brings herto the idea, cherished byThomas Hardy amongothers, as a way out of

confusion, of a woman'sright to have a childwithout suffering fromimpertinentcuriosityastowho the father may be ifhebe such that she thinksherself better rid of him.This does not necessarilymeanthatwomenwouldatoncebecomeas looseandcasual as men. On thecontrary, it would

probably make many ofthem realize theirresponsibilityandfewerofthem would capture menasArabellacapturedJudethe Obscure. In any casethere is no excuse for thecruelty which regards achild born out of wedlockasnothingbutevidenceofwickedness. A child bornin wedlock may be as

lustfully and lovelesslybegotten. Marriage doesnot necessarily providerelief from physicalnecessity and oftenaggravates it;andwhenachild,asoftenhappens, isnothing to its father andmother but a sordid tie, aconstant reminder of aconnexion which bothwould be happier to

forget, then, for its sake,theyarebetterseparate.It has been objected to

M.Artzibashef'sworkthatit deals so littlewith loveandsomuchwithphysicalnecessity. That arises, Ifancy, because hisjournalistic intention hasoverridden his artisticpurpose. He has beenexasperatedintofrankness

more thanmoved to truth.He has desired to laycertain facts of modernexistencebeforetheworldandhasdonesoinaformwhich could gain ahearing,asapureworkofartprobablycouldnot.Hehas attempted a re-valuationwhere it ismostneeded, where theunhappyWeiningerfailed.

Weininger demanded,insanely, that humanityshould renounce sex andthe brutality it fosters;Artzibashef suggests thatthe brutishness should beaccepted frankly, clearedofconfusionwithlove,andslowly mastered so thatout of passion love cangrow. His book has thenoblequalityofbeing full

oftheloveoflife,howeverloveless. It cannotpossibly give the kind ofpleasure sought by thosetowhomeven theBible isa dirty book. It is toobrutal for that. Bookswhichpandertothatmeandesireareofallbooksthemost injurious.But this isnotoneofthem.GILBERTCANNAN

1Chapter

That important period inhis life when character isinfluenced and formed byits first contact with theworld and with men, was

not spent by VladimirSanine at home, with hisparents. There had beennone to guard or guidehim; and his souldeveloped in perfectfreedom andindependence, just as atreeinthefield.Hehadbeenawayfrom

homeformanyyears,and,when he returned, his

motherandhissisterLidascarcely recognized him.His features, voice, andmanner had changed butlittle, yet somethingstrangeandnew,andriperin his whole personalitygave a light to hiscountenance and endowedit with an alteredexpression. It was in theevening that he came

home, entering the roomasquietlyasifhehadonlyleftitfiveminutesbefore.As he stood there, tall,fair, and broad-shouldered, his calm facewith its slightly mockingexpression at the cornersofthemouthshowednotasign of fatigue or ofemotion, and theboisterous greeting of his

motherandsistersubsidedofitself.While he was eating,

and drinking tea, hissister, sitting opposite,gazed steadfastly at him.Shewasinlovewithhim,as most romantic girlsusually are with theirabsent brother. Lida hadalwaysimaginedVladimirto be an extraordinary

person, as strange as anyto be found in books. Shepicturedhis life asoneoftragic conflict, sad andlonely as that of somegreat, uncomprehendedsoul."Whydoyoulookatme

like that?" asked Sanine,smiling.This quiet smile and

searching glance formed

his usual expression, but,strangetosay,theydidnotplease Lida. To her, theyseemed self- complacent,revealing nought ofspiritual suffering andstrife. She looked awayand was silent. Then,mechanically, she keptturningoverthepagesofabook.When the meal was at

an end, Sanine's motherpatted his headaffectionately,andsaid:"Now, tell us all about

yourlife,andwhatyoudidthere.""What I did?" said

Sanine, laughing. "Well, Iate, and drank, and slept;and sometimes I worked;and sometimes I didnothing!"

It seemed at first as ifhewereunwillingtospeakof himself, but when hismother questioned himabout this or that, heappeared pleased tonarrate his experiences.Yet, for some reason orother,onefelt thathewaswholly indifferent as tothe impression producedby his tales. His manner,

kindly and courteousthough it was in no waysuggested that intimacywhich only exists amongmembers of a family.Such kindliness andcourtesy seemed to comenaturally from him as thelight from a lamp whichshineswithequalradianceonallobjects.They went out to the

garden terrace and satdown on the steps. Lidasat on a lower one,listening in silence to herbrother. At her heart shefeltanicychill.Hersubtlefeminine instinct told herthat her brother was notwhat she had imaginedhimtobe. Inhispresenceshe felt shy andembarrassed,asifhewere

a stranger. It was nowevening; faint shadowsencircled them. Sanine litacigaretteandthedelicateodour of tobaccomingledwith the fragrance of thegarden.He told themhowlife had tossed him hitherand thither; how he hadoften been hungry and avagrant;howhehadtakenpart in political struggles,

and how, when weary, hehadrenouncedthese.Lida sat motionless,

listening attentively, andlooking as quaint andpretty as any charminggirlwouldlookinsummertwilight.The more he told her,

the more she becameconvinced that this lifewhich shehadpainted for

herself in such glowingcolours was really mostsimple and commonplace.There was somethingstrangeinitaswell.Whatwasit?Thatshecouldnotdefine. At any rate, fromher brother's account, itseemedtoherverysimple,tedious and boring.Apparently he had livedjust anywhere, and had

done just anything; atworkoneday,andidlethenext;itwasalsoplainthathe liked drinking, andknew a good deal aboutwomen. But life such asthis had nothing dark orsinisteraboutit;innowaydiditresemblethelifesheimagined her brother hadled. He had no ideas tolive for; he hated no one;

and for no one had hesuffered. At some of hisdisclosures she waspositively annoyed,especially when he toldher that once, being veryhardup,hewasobligedtomend his torn trousershimself."Why, do you know

how to sew?" she askedinvoluntarily, in a tone of

surprise and contempt.She thought it paltry;unmanly,infact."Ididnotknowatfirst,

but I soon had to learn,"replied Sanine, whosmilingly guessed whathissisterthought.The girl carelessly

shrugged her shoulders,and remained silent,gazing at the garden. It

seemed to her as if,dreamingof sunshine, sheawoke beneath a grey,coldsky.Her mother, too, felt

depressed.Itpainedhertothink that her son did notoccupy the position towhich, socially, he wasentitled. She began bytelling him that thingscould not go on like this,

and that hemust bemoresensible in future.At firstshe spoke warily, butwhenshesawthathepaidscarcely any attention toher remarks, she grewangry, and obstinatelyinsisted, as stupid oldwomen do, thinking herson was trying to teaseher. Sanine was neithersurprised nor annoyed: he

hardly seemed tounderstand what she said,but looked amiablyindifferent,andwassilent.Yet at the question,

"How do you propose tolive?" he answered,smiling,"Oh!somehoworother."His calm, firm voice,

andopenglancemadeonefeel that those words,

which meant nothing tohismother, had for him adeep and precisesignificance.Maria Ivanovna sighed,

and after a pause saidanxiously:"Well,afterall,it'syour

affair.You're no longer achild. You ought to walkround the garden. It'slookingsoprettynow."

"Yes, of course! Comealong, Lida; come andshowmethegarden,"saidSanine to his sister, "Ihave quite forgotten whatitlookslike."Roused from her

reverie, Lida sighed andgot up. Side by side theywalked down the pathleadingtothegreendepthsoftheduskygarden.

TheSanines' housewasin the main street of thetown, and, the townbeingsmall, their gardenextended as far as theriver, beyond which werefields. The house was anold mansion, with ricketypillarsoneithersideandabroad terrace. The largegloomygardenhad run towaste;itlookedlikesome

dull green cloud that haddescended to earth. Atnightitseemedhaunted.Itwas as if some sad spiritwere wandering throughthe tangled thicket, orrestlesslypacingthedustyfloors of the old edifice.On the first floor therewas an entire suite ofempty rooms dismal withfaded carpets and dingy

curtains. Through thegarden there was but onenarrow path or alley,strewnwithdeadbranchesand crushed frogs. Whatmodest, tranquil life therewasappearedtobecentredinonecorner.There,closeto the house, yellow sandand gravel gleamed, andthere, beside neat flower-beds bright with blossom

stood the green table onwhichinsummer-timeteaor lunch was set. Thislittle corner, touched bythe breath of simplepeacefullife,wasinsharpcontrast to the huge,desertedmansion,doomedtoinevitabledecay.When the house behind

them had disappearedfrom view and the silent,

motionless trees, likethoughtful witnesses,surrounded them, Saninesuddenly put his armround Lida's waist andsaidinastrangetone,halffierce,halftender:"You'vebecomequitea

beauty!Thefirstmanyoulove will be a happyfellow."The touch of his arm

with its muscles like ironsent a fiery thrill throughLida's soft, supple frame.Bashfulandtrembling,shedrewawayfromhimas ifat the approach of someunseenbeastofprey.They had now reached

theriver'sedge.Therewasamoist,dampodourfromthe reeds that swayedpensively in the stream.

On the other side, fieldslay dim in twilightbeneaththevastskywhereshonethefirstpalestars.Stepping aside, Sanine

seized a withered branch,broke it in two, and flungthe pieces into the streamwhere swiftly circlesappeared on its surfaceandswiftlyvanished.Asifto hail Sanine as their

comrade, the reeds benttheirheads.

2Chapter

It was about six o'clock.The sun still shonebrightly,butinthegardenthere were already faintgreen shadows. The air

was full of light andwarmth and peace. MariaIvanovnawasmakingjam,and under the greenlinden-tree there was astrong smell of boilingsugar and raspberries.Sanine had been busy atthe flower-beds all themorning, trying to revivesome of the flowers thatsuffered most from the

dustandheat."Youhadbetterpullup

theweedsfirst,"suggestedhis mother, as from timeto time she watched himthrough the blue,quivering stream. "TellGrounjka, and she'll do itforyou."Sanine looked up, hot

and smiling. "Why?" saidhe, as he tossed back his

hairthatclungtohisbrow."Let them grow as muchas they like. I am fondofeverythinggreen.""You're a funny

fellow!" said his mother,as she shrugged hershoulders, good-humouredly. For somereasonorother,hisanswerhadpleasedher."It is you yourselves

that are funny," saidSanine, in a tone ofconviction. He then wentintothehousetowashhishands, and, coming back,sat down at his ease in awicker arm-chair near thetable. He felt happy, andin a good temper. Theverdure, the sunlight andthe blue sky filled himwithakeenersenseof the

joy of life. Large townswith their bustle and dinwere to him detestable.Aroundhimweresunlightand freedom; the futuregave him no anxiety; forhewasdisposed to acceptfromlifewhateveritcouldofferhim.Sanine shuthiseyes tight, and stretchedhimself;thetensionofhissound, strong muscles

gave him pleasurablethrills.A gentle breeze was

blowing. The wholegarden seemed to sigh.Here and there, sparrowschattered noisily abouttheir intensely importantbut incomprehensiblelittle lives, and Mill, thefox-terrier,withearserectandredtonguelollingout,

lay in the long grass,listening. The leaveswhispered softly; theirround shadows quiveredonthesmoothgravelpath.Maria Ivanovna was

vexed at her son'scalmness.Shewasfondofhim, just as shewas fondofallherchildren,andforthat very reason shelonged to rouse him, to

wound his self-respect, ifonly to force him to heedher words and accept herviewoflife.Likeanantinthe sand, she hademployed every momentof a long existence inbuilding up the frailstructure of her domesticwell-being. It was a long,bare, monotonous edifice,like a barrack or a

hospital, built withcountless little bricks thatto her, as an incompetentarchitect, constituted thegraces of life, though infact they were pettyworries that kept her in aperpetualstateofirritationorofanxiety."Doyou suppose things

will go on like this, lateron?" she said, with lips

compressed, and feigningintense interest in theboilingjam."What do youmean by

'later on'?" asked Sanine,andthensneezed.MariaIvanovnathought

that he had sneezed onpurposetoannoyher,and,absurd though such anotionwas,lookedcross."How nice it is to be

here, with you!" saidSanine,dreamily."Yes, it's not so bad,"

she answered, drily. Shewassecretlypleasedatherson's praise of the houseand garden that to herwereaslifelongkinsfolk.Sanine looked at her,

and then said,thoughtfully:"Ifyoudidn'tbotherme

with all sorts of sillythings, it would be nicerstill."Theblandtoneinwhich

these words were spokenseemed at variance withtheir meaning, so thatMaria Ivanovna did notknowwhethertobevexedoramused."To look at you, and

then to think that, as a

child, you were alwaysrather odd," said she,sadly,"andnow""And now?" exclaimed

Sanine, gleefully, as if heexpected to hearsomething speciallypleasantandinteresting."Now you are more

crazy than ever!" saidMaria Ivanovna sharply,shakingherspoon.

"Well, all the better!"said Sanine, laughing.After a pause, he added,"Ah!here'sNovikoff!"Outofthehousecamea

tall, fair, good-lookingman. His red silk shirt,fitting tight to his well-proportioned frame,lookedbrilliantinthesun;his pale blue eyes had alazy, good-natured

expression."There you go!Always

quarrelling!" said he, in alanguid, friendly tone."And in Heaven's name,whatabout?""Well, the fact is,

mother thinks that aGrecian nose would suitme better, while I amquite satisfied with theonethatIhavegot."

Sanine lookeddownhisnose and, laughing,grasped the other's big,softhand."So, I should say!"

exclaimed MariaIvanovna,pettishly.Novikoff laughed

merrily; and from thegreen thicket, came agentle echo in reply, as ifsomeoneyonderheartily;

sharedhismirth."Ah! I knowwhat it is!

Worrying about yourfuture.""What, you, too?"

exclaimed Sanine, incomicalarm."It just serves you

right.""Ah!" cried Sanine. "If

it'sacaseoftwotoone,Ihadbetterclearout."

"No, it is I that willsoon have to clear out,"saidMaria Ivanovna withsudden irritation at whichshe herself was vexed.Hastily removing hersaucepan of jam, shehurried into the house,without lookingback.Theterrier jumped up, andwith ears erect watchedher go. Then it rubbed its

nose with its front paw,gave another questioningglance at the house andranoffintothegarden."Have you got any

cigarettes?" asked Sanine,delighted at his mother'sdeparture.Novikoff with a lazy

movement of his largebodyproducedacigarette-case.

"Yououghtnot to teaseherso,"saidhe,inavoiceof gentle reproof. "She'sanoldlady.""How have I teased

her?""Well,yousee""What do youmean by

'well, you see?' It is shewho is always afterme. Ihaveneveraskedanythingof anybody, and therefore

people ought to leave mealone."Bothremainedsilent."Well, how goes it,

doctor?" asked Sanine, ashe watched the tobacco-smoke rising in fantasticcurvesabovehishead.Novikoff, who was

thinking of somethingelse, did not answer atonce.

"Badly.""Inwhatway?""Oh! in every way.

Everything is so dull andthislittletownboresmetodeath. There's nothing todo.""Nothing todo?Why it

was you that complainedof not having time tobreathe!""That is not what I

mean.Onecan'tbealwaysseeing patients, seeingpatients. There is anotherlifebesidesthat.""Andwho prevents you

from living that otherlife?""That is rather a

complicatedquestion.""In what way is it

complicated? You are ayoung, good-looking,

healthy man; what moredoyouwant?""In my opinion that is

not enough," repliedNovikoff,withmildirony."Really!" laughed

Sanine."Well,Ithinkitisaverygreatdeal.""But not enough for

me," said Novikoff,laughinginhisturn.Itwasplain thatSanine's remark

about his health and goodlooks had pleased him,and yet it had made himfeelshyasagirl."There's one thing that

you want," said Sanine,pensively."Andwhatisthat?""A just conception of

life. The monotony ofyour existence oppressesyou; and yet, if some one

advised you to give it allup, and go straight awayinto the wide world, youwouldbeafraidtodoso.""And as what should I

go?Asabeggar?H..m!""Yes,asabeggar,even!

When I look at you, Ithink: there is amanwhoin order to give theRussian Empire aconstitution would let

himself be shut up inSchlusselburg [Footnote:A fortress for politicalprisoners.] for the rest ofhis life, losing all hisrights, and his liberty aswell. After all, what is aconstitution to him? Butwhen it is a question ofaltering his own tediousmodeoflife,andofgoingelsewhere to find new

interests, he at once asks,'howshouldIgetaliving?Strong and healthy as Iam, should I not come togrief if I had not got myfixed salary, andconsequentlycreaminmytea, my silk shirts, stand-upcollars,andall therestof it?' It'sfunny,uponmyworditis!""I cannot see anything

funny in it at all. In thefirstcase,itisthequestionof a cause, an idea,whereasintheother""Well?""Oh! I don't know how

to express myself!" AndNovikoff snapped hisfingers."There now!" said

Sanine, interrupting."That's how you always

evade the point. I shallnever believe that thelonging for a constitutionisstrongerinyouthanthelonging tomake themostofyourownlife.""Thatis justaquestion.

Possiblyitis."Saninewaved his hand,

irritably."Oh! don't, please! If

somebodywere to cut off

your finger, you wouldfeelitmorethanifitweresome other Russian'sfinger.Thatisafact,eh?""Or a cynicism," said

Novikoff, meaning to besarcastic when he wasmerelyfoolish."Possibly. But, all the

same, it is the truth.Andnow though inRussia andinmanyotherStatesthere

is no constitution, nor theslightest sign of one, it isyour own unsatisfactorylife that worries you, notthe absence of aconstitution. And if yousay it isn't, then you'retelling a lie. What ismore,"addedSanine,witha merry twinkle in hiseyes,"youareworriednotabout your life but

because Lida has not yetfallen in love with you.Now,isn'tthatso?""What utter nonsense

you're talking!" criedNovikoff,turningasredashis silk shirt.Soconfusedwas he, that tears rose tohiscalm,kindlyeyes."How is it nonsense,

whenbesidesLidayoucansee nothing else in the

wholeworld?Thewish topossess her is written inlarge letters on yourbrow."Novikoff winced

perceptibly and began towalk rapidlyupanddownthe path. If anyone butLida's brother had spokentohiminthiswayitwouldhave pained him deeply,but to hear such words

from Sanine's mouthamazed him; in fact atfirst he scarcelyunderstoodthem."Look here," he

muttered, "either you areposing,orelse""Or elsewhat?" asked

Sanine,smiling.Novikoff looked aside,

shrugged his shoulders,and was silent. The other

inference led him toregard Sanine as animmoral,badman.Buthecouldnottellhimthis,for,ever since their collegedays, he had always feltsincere affection for him,anditseemedtoNovikoffimpossible that he shouldhavechosenawickedmanashisfriend.Theeffectonhis mind was at once

bewildering andunpleasant.TheallusiontoLida pained him, but, asthe goddess whom headored, he could not feelangry with Sanine forspeakingofher.Itpleasedhim, and yet he felt hurt,as if a burning hand hadseized his heart and hadgentlypressedit.Sanine was silent, and

smiledgood-humouredly.Afterapausehesaid:"Well, finish your

statement; I am in nohurry!"Novikoff kept walking

up and down the path, asbefore. He was evidentlyhurt. At this moment theterrier came running backexcitedly and rubbedagainst Sanine's knees, as

ifwishful toleteveryoneknowhowpleasedhewas."Good dog!" said

Sanine,pattinghim.Novikoff strove to

avoid continuing thediscussion, being afraidthatSaninemightreturntothe subject which forpersonally was the mostinteresting in the wholeworld. Anything that did

not concern Lida seemedletohimdull."Andwhere is Lidia

Petrovna?" he askedmechanically, albeit lothto utter the question thatwas uppermost in hismind."Lida? Where should

she be? Walking withofficers on the boulevard,whereallouryoungladies

aretobefoundatthistimeofday."A look of jealousy

darkened his face, asNovikoffasked:"How can a girl so

clever and cultivated asshe waste her time withsuch empty-headedfools?""Oh! my friend,"

exclaimed Sanine,

smiling, "Lida ishandsome,andyoung,andhealthy, just as you are;more so, in fact, becauseshe has that which youlackkeen desire foreverything. She wants toknow everything, toexperience everythingwhy, here she comes!You'veonlygottolookather to understand that.

Isn'tshepretty?"Lida was shorter and

much handsomer than herbrother. Sweetnesscombined with supplestrengthgavetoherwholepersonality charm anddistinction. There was ahaughty look in her darkeyes, and her voice, ofwhich she was proud,sounded richandmusical.

She walked slowly downthesteps,movingwiththelithe grace of athoroughbred, whileadroitly holding up herlong grey dress. Behindher, clinking their spurs,came two good-lookingyoung officers in tightly-fitting riding- breechesandshiningtop-boots."Whoispretty?IsitI?"

asked Lida, as she filledthewholegardenwith thecharm of her voice, herbeautyandheryouth.Shegave Novikoff her hand,with a side-glance at herbrother, about whoseattitude she did not feelquiteclear,neverknowingwhether he was joking orin earnest. Grasping herhand tightly, Novikoff

grew very red, but hisemotions were unnoticedby Lida, used as she wasto his reverent, bashfulglance thatnever troubledher."Good evening,

VladimirPetrovitch," saidthe elder, handsomer andfairer of the two officers,rigid, erect as a spiritedstallion, while his spurs

clinkednoisily.Sanine knew him to be

Sarudine, a captain ofcavalry, one of Lida'smost persistent admirers.The other was LieutenantTanaroff, who regardedSarudine as the idealsoldier,andstrovetocopyeverythinghedid.Hewastaciturn, somewhatclumsy, and not so good-

looking as Sarudine.Tanaroff rattled his spursin his turn, but saidnothing."Yes, you!" replied

Sanine to his sister,gravely."Why, of course I am

pretty. You should havesaidindescribablypretty!"And, laughing gaily, Lidasankintoachair,glancing

again at Sanine. Raisingher arms and thusemphasizing thecurvesofher shapely bosom, sheproceeded to remove herhat,but, in sodoing, letalong hat-pin fall on thegravel, and her veil andhairbecamedisarranged."Andrei Pavlovitch, do

please help me!" sheplaintively cried to the

taciturnlieutenant."Yes, she's a beauty!"

murmured Sanine,thinking aloud, and nevertaking his eyes off her.Once more Lida glancedshylyatherbrother."We're all of us

beautifulhere,"saidshe."What'sthat?Beautiful?

Ha! Ha!" laughedSarudine, showing his

white, shining teeth. "Weareatbestbut themodestframe that serves toheighten the dazzlingsplendourofyourbeauty.""I say, what eloquence,

to be sure!" exclaimedSanine, in surprise. Therewasaslightshadeofironyinhistone."Lidia Petrovna would

make anybody eloquent,"

saidTanaroffthesilent,ashe tried to help Lida totakeoffherhat,and insodoingruffledherhair.Shepretended to be vexed,laughingallthewhile."What?" drawled

Sanine."Areyoueloquenttoo?""Oh! let them be!"

whispered Novikoff,hypocritically, though

secretlypleased.LidafrownedatSanine,

to whom her dark eyesplainlysaid:"Don't imagine that I

cannot see what thesepeople are. I intend topleasemyself. I am not afool any more than youare,andIknowwhatIamabout."Saninesmiledather.

At last the hat wasremoved, which Tanaroffsolemnly placed on thetable."Look! Look what

you'vedonetome,AndreiPavlovitch!" cried Lidahalf peevishly, halfcoquettishly. "You've gotmyhairintosuchatangle!Now I shall have to goindoors."

"I'm so awfully sorry!"stammered Tanaroff, inconfusion.Lida rose, gathered up

herskirts,andranindoorslaughing, followed by theglances of all the men.When she had gone theyseemed to breathe morefreely, without thatnervous sense of restraintwhich men usually

experienceinthepresenceof a pretty youngwoman.Sarudine lighted acigarettewhichhesmokedwith evident gusto. Onefelt, when he spoke, thathehabituallytooktheleadinaconversation,andthatwhat he thought wassomething quite differentfromwhathesaid."I have just been

persuadingLidiaPetrovnatostudysingingseriously.With such a voice, hercareerisassured.""Afinecareer,uponmy

word!" sullenly rejoinedNovikoff,lookingaside."What is wrong with

it?" asked Sarudine, ingenuine amazement,removing the cigarettefromhislips.

"Why, what's anactress?Nothingelsebutaharlot!" replied Novikoff,withsuddenheat.Jealousytortured him; the thoughtthat the young womanwhose body he lovedcould appear before othermen in an alluring dressthat would exhibit hercharms in order toprovoketheirpassions.

"Surely it is going toofar to say that," repliedSarudine, raising hiseyebrows.Novikoff's glance was

fullofhatred.HeregardedSarudine as one of thosemenwhomeanttorobhimof his beloved; moreover,his good looks annoyedhim."No,notintheleasttoo

far," he retorted. "Toappear half nude on thestage and in somevoluptuous scene exhibitone's personal charms tothosewhoinanhourorsotake their leave as theywould of some courtesanafterpayingtheusualfee!A charming careerindeed!""My friend," said

Sanine, "every woman inthe first instance likes tobe admired for herpersonalcharms."Novikoff shrugged his

shouldersirritably."What a silly, coarse

statement!"saidhe."At any rate, coarse or

not, it's the truth," repliedSanine. "Lida would bemost effective on the

stage,andIshould like toseeherthere."Although in the others

this speech roused acertain instinctivecuriosity,theyallfeltillatease. Sarudine, whothought himself moreintelligentandtactfulthanthe rest, deemed it hisduty to dispel this vaguefeelingofembarrassment.

"Well, what do youthinktheyoungladyoughtto do? Get married?Pursue a course of study,or let her talent be lost?That would be a crimeagainst nature that hadendowed her with itsfairestgift.""Oh!" exclaimed

Sanine, with undisguisedsarcasm,"tillnowtheidea

ofsuchacrimehadneverenteredmyhead."Novikoff laughed

maliciously, but repliedpolitely enough toSarudine."Why a crime?A good

motherorafemaledoctorisworth a thousand timesmorethananactress.""Not at all!" said

Tanaroff,indignantly.

"Don'tyoufindthissortof talk rather boring?"askedSanine.Sarudine'srejoinderwas

lost in a fit of coughing.They all of them reallythought such a discussiontedious and unnecessary;and yet they all feltsomewhat offended. Anunpleasant silencereigned.

Lida and MariaIvanovna appeared on theverandah. Lida had heardher brother's last words,but did not know to whattheyreferred."Youseemtohavesoon

becomebored!" cried she,laughing."Letusgodowntotheriver.Itischarmingthere,now."As she passed in front

of the men, her shapelyfigure swayed slightly,and there was a look ofdark mystery in her eyesthat seemed to saysomething, to promisesomething."Go for a walk till

supper-time," said MariaIvanovna."Delighted," exclaimed

Sarudine. His spurs

clinked,asheofferedLidahisarm."I hope that I may be

allowedtocometoo,"saidNovikoff, meaning to besatirical, though his faceworeatearfulexpression."Whoistheretoprevent

you?" replied Lida,smiling, at him over hershoulder."Yes, you go, too,"

exclaimed Sanine. "Iwould come with you ifshewerenotsothoroughlyconvinced that I am herbrother."Lida winced somewhat,

and glanced swiftly atSanine, as she laughed, ashort,nervouslaugh.Maria Ivanovna was

obviouslydispleased."Why do you talk in

that stupid way?" shebluntly exclaimed. "Isuppose you think it isoriginal?""I really never thought

about it at all," wasSanine'srejoinder.Maria Ivanovna looked

athiminamazement.Shehad never been able tounderstand her son; shenever could tell when he

was joking or in earnest,nor what he thought orfelt, when othercomprehensible personsfelt and thought much asshedidherself.Accordingto her idea, a man wasalwaysboundtospeakandfeel and act exactly asother men of his socialand intellectual statuswere wont to speak and

feelandact.Shewasalsoof opinion that peoplewerenotsimplymenwiththeir naturalcharacteristics andpeculiarities,but that theymust be all cast in onecommon mould. Her ownenvironment encouragedand confirmed this belief.Education, she thought,tended to dividemen into

twogroups,theintelligentand the unintelligent. Thelatter might retain theirindividuality, which drewuponthemthecontemptofothers. The former weredivided into groups, andtheir convictions did notcorrespond with theirpersonalqualitiesbutwiththeir respective positions.Thus, every studentwas a

revolutionary, everyofficial was bourgeois,everyartista free thinker,and every officer anexaggerated stickler forrank. If, however, itchancedthatastudentwasa Conservative, or anofficer an Anarchist, thismust be regarded asmostextraordinary, and evenunpleasant.AsforSanine,

accordingtohisoriginandeducationheoughttohavebeen something quitedifferent from what hewas; and Maria Ivanovnafelt asLida,Novikoffandallwho came into contactwith him felt, that he haddisappointed expectation.With a mother's instinctshe quickly saw theimpression that her son

madeon thoseabouthim;anditpainedher.Sanine was aware of

this. He would fain havereassuredher,butwasatalosshowtobegin.Atfirsthe thought of professingsentimentsthatwerefalse,so that she might bepacified;however,heonlylaughed, and, rising, wentindoors. There, for a

while, he lay on his bed,thinking. It seemed as ifmen wished to turn thewholeworldintoasortofmilitarycloister,withonesetofrulesforall,framedwith a view to destroy allindividuality, or else tomake this submit to onevague, archaic power ofsome kind. He was evenled to reflect upon

Christianity and its fate,butthisboredhimtosuchan extent that he fellasleep, and did not wakeuntileveninghadturnedtonight.Maria Ivanovna

watched him go, and she,too, sighing deeply,became immersed inthought. Sarudine, so shesaid to herself, was

obviously paying court toLida, and she hoped thathis intentions wereserious."Lida's already twenty,

and Sarudine seems to bequite anice sort ofyoungman.Theysayhe'llgethissquadron this year. Ofcourse, he's heavily indebtBut oh! why did Ihave that horrid dream? I

know it's absurd, yetsomehowIcan'tget itoutofmyhead!"Thisdreamwasonethat

she had dreamed on thesame day that Sarudinehad first entered thehouse. She thought thatshe saw Lida, dressed allin white, walking in agreenmeadowbrightwithflowers.

Maria Ivanovna sankintoaneasychair,leaningher head on her hand, asold women do, and shegazed at the darkeningsky.Thoughtsgloomyandtormenting gave norespite, and there was anindefinable somethingcausedher to feelanxiousandafraid.

3Chapter

It was already quite darkwhen the others returnedfrom their walk. Theirclear, merry voices rangout through the soft dusk

that veiled the garden.Lida ran, flushed andlaughing, to her mother.Shebroughtwithhercoolscents from the river thatblended delightfully withthe fragrance of her ownsweet youth and beautywhich the companionshipof sympathetic admirersheightenedandenhanced."Supper, mamma, let's

have supper!" she criedplayfully dragging hermotheralong."MeanwhileVictor Sergejevitsch isgoingtosingsomethingtous."Maria Ivanovna, as she

went out to get supperready, thought to herselfthatFatecouldsurelyhavenothing but happiness instore for so beautiful and

charming a girl as herdarlingLida.Sarudine and Tanaroff

went to the piano in thedrawing-room,while Lidareclined lazily in therocking-chair on theveranda. Novikoff, mute,walked up and down onthecreakingboardsof theveranda floor, furtivelyglancing at Lida's face, at

her firm, full bosom, ather little feet shod inyellow shoes, and herdainty ankles. But shetooknoheedofhimnorofhis glances, so enthralledwas she by themight andmagic of a first passion.She shut her eyes, andsmiledatherthoughts.InNovikoff'ssoul there

was the old strife; he

loved Lida, yet he couldnotbesureofherfeelingstowards himself.At timesshe loved him, so hethought; and again, therewere times when she didnot. If he thought 'yes,'how easy and pleasant itseemed for this young,pure, supple body tosurrender itself to him. Ifhe thought 'no,' such an

idea was foul anddetestable;hewasangryathis own lust, deeminghimselfvile,andunworthyofLida.Atlastbedeterminedto

beguidedbychance."If I step on the last

board with my right foot,then I've got to propose;and if with the left, then"

Hedarednoteventhinkof what would happen inthatcase.He trod on the last

boardwithhis leftfoot.Itthrew him into a coldsweat; but he instantlyreassuredhimself."Pshaw! What

nonsense! I'm like someold woman! Now then;one, two, threeat three

I'll go straight up to her,and speak. Yes, but whatam I going to say? Nomatter! Here goes! One,two,three!No,threetimesover! One, two, three!One,two"His brain seemed on

fire, his mouth grewparched, his heart beat soviolently that his kneesshook.

"Don'tstamplike that!"exclaimed Lida, openingher eyes. "One can't hearanything."OnlythenwasNovikoff

aware that Sarudine wassinging.The young officer had

chosenthatoldromance,I loved you once! Can

you forget? Love in myheartisburningyet.

He did not sing badly,but after the style ofuntrained singers whoseektogiveexpressionbyexaggerated tone-colour.Novikofffoundnothingtoplease him in such aperformance."What is that? One of

his own compositions?"asked he, with unusualbitterness.

"No! Don't disturb us,please,butsitdown!"saidLida,sharply."Andifyoudon't like music, go andlookatthemoon!"Just then the moon,

large, round and red, wasrising above the blacktree-tops. Its soft evasivelight touched the stonesteps, and Lida's dress,and her pensive, smiling

face. In the garden theshadows had growndeeper; they were nowsombre and profound asthoseoftheforest.Novikoff sighed, and

thenblurtedout."I prefer you to the

moon," thinking tohimself, "that's an idioticremark!"Lidaburstoutlaughing.

"What a lumpishcompliment!" sheexclaimed."I don't know how to

pay compliments," wasNovikoff's sullenrejoinder."Very well, then, sit

stillandlisten,"saidLida,shrugging her shoulders,pettishly.Butyouno longercare,

I know, Why should Igrieveyouwithmywoe?The tones of the piano

rang out with silveryclearness through thegreen, humid garden. Themoonlight became moreand more intense and theshadows harder. Crossingthegrass,Saninesatdownunder a linden-tree andwas about to light a

cigarette. Then hesuddenly stopped andremainedmotionless,asifspell-bound by theevening calm that thesoundsofthepianoandofthis youthfullysentimental voice in noway disturbed, but ratherserved to make morecomplete."Lidia Petrovna!" cried

Novikoff hurriedly, as ifthis particular momentmust never be lost."Well?" asked Lidamechanically, as shelooked at the garden andthemoonaboveitandthedarkboughsthatstoodoutsharply against its silverdisc."I have long waited

that isI have been

anxious to say somethingto you," Novikoffstammeredout.Sanine turned his head

roundtolisten."What about?" asked

Lida,absently.Sarudine had finished

hissongandafterapausebegan to sing again. Hethoughtthathehadavoiceof extraordinary beauty,

andhemuchlikedtohearit.Novikoff felt himself

growing red, and thenpale. It was as if heweregoingtofaint."Ilook hereLidia

Petrovnawillyoubemywife?"As he stammered out

thesewordshefeltall thewhile that he ought to

have said something verydifferent and that his ownemotions should havebeendifferentalso.Beforehe had got the words outhe was certain that theanswerwouldbe"no";andatthesametimehehadanimpressionthatsomethingutterlysillyandridiculouswasabouttooccur.Lida asked

mechanically, "Whosewife?"Thensuddenly,sheblushed deeply, and rose,as if intending to speak.But she said nothing andturned aside in confusion.Themoonlightfellfullonherfeatures."Ilove you!"

stammeredNovikoff.For him, the moon no

longer shone; the evening

air seemed stifling, theearth, he thought, wouldopenbeneathhisfeet."I don't know how to

make speechesbutnomatter, I love you verymuch!"("Why, verymuch?" he

thoughttohimself,"asifIwere alluding to ice-cream.")Lida played nervously

with a little leaf that hadfluttered down into herhands. What she had justheard embarrassed her,beingbothunexpectedandfutile;besides,itcreatedanovel feeling ofdisagreeable restraintbetween herself andNovikoff whom from herchildhood she had alwayslooked upon as a relative,

andwhomsheliked."I really don't know

what to say! I had neverthoughtaboutit."Novikofffeltadullpain

athisheart,as if itwouldstopbeating.Verypale,heroseandseizedhiscap."Good-bye,"hesaid,not

hearing the sound of hisown voice. His quiveringlips were twisted into a

meaninglesssmile."Are you going? Good-

bye!" said Lida, laughingnervously and profferingherhand.Novikoff grasped it

hastily, and withoutputting on his cap strodeout across the grass, intothegarden.Intheshadehestoodstillandgrippedhisheadwithbothhands.

"MyGod!Iamdoomedtosuchluckasthis!Shootmyself? No, that's allnonsense! Shoot myself,eh?" Wild, incoherentthoughts flashed throughhis brain. He felt that hewasthemostwretchedandhumiliated and ridiculousofmortals.Sanineatfirstwishedto

call out to him, but

checking the impulse, hemerely smiled. To him itwas grotesque thatNovikoff should tear hishair and almost weepbecause a woman whosebodyhedesiredwouldnotsurrender herself to him.At the same time he wasrather glad that his prettysister did not care forNovikoff.

ForsomemomentsLidaremained motionless inthe same place, andSanine's curious gazewasriveted on her whitesilhouette in themoonlight. Sarudine nowcame from the lighteddrawing-room on to theveranda. Sanine distinctlyheard the faint jinglingofhis-spurs. In the drawing-

room Tanaroff wasplaying an old-fashioned,mournful waltz whoselanguorous cadencesfloated on the air.Approaching Lida,Sarudinegentlyanddeftlyplaced his arm round herwaist. Sanine couldperceive that both figuresbecame merged into onethat swayed in the misty

light."Why so pensive?"

murmured Sarudine, withshining eyes, as his lipstouchedLida'sdaintylittleear, Lida was at oncejoyfulandafraid.Now,ason all occasions whenSarudine embraced her,she felt a strange thrill.She knew that inintelligenceandculturehe

was her inferior, and thatshe could never bedominated by him; yet atthe same time she wasaware of somethingdelightfulandalarming inletting herself be touchedby this strong, comelyyoungman.Sheseemedtobe gazing down into amysterious, unfathomableabyss, and thinking, "I

could hurl myself in, if Ichose.""Weshallbe seen," she

murmuredhalfaudibly.Thoughnotencouraging

his embrace, she yet didnot shrink from it; suchpassive surrender excitedhimthemore."One word, just one!"

whisperedSarudine, as hecrushedhercloser tohim,

his veins throbbing withdesire;"willyoucome?"Lida trembled. It was

not the first time that hehad asked her thisquestion, and each timeshe had felt strangetremors that deprived herofherwill."Why?" she asked, in a

low voice as she gazeddreamilyatthemoon.

"Why?ThatImayhaveyounearme,andseeyou,and talk to you. Oh! likethis,it'storture!Yes,Lida,you're torturingme!Now,willyoucome?"So saying, he strained

her to him, passionately.His touch as that ofglowing iron, sent a thrillthrough her limbs; itseemed as if she were

enveloped in a mist,languorous, dreamy,oppressive. Her lithe,supple frame grew rigidand then swayed towardshim, trembling withpleasureandyetwithfear.Around her all things hadundergone a curious,sudden change.Themoonwas a moon no longer; itseemedclose,close to the

trellis-work of theveranda, as if it hung justabove the luminous lawn.The garden was not theone that she knew, butanother garden, sombre,mysterious, that, suddenlyapproaching, closed roundher.Her brain reeled. Shedrew back, and withstrange languor, freedherself from Sarudine's

embrace."Yes," she murmured

with difficulty. Her lipswerewhiteandparched.Withfalteringstepsshe

re-entered the house,conscious of somethingterrible yet alluring thatinevitablydrewher to thebrinkofanabyss."Nonsense!" she

reflected. "It's not that at

all. I am only joking. Itjust interests me, and itamusesme,too."Thus did she seek to

persuade herself, as shestood facing the darkenedmirror in her room,wherein she only sawh e r s e l fen silhouetteagainst the glass door ofthe brightly lighteddining-room. Slowly she

raisedbotharmsaboveherhead, and lazily stretchedherself, watchingmeanwhile the sensuousmovements of her supplebody.Left to himself,

Sarudine stood erect andshook his shapely limbs.Hiseyeswerehalfclosed,and,ashesmiled,histeethshone beneath his fair

moustache. He wasaccustomed to have luck,and on this occasion heforesaw even greaterenjoyment in the nearfuture. He imagined Lidain all her voluptuousbeautyattheverymomentof surrender. The passionof such a picture causedhimphysicalpain.At first, when he paid

courttoher,andafterthat,whenshehadallowedhimto embrace her and kissher,Lidahadalwaysmadehimfeelsomewhatafraid.While he caressed her,there was somethingstrange, unintelligible inher dark eyes, as thoughshe secretly despised himShe seemed to him soclever, so absolutely

unlike other women towhom he had always felthimself obviouslysuperior, and so proud,thatforakisshelookedtoreceive a box on the ear.The thoughtofpossessingher was almostdisquieting. At times hebelieved that shewas justplaying with him and hisposition appeared simply

foolishandabsurd.Butto-day, after this promise,uttered hesitatingly, infaltering tones such as hehad heard other womenuse, he felt suddenlycertain of his power andthat victory was near. Heknewthatthingswouldbejust as he had desiredthem to be. And to thissense of voluptuous

expectancy was added atouchof spite: this proud,pure, cultured girl shouldsurrendertohim,asalltheothershadsurrendered;hewould use her at hispleasure, as he had usedtherest.Scenes libidinousand debasing rose upbefore him. Lida nude,with hair dishevelled andinscrutable eyes, became

the central figure in aturbulent orgy of crueltyand lust. Suddenly hedistinctlysawherlyingonthe ground; he heard theswish of the whip; heobserved a blood-redstripe on the soft, nude,submissive body. Histemples throbbed, hestaggered backwards,sparks danced before his

eyes.The thoughtof itallbecame physicallyintolerable. His handshookashelitacigarette;again his strong limbstwitchedconvulsively,andhe went indoors. Saninewhohadheardnothingyetwho had seen andcomprehended all,followed him, rousedalmost to a feeling of

jealousy."Brutes like that are

always lucky," he thoughtto himself, "What thedevil does it all mean?Lidaandhe?"At supper, Maria

Ivanovna seemed inabadtemper. Tanaroff as usualsaid nothing. He thoughtwhata fine thing itwouldbe if he were Sarudine,

andhadsuchasweetheartas Lida to love him. Hewould have loved her inquite a different way,though. Sarudine did notknow how to appreciatehisgoodfortune.Lidawaspaleand silent, lookingatnoone.Sarudinewasgay,and on the alert, like awild beast that scents itsprey. Sanine yawned as

usual, ate, drank a gooddeal of brandy andapparentlyseemedlongingto go to sleep. But whensupper was over, hedeclared his intention ofwalking home withSarudine. It was nearmidnight, and the moonshone high overhead.Almost in silence the twowalked towards the

officer's quarters. All theway Sanine kept lookingfurtively at Sarudine,wonderingifheshould,orshould not, strike him intheface."Hm!Yes!"hesuddenly

began,astheygotclosetothe house, "there are allsorts of blackguards inthisworld!""What do youmean by

that?" asked Sarudine,raisinghiseyebrows."That is so; speaking

generally.Blackguardsarethe most fascinatingpeople.""You don't say so?"

exclaimed Sarudine,smiling."Of course they are.

There's nothing so boringinalltheworldasyourso-

called honest man. Whatis an honest man? Withtheprogrammeofhonestyand virtue everybody haslongbeenfamiliar;andsoit contains nothing that isnew. Such antiquatedrubbish robs aman of allindividuality, and his lifeislivedwithinthenarrow,tedious limits of virtue.Thou shalt not steal, nor

lie,norcheat,norcommitadultery. The funny thingis, that all that is born isone!Everybodysteals,andlies, and cheats andcommitsadulteryasmuchashecan.""Not everybody,"

protestedSarudineloftily."Yes, yes; everybody!

You have only got toexamine a man's life in

order to get at his sins.Treachery, for instance.Thus, after rendering toCaesar the things that areCaesar's, when we goquietlytobed,orsitdownto table, we commit actsoftreachery.""What's that you say?"

cried Sarudine, halfangrily."Of course we do. We

pay taxes; we serve ourtime in thearmy,yes;butthat means that we harmmillions by warfare andinjustice, both of whichweabhor.Wegocalmlytoour beds,whenwe shouldhastentorescuethosewhoin that very moment areperishing for us and forour ideas. We eat morethanweactuallywant,and

leave others to starve,when,asvirtuousfolk,ourwhole lives should bedevoted to their welfare.So it goes on. It's plainenough. Now ablackguard,areal,genuineblackguard is quiteanother matter. To beginwith he is a perfectlysincere,naturalfellow.""Natural?"

"Of course he is. Hedoes only what a mannaturally does. He seessomething that does notbelong to him, somethingthat he likesand, hetakes it. He sees a prettywoman who won't giveherself to him, so hemanages together, eitherby force or by craft.Andthat is perfectly natural,

the desire and the instinctforself-gratificationbeingone of the few traits thatdistinguish a man from abeast.Themoreanimalananimal is, the less itunderstandsofenjoyment,the less able it is toprocure this. It only carestosatisfyitsneeds.Weareall agreed that man wasnot created in order to

suffer, and that sufferingis not the ideal of humanendeavour.""Quite so," said

Sarudine."Very well, then,

enjoyment is the aim ofhumanlife.Paradiseisthesynonym for absoluteenjoyment, and we all ofus,moreorless,dreamofan earthly paradise. This

legendofparadiseisbynomeans an absurdity, but asymbol,adream.""Yes," continued

Sanine, after a pause,"Nature never meant mento be abstinent, and thesincerest men are thosewho do not conceal theirdesires, that is to say,those who socially countas blackguards, fellows

such asyou, forinstance."Sarudinestartedbackin

amazement."Yes, you," continued

Sanine, affecting not tonotice this, "You're thebest fellow in the world,or, at any rate, you thinkyou are. Come now, tellme, have you ever met abetter?"

"Yes, lots of them,"replied Sarudine, withsome hesitation. He hadnot the least idea whatSanine meant, nor if heoughttoappearamusedorannoyed."Well, name them,

please,"saidSanine.Sarudine shrugged his

shoulders,doubtfully."There, you see!"

exclaimed Sanine gaily."Youyourselfarethebestofgoodfellows,andsoamI;yetwebothofuswouldnot object to stealing, ortelling lies or committingadulteryleast of all tocommittingadultery.""How original!"

muttered Sarudine, as heagain shrugged hisshoulders.

"Do you think so?"asked the other, with aslight shade of annoyanceinhistone."Well,Idon't!Yes, blackguards, as Isaid, are themost sincereand interesting peopleimaginable, for they haveno conception of thebounds of humanbaseness. I always feelparticularly pleased to

shake hands with ablackguard."Heimmediatelygrasped

Sarudine'shandandshookitvigorouslyashe lookedhim full in the face.Thenhe frowned, and mutteredcurtly, "Good-bye, good-night,"andlefthim.For a few moments

Sarudine stood perfectlystill and watched him

depart. He did not knowhowtotakesuchspeechesas these of Sanine; hebecame at oncebewildered and uneasy.Then he thought of Lida,and smiled. Sanine washer brother, and what hehad said was really rightafter all.Hebegan to feela sort of brotherlyattachmentforhim.

"Anamusingfellow,byGad!" he thought,complacently,asifSanineinawaybelongedtohim,also. Then he opened thegate, and went across themoonlit courtyard to hisquarters.On reaching home,

Sanine undressed and gotintobed,wherehetriedtoread "Thus spake

Zarathustra"whichhehadfoundamongLida'sbooks.But the first few pageswere enough to irritatehim. Such inflatedimagery left himunmoved. He spat, flungthe volume aside, andsoonfellfastasleep.

4Chapter

Colonel NicolaiYegorovitch Svarogitschwho lived in the littletownawaitedthearrivalofhis son, a student at the

MoscowPolytechnic.Thelatterwasunderthe

surveillance of the policeand had been expelledfrom Moscow as asuspected person. It wasthought that he was inleaguewithrevolutionists.Yourii Svarogitsch hadalready written to hisparentsinformingthemofhis arrest, his sixmonths'

imprisonment, and hisexpulsionfromthecapital,sothattheywerepreparedfor his return. ThoughNicolai Yegorovitchlooked upon the wholethingas apieceofboyishfolly, he was reallymuchgrieved, for he was veryfond of his son,whomhereceived with open arms,avoiding any allusion to

this painful subject. FortwowholedaysYouriihadtravelled third-class, andowing to the bad air, thestench, and the cries ofchildren,hegotnosleepatall. He was utterlyexhausted, and had nosooner greeted his fatherand his sister Ludmilla(who was always calledLialia) than he lay down

onherbed,andfellasleep.He did not wake until

evening,whenthesunwasnear the horizon, and itsslanting rays, fallingthrough the panes, threwrosy squares upon thewall. In the next roomthere was a clatter ofspoons and glasses; hecould hear Lialia's merrylaugh, and also a man's

voice both pleasant andrefined which he did notknow.Atfirstitseemedtohim as if he were still inthe railway-carriage andheard the noise of thetrain, the rattle of thewindow-panes and thevoices of travellers in thenext compartment.But hequickly rememberedwherehewas,andsatbolt

upright on the bed. "Yes,hereIam,"heyawned,as,frowning, he thrust hisfingers through his thick,stubbornblackhair.It then occurred to him

that he need never havecome home. He had beenallowed to choose wherehewouldstay.Why, then,did he return to hisparents?Thathecouldnot

explain. He believed, orwished to believe, that hehad fixed upon the mostlikely place that hadoccurred to him. But thiswas not the case at all.Yourii had never had towork for a living; hisfather kept him suppliedwith funds, and theprospect of being aloneandwithoutmeansamong

strangers seemed terribleto him. He was ashamedofsuchafeeling,andlothto admit it to himself.Now,however,he thoughtthat he had made amistake.Hisparentscouldnever understand thewholestory,nor formanyopinion regarding it; thatwas quite plain. Thenagain, the material

question would arise, themanyuselessyearsthathehad cost his fatherit allmade a mutually cordial,straightforwardunderstanding impossible.Moreover, in this littletown, which he had notseen for two years, hewould find it dreadfullydull. He looked upon allthe inhabitants of petty

provincial towns asnarrow-minded folk,incapable of beinginterested in, or even ofunderstanding thosephilosophicalandpoliticalquestions which for himwere the only reallyimportantthingsoflife.Yourii got up, and,

opening the window,leanedout.Alongthewall

of the house there was alittle flower-garden brightwith flowers, red, yellow,blue, lilac and white. Itwas like a kaleidoscope.Behind it lay the largedusky garden that, as allgardens in this town,stretched down to theriver, which glimmeredlikedullglassbetweenthestemsofthetrees.Itwasa

calm, clear evening.Yourii felt a vague senseof depression. He hadlived too long in largetowns built of stone, andthough he liked to fancythathewasfondofnature,she really gave himnothing, neither solace,nor peace, nor joy, andonly roused in him avague, dreamy, morbid

longing."Aha!You'reupatlast!

it was about time," saidLialia, as she entered theroom.Oppressedashewasby

the sense of his uncertainposition and by themelancholy of the dyingday, Yourii felt almostvexedbyhissister'sgaietyandbyhermerryvoice.

"What are you sopleased about?" he askedabruptly."Well, I never!" cried

Lialia, wide-eyed, whileshe laughed again, just asif her brother's questionhad reminded her ofsomething particularlyamusing."Imagine your asking

mewhy I am so pleased?

Yousee,Iamneverbored.Ihavenotimeforthatsortofthing."Then, in a graver tone,

andevidentlyproudofherlastremark,sheadded."We live in such

interesting times that itwould really be a sin tofeel bored. I have got theworkmen to teach, andthenthelibrarytakesupa

lotofmytime.Whileyouwere away, we started apopular library, and it isgoingverywellindeed."At any other time this

would have interestedYourii,butnowsomethingmade him indifferent.Lialialookedveryserious,waiting, as a child mightwait, for her brother'spraise.Atlasthemanaged

tomurmur."Oh!really!""Withallthattodo,can

you expect me to bebored?" said Lialiacontentedly."Well, anyhow,

everything bores me,"replied Youriiinvoluntarily. Shepretendedtobehurt."That'sveryniceofyou,

I am sure. You've hardlybeen two hours in thehouse, and asleepmost ofthetime,yetyouareboredalready!""It is not my fault, but

my misfortune," repliedYourii, in a slightlyarrogant tone. He thoughtit showed superiorintelligence to be boredratherthanamused.

"Your misfortune,indeed!" cried Lialia,mockingly."Ha!Ha!"Shepretended to slap him."Ha!Ha!"Yourii did not perceive

that he had alreadyrecovered his goodhumour. Lialia's merryvoiceandherjoyoflivinghad speedily banished hisdepression which he had

imagined to be very realand deep. Lialia did notbelieveinhismelancholy,and therefore his remarkscausedhernoconcern.Yourii looked at her,

andsaidwithasmile."Iamnevermerry."At this Lialia laughed,

as though he had saidsomethingvastlydroll."Very well, Knight of

theRuefulCountenance,ifyou aren't you aren't.Never mind, come withme, and I will introduceyou to a charming youngman.Come!"So saying she took her

brother's hand, andlaughinglyledhimalong."Stop! Who is this

charmingyoungman?""My fianc," cried

Lialia, as, joyful andconfused, she twistedsharply round so that hergown was puffed out.Youriiknewalready,fromhis father's and sister'sletters,thatayoungdoctorrecentlyestablished in thetown had been payingcourttoLialia,buthewasnot aware that theirengagement was afait

accompli."Youdon'tsayso?"said

he, in amazement. Itseemed to him so strangethat pretty, fresh-lookinglittle Lialia, almost achild,shouldalreadyhavea lover, and should soonbecomeabrideawife.Ittouched him to a vaguesenseofpityforhissister.Yourii put his arm round

Lialia's waist and wentwith her into the dining-room where in the lamp-light shone the large,highly polished samovar.Atthetable,bythesideofNicolaiYegorovitch sat awell-built youngman, notRussian in type, withbronzed features andkeenbrighteyes.He rose in simple,

friendly fashion to meetYourii."Introduceme.""Anatole Pavlovitch

Riasantzeff!" cried Lialia,with a gesture of comicsolemnity."Who craves your

friendship andindulgence," addedRiasantzeff, joking in histurn.

With a sincere wish tobecome friends, the twoshook hands. For amoment it seemed as ifthey would embrace, butthey refrained, merelyexchanging frank,amicableglances."So this is her brother,

isit?"thoughtRiasantzeff,in surprise, for he hadimaginedthatabrotherof

Lialia, short, fair, andmerry,wouldbeshort,fairandmerry too.Yourii, onthe contrarywas tall, thinanddark, thoughasgood-lookingasLialia,andwiththesameregularfeatures.And,asYouriilookedat

Riasantzeff, he thought tohimself: "So this is themanwhoinmylittlesisterLialia,asfreshandfairas

a spring morning, lovesthewoman; lovesher justas I myself have lovedwomen."Somehow,ithurthim to look at Lialia andRiasantzeff,asifhefearedthat they would read histhoughts.The two men felt that

they had much that wasimportant to say to eachother. Yourii would have

likedtoask:"Do you love Lialia?

Reallyandtruly?Itwouldbe sad, and indeedshameful, if you were tobetray her; she's so pure,soinnocent!"And Riasantzeff would

havelikedtoanswer:"Yes, I love your sister

deeply; who could doanythingelsebutloveher?

Lookhowpureandsweet,and charming she is; howfond she is of me; andwhataprettydimpleshe'sgot!"But instead of all this,

Yourii said nothing, andRiasantzeffasked:"Have you been

expelledforlong?""For five years," was

Yourii'sanswer.

At these words NicolaiYegorovitch, who waspacing up and down theroom, stopped for amoment and then,recollecting himself, hecontinued his walk withthe regular, precise stepsofanoldsoldier.Asyethewasignorantofthedetailsofhisson'sexile,andthisunexpected news came as

ashock."What the devil does it

allmean?"hemuttered tohimself.Lialia understood this

movement of her father's.She was afraid of scenes,and tried to change theconversation."How foolish of me,"

she thought, "not to haveremembered to tell

Anatole!"But Riasantzeff did not

know the real facts, and,replying to Lialia'sinvitation to have sometea, he again began toquestionYourii."Andwhatdoyouthink

ofdoingnow?"Nicolai Yegorovitch

frowned,andsaidnothing.Yourii at once knewwhat

his father's silencemeant;and before he hadreflected upon theconsequences of such ananswer he replied,defiantly and withirritation,"Nothing for the

moment.""How do you mean

nothing?" asked NicolaiYegorovitch, stopping

short. He had not raisedhis voice, but its toneclearly conveyedahiddenreproach."How can you say such

a thing? As if I wereobliged always to haveyou roundmy neck! Howcan you forget that I amold, and that it is hightime that you earnedyourownliving?Isaynothing.

Liveasyoulike!Butcan'tyou yourself understand?"The tone implied all this.And the more it madeYourii feel that his fatherwasrightinthinkingashedid, the more he tookoffence."Yes,nothing!Whatdo

you expectme to do?" heaskedprovocatively.Nicolai Yegorovitch

was about to make acutting retort, but saidnothing,merelyshrugginghis shoulders and withmeasured tread resuminghismarchfromonecornerof the room to the other.He was too well-bred towrangle with his son ontheverydayofhisarrival.Yourii watched him withflashingeyes,beinghardly

abletocontrolhimselfandready on the slightestchancetoopenthequarrel.Lialiawasalmostintears.She glanced imploringlyfrom her brother to herfather. Riasantzeff at lastunderstood the situation,and he felt so sorry forLialia, that, clumsilyenough,he turned the talkintoanotherchannel.

Slowly, tediously, theevening passed. Youriiwould not admit that hewas blameworthy, for hedid not agree with hisfatherthatpoliticswerenopart of his business. Heconsidered that his fatherwas incapable ofunderstandingthesimplestthings,beingoldandvoidof intelligence.

Unconsciously he blamedhimforhisoldageandhisantiquated ideas: theyenraged him. The topicstouched upon byRiasantzeff did notinterest him. He scarcelylistened, but steadilywatched his father withblack,glitteringeyes.Justat supper-time cameNovikoff, Ivanoff and

Semenoff.Semenoff was a

consumptive student whofor somemonthspast hadlived in the town, wherehe gave lessons. He wasthin,ugly,andlookedverydelicate. Upon his face,which was prematurelyaged, lay the fleetingshadow of approachingdeath. Ivanoff was a

schoolmaster, a long-haired, broad-shouldered,ungainly man. They hadbeen walking on theboulevard, and hearing ofYourii's arrival had cometo salute him. With theircoming things grew morecheerful. There waslaughterandjoking,andatsupper much was drunk.Ivanoff distinguished

himself in this respect.During the few days thatfollowed his unfortunateproposaltoLida,Novikoffhad become somewhatcalmer. That Lida hadrefused him might havebeen accidental, hethought; it was his fault,indeed, as he ought tohavepreparedherforsuchanavowal.Neverthelessit

waspainfultohimtovisitthe Sanines. Therefore heendeavoured tomeetLidaelsewhere, either in thestreet,oratthehouseofamutualfriend.She,forherpart, pitied him, and, in away,blamedherselfwhichcaused her to treat himwith exaggeratedcordiality, so thatNovikoffoncemorebegan

tohope."What do you say to

this?" he asked, just astheywereallgoing,"Let'sarrange a picnic at theconvent,shallwe?"Theconvent,situatedon

a hill at no great distancefrom the town, was afavourite place forexcursions.Itwasneartheriver,andtheroadleading

toitwasgood.Devoted as she was to

every kind of amusementsuch as bathing, rowingand walks in the woods,Lialia welcomed the ideawithenthusiasm."Yes, of course! Of

course! But when is it tobe?""Well, why not to-

morrow?"saidNovikoff.

"Who else shall weask?" asked Riasantzeff,equally pleased at theprospectofaday'souting.In thewoodshewouldbeable to hold Lialia in hisarms, tokissher,andfeelthat the sweet body hecovetedwasnear."Letussee.Wearesix.

Suppose we askSchafroff?"

"Who is he?" inquiredYourii."Oh! he's a young

student.""Very well; and

LudmillaNicolaievnawillinviteKarsavinaandOlgaIvanovna.""Who are they?" asked

Youriioncemore.Lialia laughed. "You

willsee!"shesaid,kissing

the tipsofher fingersandlookingverymysterious."Aha!" said Yourii,

smiling. "Well, we shallseewhatweshallsee!"After some hesitation,

Novikoff with an air ofindifference,remarked:"We might ask the

Saninestoo.""Oh! wemust have

Lida," cried Lialia, not

because she particularlyliked thegirl,butbecauseshe knew of Novikoff'spassion, and wished toplease him. She was sohappy herself in her ownlove, that she wanted allthose about her to behappyalso."Then we shall have to

invite the officers, too,"observed Ivanoff,

maliciously."Whatdoesthatmatter?

Letusdoso.Themorethemerrier!"They all stood at the

front door, in themoonlight."What a lovely night!"

exclaimed Lialia, asunconsciously she drewclosertoherlover.Shedidnot wish him to go yet.

Riasantzeffwithhiselbowpressed her warm, roundarm."Yes, it's a wonderful

night!" he replied, givingto these simple words ameaning that they twoalonecouldseize."Oh! you, and your

night!" muttered Ivanoffin his deep bass. "I'msleepy, so good-night,

sirs!"And he slouched off,

along the street, swinginghisarmslikethesailsofawindmill.Novikoff and Semenoff

wentnext,andRiasantzeffwas a long while sayinggood-bye to Lialia,pretending to talk aboutthepicnic."Now,wemustallgoto

bye-bye," said Lialia,laughingly, when he hadtaken his leave. Then shesighed,beinglothtoleavethe moonlight, the softnightair,andallforwhichher youth and beautylonged. Youriiremembered that hisfather had not yet retiredto rest, and feared that, ifthey met, a painful and

useless discussion wouldbeinevitable."No!" he replied, his

eyes fixed on the faintblue mist about the river,"No!Idon'twant togo tosleep. I shall go out for awhile.""As you like," said

Lialia,inhersweet,gentlevoice. Stretching herself,she half closed her eyes

like a cat, smiled at themoonlight, and went in.For a fewminutesYouriistood there, watching thedark shadows of thehouses and the trees; thenhe went in the samedirection that Semenoffhadtaken.The latter had not gone

far, walking slowly andstooping as he coughed.

His black shadowfollowed him along themoonlit road.Yourii soonovertook him and at oncenoticed how changed hewas. During supperSemenoff had joked andlaughedmoreperhapsthananyone else, but now hewalkedalong,gloomyandself-absorbed, and in hishollow cough there was

something hopeless andthreatening like thedisease from which hesuffered."Ah! it's you!" he said,

somewhat peevishly, asYouriithought."I wasn't sleepy. I'll

walkbackwithyou,ifyoulike.""Yes, do!" replied

Semenoff,carelessly.

"Aren't you cold?"asked Yourii, merelybecause this distressingcoughmadehimnervous."I am always cold,"

repliedSemenoffirritably.Yourii feltpained, as if

he had purposely touchedasorepoint."Isitalongwhilesince

you left the University?"heasked.

Semenoff did notimmediatelyreply."Alongwhile,"hesaid,

atlast.Youriithenspokeofthe

feeling that actuallyexisted among thestudents and ofwhat theyconsideredmostimportantand essential. He begansimply and impassively,butbydegrees lethimself

go, expressing himselfwithfervourandpoint.Semenoff said nothing,

andlistened.Then Yourii deplored

the lack of revolutionaryspiritamongthemasses.Itwas plain that he felt thisdeeply."Did you read Bebel's

lastspeech?"heasked."Yes, I did," replied

Semenoff."Well, what do you

say?"Semenoff irritably

flourishedhisstick,whichhadacrookedhandle.Hisshadow similarlywaved along black arm whichmade Yourii think of theblack wings of someinfuriatedbirdofprey."What do I say?" he

blurted out. "I say that Iamgoingtodie."Andagainhewavedhis

stickandagainthesinistershadow imitated hisgesture. This timeSemenoffalsonoticedit."Do you see?" said he

bitterly. "There, behindme, stands Death,watching my everymovement. What's Bebel

tome?Justababbler,whobabbles about this. Andthen some other fool willbabbleabout that. It isallthesame tome! If Idon'tdie to-day, I shall die to-morrow."Youriimadenoanswer.

Hefeltconfusedandhurt."You, for instance,"

continued Semenoff, "youthink that it's very

important, all this thatgoes on at theUniversity,and what Bebel says. ButwhatIthinkisthat,ifyouknew for certain, as I do,thatyouweregoingtodieyouwould not care in theleast what Bebel orNietzsche or Tolstoi oranybodyelsesaid."Semenoffwassilent.The moon still shone

brightly, and ever theblack shadow followed intheirwake."Myconstitution's done

for!" said Semenoffsuddenly in quite adifferent voice, thin andquerulous. "If you knewhow I dread dying .Especially on such abright, soft night as this,"he continued plaintively,

turning toYourii his uglyhaggardfaceandglitteringeyes. "Everything lives,andImustdie.Toyouthatsounds a hackneyedphrase,Ifeelcertain.'AndI must die.' But it is notfrom a novel, not takenfrom a work written with'artistic truth ofpresentment.' I reallyamgoingtodie,andtomethe

words do not seemhackneyed. One day youwill not think that theyare, either. I am dying,dying,andallisover!"Semenoff coughed

again."I often think that

before long I shall be inutter darkness, buried inthe cold earth, my nosefallen in, and my hands

rotting, and here in theworldallwillbejustas itisnow,whileIwalkalongalive.Andyou'llbeliving,andbreathingthisair,andenjoying this moonlight,and you'll go past mygravewhere I lie,hideousand corrupted. What doyou suppose I care forBebel, or Tolstoi or amillion other gibbering

apes?"Theselastwordsheuttered with sudden fury.Yourii was too depressedtoreply."Well, good-night!"

said Semenoff faintly. "Imustgo in."Yourii shookhands with him, feelingdeeppityforhim,hollow-chested, round-shouldered, and with thecrooked stick hanging

from a button of hisovercoat. He would haveliked to say somethingconsoling that mightencourage hope, but hefelt that this wasimpossible."Good-bye!" he said,

sighing.Semenoffraisedhiscap

and opened the gate. Thesoundofhisfootstepsand

of his coughgrew fainter,and then all was still.Yourii turned homewards.All that only one shorthalf-hour ago had seemedtohimbrightandfairandcalmthe moonlight, thestarry heaven, the poplartrees touchedwith silverysplendour, the mysteriousshadowsall were nowdead,andcoldandterrible

as some vast, tremendoustomb.On reaching home, he

went softly to his roomand opened the windowlooking on to the garden.For the first time in hislife he reflected that allthat had engrossed him,and for which he hadshown such zeal andunselfishness was really

not the right, theimportant thing. If, so hethought, some day, likeSemenoff, he were aboutto die, he would feel noburning regret that menhadnotbeenmadehappierby his efforts, nor griefthat his life-long idealsremained unrealized. Theonlygriefwouldbethathemust die,must lose sight,

and sense, and hearing,beforehavinghad time totaste all the joys that lifecouldyield.Hewasashamedofsuch

a thought, and, putting itaside, sought for anexplanation."Lifeisconflict.""Yes, but conflict for

whom,ifnotforone'sself,forone'sownplace in the

sun?"Thus spake a voice

within.Youriiaffectednotto hear it and strove tothink of something else.But his mind reverted tothis thought withoutceasing; it tormented himeventobittertears.

5Chapter

When Lida Saninereceived Lialia'sinvitation, she showed ittoherbrother.Shethoughtthat he would refuse; in

fact, she hoped as much.She felt that on themoonlit river she wouldagain be drawn toSarudine,andwouldagainexperience that sensationat once delicious anddisquieting. At the sametimeshewasashamedthather brother should knowthatitwasSarudine,ofallpeople,whomhecordially

despised.But Sanine at once

acceptedwithpleasure.The day was an ideal

one; bright sunlight and acloudlesssky."Nodoubt therewillbe

some nice girls there,whose acquaintance youmay care to make," saidLida,mechanically."Ah! that's good!" said

Sanine. "The weather islovely,too;solet'sgo!"At the time appointed,

Sarudine and Tanaroffdrove up in the largelineika belonging to theirsquadron with two bigregimentalhorses."Lidia Petrovna,we are

waiting for you," criedSarudine, lookingextremely smart in white,

andheavilyscented.Lida in a light gauzy

dress with a collar andwaist-band of rose-coloured velvet ran downthestepsandheldoutbothherhandstoSarudine.Foramomenthegraspedthemtightly, as he glancedadmiringlyatherperson."Let us go, let us go,"

she exclaimed, in

excitement,andconfusion,for sheknew themeaningofthatglance.Very soon the lineika

was swiftly rolling alongthe little-used road acrossthesteppes.Thetallstemsof the grass bent beneaththe wheels; the freshbreeze as it lightlytouchedthehair,madethegrasses wave on either

side. Outside the townthey overtook anothercarriagecontainingLialia,Yourii, Riasantzeff,Novikoff, Ivanoff andSemenoff. They werecramped anduncomfortable, yet allwere merry and in highspirits. OnlyYourii, afterlast night's talk, waspuzzled by Semenoff's

behaviour. He could notunderstand how the lattercould laugh and joke liketheothers.Afterallthathehad told him, such mirthseemed strange. "Was itallputon?"hethought,ashe furtively glanced atSemenoff.Heshrankfromsuchanexplanation.Frombothcarriages therewasalively interchange of wit

and raillery. Novikoffjumped down and ranraces through the grasswith Lida. Apparentlythere was a tacitunderstanding betweenthem to appear to be thebest of friends, for theykept merrily teasing eachotherallthetime.They now approached

the hill on whose summit

stood the conventwith itsglittering cupolas andwhitestonewalls.Thehillwas covered by woods,and the curled tips of theoak-trees looked likewool. There were oak-treesalsoontheislandsatthe foot of it, where thebroad,calmriverflowed.Leaving the road, the

horses trotted over the

moist, rich turf in whichthe carriage-wheels madedeep ruts. There was apleasant odour of earthandofgreenleaves.At the appointed place,

a meadow, seated on thegrasswereayoungstudentand two girls wearing thedress of Little Russia.Being the first to arrive,theywerebusilypreparing

teaandlightrefreshments.When the carriagestopped, the horsessnortedandwhiskedawayflies with their tails.Everybody jumped down,enlivenedandrefreshedbythe drive and the sweetcountry air. Lialiabestowed resoundingkisses upon the two girlswhoweremakingtea,and

introduced them to herbrother and to Sanine,whom they regarded withshy curiosity. Lidasuddenlyrememberedthatthetwomendidnotknoweach other. "Allow me,"she said to Yourii, "tointroduce to you mybrother Vladimir." Saninesmiled and graspedYourii's hand, but the

latter scarcely noticedhim. Sanine foundeverybody interesting andliked making newacquaintances. Youriiconsidered that very fewpeople in this world wereinteresting, and alwaysfelt disinclined to meetstrangers. Ivanoff knewSanine slightly and likedwhathehadabouthim.He

was the first to go up tohim and begin talking,while Semenoffceremoniously shookhandswithhim."Now we can all enjoy

ourselves after thesetiresome formalities,"criedLialia.At first a certain

stiffness prevailed, formany of the party were

completestrangerstoeachother.Butastheybegantoeat,whenthemenhadhadseveral liqueurs, and theladies wine, suchconstraint gave way tomirth. They drank freely,and there was muchlaughterandjoking.Someran races and othersclamberedupthehill-side.All around was so calm

and bright and the greenwoodssofair,thatnothingsad or sinister could castitsshadowsontheirsouls."If everybody were to

jump about and run likethis," said Riasantzeff,flushed and breathless,"nine-tenthsoftheworld'sdiseaseswouldnotexist.""Nor the vices either,"

addedLialia.

"Well, as regards vicetherewillalwaysbeplentyofthat,"observedIvanoff,and although no onethought such a remarkeither witty or wise, itprovokedheartylaughter.As they were having

tea,itwasthesunsethour.The river gleamed likegold,andthroughthetreesfell slanting raysofwarm

redlight."Now for the boat!"

cried Lida, as, holding upherskirts,sherandowntotheriver-bank."Who'llgettherefirst?"Some ran after her,

whileothers followedatamore leisurely pace, andamid much laughter theyallgotintoalargepaintedboat.

"Lethergo!"criedLida,in a merry voice ofcommand. The boat slidaway from the shoreleaving behind it twobroadstripeson thewaterthatdisappearedinripplesattheriver'sedge."Yourii Nicolaijevitch,

why are you so silent?"askedLida.Yourii smiled. "I'vegot

nothingtosay.""Impossible!" she

answered, with a prettypout, throwing back herhead as if she knew thatall men thought herirresistible."Yourii doesn't like

talking nonsense," saidSemenoff. "He requires.""A serious subject, is

that it?" exclaimed Lida,interrupting."Look!thereisaserious

subject!" said Sarudine,pointingtotheshore.Where the bank was

steep,betweenthegnarledroots of a rugged oak onecould see a narrowaperture, dark andmysterious, which waspartially hidden by weeds

andgrasses."What is that?" asked

Schafroff, who wasunfamiliar with this partofthecountry."A cavern," replied

Ivanoff."Whatsortofcavern?""The devil only knows!

Theysaythatonceitwasacoiners'den.Asusualtheywere all caught. Rather

hardlines,wasn'tit?"saidIvanoff."Perhaps you'd like to

startabusinessofthatsortyourself and manufacturesham twenty-copeckpieces?"askedNovikoff."Copecks? Not I!

Roubles, my friend,roubles!""Hm!" muttered

Sarudine, shrugging his

shoulders.Hedidnot likeIvanoff, whose jokes tohimwereunintelligible."Yes, they were all

caught, and the cave wasfilled up; it graduallycollapsed,andnooneevergoes into it now. As achildIoftenusedtocreepin there. It is a mostinterestingplace.""Interesting? I should

rather think so!"exclaimedLida."Victor Sergejevitsch,

supposeyougoin?You'reoneofthebraveones.""Why?"askedSarudine,

somewhatperplexed."I'll go!" exclaimed

Yourii, blushing to thinkthat the others wouldaccuse him of showingoff.

"It'sawonderfulplace!"said Ivanoff by way ofencouragement."Aren't yougoing too?"

askedNovikoff."No, I'd rather stop

here!"Atthistheyalllaughed.The boat drew near the

bank and a wave of coldairfromthecavernpassedovertheirheads.

"For heaven's sake,Yourii, don't do such asilly thing!" said Lialia,trying to dissuade herbrother. "It really is sillyofyou!""Silly?Of course it is."

Yourii, smiling, assented."Semenoff, just give methatcandle,willyou?""WhereshallIfindit?""There is one behind

you,inthehamper."Semenoff coolly

producedthecandle."Areyoureallygoing?"

asked a tall girl,magnificentlyproportioned.Lialiacalledher Sina, her surnamebeingKarsavina."Of course I am. Why

not?" replied Yourii,striving to show utter

indifference. Herecollected having donethiswhenengagedinsomeofhispoliticaladventures.The thought for somereasonorotherwasnotanagreeableone.The entrance to the

cavern was damp anddark. "Brrr!" exclaimedSanine,ashelookedin.Tohim it seemedabsurd that

Yourii should explore adisagreeable, dangerousplace simply becauseotherswatched him doingit. Yourii, as self-conscious as ever, lightedthe candle, thinkinginwardly, "I am makingmyself rather ridiculous,amInot?"Butsofarfromseeming ridiculous, hewon admiration,

especiallyfromtheladies,whowere in an agreeablestate of curiositybordering on alarm. Hewaitedtillthecandleburntmore brightly and then,laughing to avoid beinglaughedat, disappeared inthe darkness. The lightseemed to have vanished,also. They all suddenlyfelt concern for his safety

andintensecuriosityastowhatwouldhappen."Look out for wolves!"

criedRiasantzeff."It's all right. I'vegota

revolver!" came theanswer. It sounded faintandweird.Yourii advanced slowly

and with caution. Thesides of the cavern werelow, uneven, anddampas

thewallsofalargecellar.The ground was soirregularthattwiceYouriijust missed falling into ahole.He thought it wouldbebest to turnback,or tosit downandwait awhileso that he could say thathe had gone a good wayin.Suddenly he heard the

sound of footsteps behind

him slipping on the wetclay, and of some onebreathing hard. He heldthelightaloft."SinaidaKarsavina!"he

exclaimedinamazement."Her very self!" replied

Sina gaily, as she caughtup her dress and jumpedlightlyoverahole.Youriiwas glad that she, thismerry,handsomegirl,had

come, and he greeted herwithlaughingeyes."Let us go on," said

Sinashyly.Yourii obediently

advanced. No thoughts ofdanger troubled him now,and he was specially