________________________________________________
_ Late that evening, after writing this letter, Olenin went to his
hosts' hut. The old woman was sitting on a bench behind the oven
unwinding cocoons. Maryanka with her head uncovered sat sewing by
the light of a candle. On seeing Olenin she jumped up, took her
kerchief and stepped to the oven. 'Maryanka dear,' said her
mother, 'won't you sit here with me a bit?' 'No, I'm bareheaded,'
she replied, and sprang up on the oven. Olenin could only see a
knee, and one of her shapely legs hanging down from the oven. He
treated the old woman to tea. She treated her guest to clotted cream
which she sent Maryanka to fetch. But having put a plateful on the
table Maryanka again sprang on the oven from whence Olenin felt her
eyes upon him. They talked about household matters. Granny Ulitka
became animated and went into raptures of hospitality. She brought
Olenin preserved grapes and a grape tart and some of her best wine,
and pressed him to eat and drink with the rough yet proud hospitality
of country folk, only found among those who produce their bread by
the labour of their own hands. The old woman, who had at first struck
Olenin so much by her rudeness, now often touched him by her simple
tenderness towards her daughter.
'Yes, we need not offend the Lord by grumbling! We have enough of
everything, thank God. We have pressed sufficient CHIKHIR and have
preserved and shall sell three or four barrels of grapes and have
enough left to drink. Don't be in a hurry to leave us. We will
make merry together at the wedding.'
'And when is the wedding to be?' asked Olenin, feeling his blood
suddenly rush to his face while his heart beat irregularly and
painfully.
He heard a movement on the oven and the sound of seeds being
cracked.
'Well, you know, it ought to be next week. We are quite ready,'
replied the old woman, as simply and quietly as though Olenin did
not exist. 'I have prepared and have procured everything for
Maryanka. We will give her away properly. Only there's one thing
not quite right. Our Lukashka has been running rather wild. He has
been too much on the spree! He's up to tricks! The other day a
Cossack came here from his company and said he had been to Nogay.'
'He must mind he does not get caught,' said Olenin.
'Yes, that's what I tell him. "Mind, Lukashka, don't you get into
mischief. Well, of course, a young fellow naturally wants to cut a
dash. But there's a time for everything. Well, you've captured or
stolen something and killed an abrek! Well, you're a fine fellow!
But now you should live quietly for a bit, or else there'll be
trouble."'
'Yes, I saw him a time or two in the division, he was always
merry-making. He has sold another horse,' said Olenin, and glanced
towards the oven. A pair of large, dark, and hostile eyes
glittered as they gazed severely at him.
He became ashamed of what he had said. 'What of it? He does no one
any harm,' suddenly remarked Maryanka. 'He makes merry with his
own money,' and lowering her legs she jumped down from the oven
and went out banging the door.
Olenin followed her with his eyes as long as she was in the hut,
and then looked at the door and waited, understanding nothing of
what Granny Ulitka was telling him.
A few minutes later some visitors arrived: an old man, Granny
Ulitka's brother, with Daddy Eroshka, and following them came
Maryanka and Ustenka.
'Good evening,' squeaked Ustenka. 'Still on holiday?' she added,
turning to Olenin.
'Yes, still on holiday,' he replied, and felt, he did not know
why, ashamed and ill at ease.
He wished to go away but could not. It also seemed to him
impossible to remain silent. The old man helped him by asking for
a drink, and they had a drink. Olenin drank with Eroshka, with the
other Cossack, and again with Eroshka, and the more he drank the
heavier was his heart. But the two old men grew merry. The girls
climbed onto the oven, where they sat whispering and looking at
the men, who drank till it was late. Olenin did not talk, but
drank more than the others. The Cossacks were shouting. The old
woman would not let them have any more chikhir, and at last turned
them out. The girls laughed at Daddy Eroshka, and it was past ten
when they all went out into the porch. The old men invited
themselves to finish their merry-making at Olenin's. Ustenka ran
off home and Eroshka led the old Cossack to Vanyusha. The old
woman went out to tidy up the shed. Maryanka remained alone in the
hut. Olenin felt fresh and joyous, as if he had only just woke up.
He noticed everything, and having let the old men pass ahead he
turned back to the hut where Maryanka was preparing for bed. He
went up to her and wished to say something, but his voice broke.
She moved away from him, sat down cross-legged on her bed in the
corner, and looked at him silently with wild and frightened eyes.
She was evidently afraid of him. Olenin felt this. He felt sorry
and ashamed of himself, and at the same time proud and pleased
that he aroused even that feeling in her.
'Maryanka!' he said. 'Will you never take pity on me? I can't tell
you how I love you.'
She moved still farther away.
'Just hear how the wine is speaking! ... You'll get nothing from
me!'
'No, it is not the wine. Don't marry Lukashka. I will marry you.'
('What am I saying,' he thought as he uttered these words. 'Shall
I be able to say the same to-morrow?' 'Yes, I shall, I am sure I
shall, and I will repeat them now,' replied an inner voice.)
'Will you marry me?'
She looked at him seriously and her fear seemed to have passed.
'Maryanka, I shall go out of my mind! I am not myself. I will do
whatever you command,' and madly tender words came from his lips
of their own accord.
'Now then, what are you drivelling about?' she interrupted,
suddenly seizing the arm he was stretching towards her. She did
not push his arm away but pressed it firmly with her strong hard
fingers. 'Do gentlemen marry Cossack girls? Go away!'
'But will you? Everything...'
'And what shall we do with Lukashka?' said she, laughing.
He snatched away the arm she was holding and firmly embraced her
young body, but she sprang away like a fawn and ran barefoot into
the porch: Olenin came to his senses and was terrified at himself.
He again felt himself inexpressibly vile compared to her, yet not
repenting for an instant of what he had said he went home, and
without even glancing at the old men who were drinking in his room
he lay down and fell asleep more soundly than he had done for a
long time. _
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