Taras Bulba and Other Tales
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第63章

They flung themselves upon the sacks: only broken potsherds lay there instead of ducats.The Cossacks stood with staring eyes and open mouths, as if rooted to the earth, not daring to move a hair, such terror did this wonder inspire in them.

I do not remember what happened next.Pidorka made a vow to go upon a pilgrimage, collected the property left her by her father, and in a few days it was as if she had never been in the village.Whither she had gone, no one could tell.Officious old women would have despatched her to the same place whither Peter had gone; but a Cossack from Kief reported that he had seen, in a cloister, a nun withered to a mere skeleton who prayed unceasingly.Her fellow-villagers recognised her as Pidorka by the tokens--that no one heard her utter a word; and that she had come on foot, and had brought a frame for the picture of God's mother, set with such brilliant stones that all were dazzled at the sight.

But this was not the end, if you please.On the same day that the Evil One made away with Peter, Basavriuk appeared again; but all fled from him.They knew what sort of a being he was--none else than Satan, who had assumed human form in order to unearth treasures; and, since treasures do not yield to unclean hands, he seduced the young.That same year, all deserted their earthen huts and collected in a village;but even there there was no peace on account of that accursed Basavriuk.

My late grandfather's aunt said that he was particularly angry with her because she had abandoned her former tavern, and tried with all his might to revenge himself upon her.Once the village elders were assembled in the tavern, and, as the saying goes, were arranging the precedence at the table, in the middle of which was placed a small roasted lamb, shame to say.They chattered about this, that, and the other--among the rest about various marvels and strange things.Well, they saw something; it would have been nothing if only one had seen it, but all saw it, and it was this: the sheep raised his head, his goggling eyes became alive and sparkled; and the black, bristling moustache, which appeared for one instant, made a significant gesture at those present.All at once recognised Basavriuk's countenance in the sheep's head; my grandfather's aunt thought it was on the point of asking for vodka.The worthy elders seized their hats and hastened home.

Another time, the church elder himself, who was fond of an occasional private interview with my grandfather's brandy-glass, had not succeeded in getting to the bottom twice, when he beheld the glass bowing very low to him."Satan take you, let us make the sign of the cross over you!"--And the same marvel happened to his better half.She had just begun to mix the dough in a huge kneading-trough when suddenly the trough sprang up."Stop, stop! where are you going?"Putting its arms akimbo, with dignity, it went skipping all about the cottage--you may laugh, but it was no laughing matter to our grandfathers.And in vain did Father Athanasii go through all the village with holy water, and chase the Devil through all the streets with his brush.My late grandfather's aunt long complained that, as soon as it was dark, some one came knocking at her door and scratching at the wall.

Well! All appears to be quiet now in the place where our village stands; but it was not so very long ago--my father was still alive--that I remember how a good man could not pass the ruined tavern which a dishonest race had long managed for their own interest.From the smoke-blackened chimneys smoke poured out in a pillar, and rising high in the air, rolled off like a cap, scattering burning coals over the steppe; and Satan (the son of a dog should not be mentioned)sobbed so pitifully in his lair that the startled ravens rose in flocks from the neighbouring oak-wood and flew through the air with wild cries.

THE CLOAK

In the department of--but it is better not to mention the department.

There is nothing more irritable than departments, regiments, courts of justice, and, in a word, every branch of public service.Each individual attached to them nowadays thinks all society insulted in his person.Quite recently a complaint was received from a justice of the peace, in which he plainly demonstrated that all the imperial institutions were going to the dogs, and that the Czar's sacred name was being taken in vain; and in proof he appended to the complaint a romance in which the justice of the peace is made to appear about once every ten lines, and sometimes in a drunken condition.Therefore, in order to avoid all unpleasantness, it will be better to describe the department in question only as a certain department.

So, in a certain department there was a certain official--not a very high one, it must be allowed--short of stature, somewhat pock-marked, red-haired, and short-sighted, with a bald forehead, wrinkled cheeks, and a complexion of the kind known as sanguine.The St.Petersburg climate was responsible for this.As for his official status, he was what is called a perpetual titular councillor, over which, as is well known, some writers make merry, and crack their jokes, obeying the praiseworthy custom of attacking those who cannot bite back.

His family name was Bashmatchkin.This name is evidently derived from "bashmak" (shoe); but when, at what time, and in what manner, is not known.His father and grandfather, and all the Bashmatchkins, always wore boots, which only had new heels two or three times a year.His name was Akakiy Akakievitch.It may strike the reader as rather singular and far-fetched, but he may rest assured that it was by no means far-fetched, and that the circumstances were such that it would have been impossible to give him any other.

This is how it came about.