The three of them sat down at the table. They began to drink vodka, and to eat tarts. They drank more than they ate. Peredonov was gloomy. Everything had already become a senseless and incoherent delirium for him. He had a painful headache. One picture repeated itself persistently—that of Volodin as an enemy. One idea importuned and assailed him ceaselessly: it was that he must kill Pavloushka before it was too late. And then all the inimical cunning would become revealed. As for Volodin, he was rapidly becoming drunk, and he kept up an incoherent jabber, much to Varvara's amusement.
Peredonov seemed restless. He mumbled:
"Someone is coming. Don't let anyone in. Tell them that I have gone away to pray at theTarakani[1]monastery."
He was afraid that visitors might hinder him. Volodin and Varvara were amused—they thought that he was only drunk. They exchanged winks, and walked out separately and knocked on the door, and said in different voices:
"Is General Peredonov at home?"
"I've brought General Peredonov a diamond star."
But the star did not tempt Peredonov that evening. He shouted:
"Don't let them in! Chuck them out! Let them bring it in the morning. Now is not the time."
"No," he thought, "I need all my strength to-night. Everything will be revealed to-night—but until then my enemies are ready to send anything and everything against me to destroy me."
"Well, we've chased them away. They'll bring it to-morrow morning," said Volodin, as he seated himself once more at the table.
Peredonov fixed his troubled eyes upon him, and asked:
"Are you a friend to me or an enemy?"
"A friend, a friend, Ardasha!" replied Volodin.
"A friend with true love is like a beetle behind the stove," said Varvara.
"Not a beetle but a ram," corrected Peredonov. "Well, you and I will drink together, Pavloushka, only we two. And you, Varvara, drink also—we'll drink together, we two."
Volodin said with a snigger:
"If Varvara Dmitrievna drinks with us, it won't be two but three."
"Two, I say," repeated Peredonov morosely.
"Husband and wife are one Satan," said Varvara, and began to laugh.
Volodin did not suspect to the last minute that Peredonov wanted to kill him. He kept on bleating, making a fool of himself, and uttering nonsense, which made Varvara laugh. But Peredonov did not forget his knife the whole evening. When Volodin or Varvara walked up to that side where the knife was hidden, Peredonov savagely warned them off. Sometimes he pointed at his pocket and said:
"I have a trick here, Pavloushka, that will make you quack."
Varvara and Volodin laughed.
"I can always quack, Ardasha," said Volodin. "Kra, Kra. It's quite easy."
Red, and drunken with vodka, Volodin protruded his lips and quacked. He became more and more arrogant towards Peredonov.
"You've been taken in, Ardasha," he said with contemptuous pity.
"I'll take you in," bellowed Peredonov in fury.
Volodin appeared terrible to him and menacing. He must defend himself. Peredonov quickly pulled out his knife, threw himself on Volodin, and slashed him across his throat. The blood gushed out in a stream.
Peredonov was frightened. The knife fell out of his hands. Volodin kept up his bleat, and tried to catch hold of his throat with his hands. It was evident that he was deadly frightened, that he was growing weaker, and that his hands would never reach his throat. Suddenly he grew deathly pale, and fell on Peredonov. There was a broken squeal—as if he choked—then he was silent. Peredonov cried out in horror, and Varvara after him.
Peredonov pushed Volodin away. Volodin fell heavily to the floor. He groaned, moved his feet, and was soon dead. His open eyes grew glassy, and their fixed stare was directed upwards. The cat walked out of the next room, smelt the blood, and mewed malignantly. Varvara stood as if in a trance. Klavdia upon hearing the noise, came running in.
"Oh, Lord, they've cut his throat," she wailed.
Varvara roused herself, and with a scream rushed from the dining-room together with Klavdia.
The news of the event spread quickly. The neighbours collected in the street, and in the garden. The bolder ones went into the house. They did not venture to enter the dining-room for some time. They peeped in and whispered. Peredonov was looking at the corpse with his vacant eyes, and listened to the whispers behind the door.... A dull sadness tormented him. He had no thoughts.
At last they grew bolder, and entered. Peredonov was sitting with downcast eyes, and mumbling incoherent, meaningless words.
[1]Tarakan is Russian for blackbeetle.
[1]Tarakan is Russian for blackbeetle.
TRANSLATORS' PREFACEAUTHOR'S PREFACE (Russian 1908)AUTHOR'S PREFACE (Russian 1909)DIALOGUEAUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION
IXVIIIIXVIIIIIIXIXIVXXVXXIVIXXIIVIIXXIIIVIIIXXIVIXXXVXXXVIXIXXVIIXIIXXVIIIXIIIXXIXXIVXXXXVXXXIXVIXXXII