What did he say about me as you came along?
How did he seem to you – morose, angry?
Tss!
Here he is!
Afterwards, my dear, tell me afterwards....
Don’t forget to come tomorrow.”
Chapter XIII
THE old man came in.
He looked at us with curiosity and as though ashamed of something, frowned and went up to the table.
“Where’s the samovar?” he asked. “Do you mean to say she couldn’t bring it till now?”
“It’s coming, my dear, it’s coming. Here, she’s brought it!” said Anna Andreyevna fussily.
Matryona appeared with the samovar as soon as she saw Nikolay Serge, as though she had been waiting to bring it till he came in.
She was an old, tried and devoted servant, but the most selfwilled and grumbling creature in the world, with an obstinate and stubborn character.
She was afraid of Nikolay Sergeyitch and always curbed her tongue in his presence.
But she madeup for it with Anna Andreyevna, was rude to her at every turn, and openly attempted to govern her mistress , though at the same time she had a warm and genuine affection for her and for Natasha.
I had known Matryona in the old days at Ichmenyevka.
“Hm! ... It’s not pleasant when one’s wet through and they won’t even get one tea,” the old man muttered.
Anna Andreyevna at once made a sign to me.
He could not endure these mysterious signals; and though at the minute he tried not to look at us, one could see from his face that Anna Andreyevna had just signalled to me about him, and that he was fully aware of it.
“I have been to see about my case, Vanya,” he began suddenly.
“It’s a wretched business.
Did I tell you?
It’s going against me altogether.
It appears I’ve no proofs; none of the papers I ought to have. My facts cannot be authenticated it seems. Hm!...”
He was speaking of his lawsuit with the prince, which was still dragging on, but had taken a very bad turn for Nikolay Sergevitch.
I was silent, not knowing what to answer.
He looked suspiciously at me.
“Well!” he brought out suddenly, as though irritated by our silence, “the quicker the better!
They won’t make a scoundrel of me, even if they do decide I must pay.
I have my conscience, so let them decide.
Anyway, the case will be over; it will be settled. I shall be ruined ... I’ll give up everything and go to Siberia.”
“Good heavens! What a place to go to!
And why so far?” Anna Andreyevna could not resist saying.
“And here what are we near?” he asked gruffly, as though glad of the objection.
“Why, near people . . . anyway,” began Anna Andreyevna, and she glanced at me in distress.
“What sort of people?” he cried, turning his feverish eyes from me to her and back again. “What people?
Robbers, slanderers, traitors?
There are plenty such everywhere; don’t be uneasy, we shall find them in Siberia too.
If you don’t want to come with me you can stay here. I won’t take you against your will.”
“Nikolay Sergeyitch, my dear!
With whom should I stay without you?
Why, I’ve no one but you in the whole ...”
She faltered, broke off, and turned to me with a look of alarm, as though begging for help and support.
The old man was irritated and was ready to take offence at anything; it was impossible to contradict him.
“Come now, Anna Andreyevna,” said I. “It’s not half as bad in Siberia as you think.
If the worst comes to the worst and you have to sell Ichmenyevka, Nikolay Sergeyitch’s plan is very good in fact.
In Siberia you might get a good private job, and then...”
“Well, you’re talking sense, Ivan, anyway.
That’s just what I thought.
I’ll give up everything and go away.”