People recalled that he "had never hurt a single person," that "he had never uttered a cross word to anyone," nor thrown anyone a look of ill-will—all qualities that had appeared purely negative, but now assumed a positive character.
Many seemed to repent that at times they had taken advantage of the dead man's simplicity—but after all, who knew that the simple soul was destined to so speedy an end?
One peasant brought Yudushka three silver rubles and said:
"Here's a little debt I owe Pavel Vladimirych.
No writing passed between us. Here, take it."
Yudushka took the money, praised the peasant, and said he would donate the three silver rubles for oil to burn forever before an ikon in the church.
"You, my dear friend, will see the flame, and everybody will see it, and the soul of my deceased brother will rejoice.
Maybe he will obtain something for you in Heaven.
You won't be expecting anything—and suddenly the Lord will send you luck."
Very probably the high estimate of the deceased's virtues was largely based on a comparison between him and his brother.
People did not like Yudushka.
Not that they couldn't get the better of him, but that he was entirely too much of a nuisance with his scrape-penny ways.
Very few could bring themselves to lease land from him. They were afraid of his passion for litigation.
He dragged any number of people to court, wasted their time, and won nothing, because his pettifogging habits were so well known in the district that almost without listening to the case the courts dismissed his claims.
Since meanness, or, to be more exact, a kind of moral hardness, especially when under the mask of hypocrisy, always inspires a sort of superstitious fear, Yudushka's neighbors bowed waist low as they passed by the Bloodsucker, standing all in black beside the coffin with palms crossed and eyes raised upward.
As long as the deceased lay in the house, the family walked about on tip-toe, stole glances into the dining-room, where the coffin stood on the table, wagged their heads, and talked in whispers.
Yudushka pretended to be overcome by the disaster, and shuffled painfully along the corridor, paid a visit to the "dear deceased," affected deep emotional stress, arranged the pall on the coffin, and whispered to the commissioner of police, who was taking the inventory and affixing the seal.
Petenka and Volodenka busied themselves about the coffin, placing and lighting the candles, handing over the censer, and so forth.
Anninka and Lubinka cried and through their tears helped the chanters sing the mass for the dead in thin little voices.
The woman servants, dressed in black calico, wiped their noses red from weeping on their aprons.
Immediately after the death of Pavel Vladimirych, Arina Petrovna went up to her room and locked herself in.
She was not disposed to weep, for she realized that she had to decide upon a course of action immediately.
To remain at Dubrovino was out of the question. Consequently, she had only one choice, to go to Pogorelka, the orphans' estate, the "bone" that she had once thrown to her disrespectful daughter, Anna Vladimirovna.
Arriving at this decision, she felt relieved, as though Yudushka had suddenly and forever lost all power over her.
Calmly she counted her five per cent. Government bonds. They totalled fifteen thousand rubles of her own, and as much belonging to the orphans, which she had saved up for them. And she went on composedly to calculate how much money she would have to spend to put the Pogorelka manor-house in order.
Then she immediately sent for the bailiff of Pogorelka, gave the necessary orders about hiring carpenters and sending a horse and cart to Dubrovino for her and the orphans' belongings, ordered the coach to be made ready (the coach was her own, and she had evidence that it was her very own), and began to pack.
She felt neither hatred nor goodwill toward Yudushka. It suddenly became disgusting to her to have any dealings with him.
She even ate unwillingly and little, because from that day she had to eat not Pavel's but Yudushka's food.
Several times Porfiry Vladimirych peeped into her room to have a chat with his "mother dear." He understood the meaning of her packing clearly, but pretended to notice nothing. Arina Petrovna refused to see him.
"Go, my friend, go," she said. "I have no time."
In three days, Arina Petrovna had everything in readiness for departure.
They heard mass, performed the funeral service, and buried Pavel Vladimirych.
At the funeral everything happened just as Arina Petrovna had imagined on the morning when Yudushka came to Dubrovino.
In the very way she had foreseen Yudushka cried out,
"Farewell, brother!" when they lowered the coffin into the grave, and turned to Ulita and said hastily:
"Don't forget—don't forget to take the kutya, and put it in the dining-room on a clean table cloth. We will honor brother's memory in the house, too."
Three churchmen, the Father Provost and a deacon, were invited to the dinner served, as is the custom, immediately on the return from the funeral ceremony.
A special table was laid in the entrance hall for the sextons.
Arina Petrovna and the orphans entered clad in travelling clothes, but Yudushka pretended even then not to understand.
He went over to the table, requested the Father Provost to bless the food and drink, poured a glassful of vodka for himself and the churchmen, put on an air of deep emotion and said,
"Everlasting memory to the late deceased!
Ah, brother, brother, you have forsaken us! Who of us more than you was fit to live a happy life?
How sad, brother, how sad!"
Then he crossed himself, and emptied the glass.
He crossed himself again and swallowed a piece of caviar, crossed himself again and took a taste of dried sturgeon.
"Eat, Father," he urged the Provost. "All this is my late brother's stock. How the deceased loved good fare!
Not only that he ate well himself, but he even liked treating others better.
Ah, brother, brother, you have forsaken us!
How wrong it was of you, brother, how very wrong!"
He was so carried away by his incessant chatter that he even forgot about his dear mother.