Resurrection - Leo Nikoleyevich Tolstoy (interesting novels in english .TXT) 📗
- Author: Leo Nikoleyevich Tolstoy
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and a porter with a white apron carefully carried out the
long-faced Princess in her folding chair. The sisters greeted
each other, and French sentences began flying about. Would the
Princess go in a closed or an open carriage? At last the
procession started towards the exit, the lady’s maid, with her
curly fringe, parasol and leather case in the rear.
Nekhludoff not wishing to meet them and to have to take leave
over again, stopped before he got to the door, waiting for the
procession to pass.
The Princess, her son, Missy, the doctor, and the maid went out
first, the old Prince and his sister-in-law remained behind.
Nekhludoff was too far to catch anything but a few disconnected
French sentences of their conversation One of the sentences
uttered by the Prince, as it often happens, for some
unaccountable reason remained in his memory with all its
intonations and the sound of the voice.
“Oh, il est du vrai grand monde, du vrai grand monde,” said the
Prince in his loud, self-assured tone as he went out of the
station with his sister-in-law, accompanied by the respectful
guards and porters.
At this moment from behind the corner of the station suddenly
appeared a crowd of workmen in bark shoes, wearing sheepskin
coats and carrying bags on their backs. The workmen went up to
the nearest carriage with soft yet determined steps, and were
about to get in, but were at once driven away by a guard. Without
stopping, the workmen passed on, hurrying and jostling one
another, to the next carriage and began getting in, catching
their bags against the corners and door of the carriage, but
another guard caught sight of them from the door of the station,
and shouted at them severely. The workmen, who had already got
in, hurried out again and went on, with the same soft and firm
steps, still further towards Nekhludoff’s carriage. A guard was
again going to stop them, but Nekhludoff said there was plenty of
room inside, and that they had better get in. They obeyed and got
in, followed by Nekhludoff.
The workmen were about to take their seats, when the gentleman
with the cockade and the two ladies, looking at this attempt to
settle in their carriage as a personal insult to themselves,
indignantly protested and wanted to turn them out. The
workmen—there were 20 of them, old men and quite young ones, all
of them wearied, sunburnt, with haggard faces—began at once to
move on through the carriage, catching the seats, the walls, and
the doors with their bags. They evidently felt they had offended
in some way, and seemed ready to go on indefinitely wherever they
were ordered to go.
“Where are you pushing to, you fiends? Sit down here,” shouted
another guard they met.
“Voild encore des nouvelles,” exclaimed the younger of the two
ladies, quite convinced that she would attract Nekhludoff’s
notice by her good French.
The other lady with the bracelets kept sniffing and making faces,
and remarked something about how pleasant it was to sit with
smelly peasants.
The workmen, who felt the joy and calm experienced by people who
have escaped some kind of danger, threw off their heavy bags with
a movement of their shoulders and stowed them away under the
seats.
The gardener had left his own seat to talk with Taras, and now
went back, so that there were two unoccupied seats opposite and
one next to Taras. Three of the workmen took these seats, but
when Nekhludoff came up to them, in his gentleman’s clothing,
they got so confused that they rose to go away, but Nekhludoff
asked them to stay, and himself sat down on the arm of the seat,
by the passage down the middle of the carriage.
One of the workmen, a man of about 50, exchanged a surprised and
even frightened look with a young man. That Nekhludoff, instead
of scolding and driving them away, as was natural to a gentleman,
should give up his seat to them, astonished and perplexed them.
They even feared that this might have some evil result for them.
However, they soon noticed that there was no underlying plot when
they heard Nekhludoff talking quite simply with Taras, and they
grew quiet and told one of the lads to sit down on his bag and
give his seat to Nekhludoff. At first the elderly workman who sat
opposite Nekhludoff shrank and drew back his legs for fear of
touching the gentleman, but after a while he grew quite friendly,
and in talking to him and Taras even slapped Nekhludoff on the
knee when he wanted to draw special attention to what he was
saying.
He told them all about his position and his work in the peat
bogs, whence he was now returning home. He had been working there
for two and a half months, and was bringing home his wages, which
only came to 10 roubles, since part had been paid beforehand when
he was hired. They worked, as he explained, up to their knees in
water from sunrise to sunset, with two hours’ interval for
dinner.
“Those who are not used to it find it hard, of course,” he said;
“but when one’s hardened it doesn’t matter, if only the food is
right. At first the food was bad. Later the people complained,
and they got good food, and it was easy to work.”
Then he told them how, during 28 years he went out to work, and
sent all his earnings home. First to his father, then to his
eldest brother, and now to his nephew, who was at the head of the
household. On himself he spent only two or three roubles of the
50 or 60 he earned a year, just for luxuries—tobacco and
matches.
“I’m a sinner, when tired I even drink a little vodka sometimes,”
he added, with a guilty smile.
Then he told them how the women did the work at home, and how the
contractor had treated them to half a pail of vodka before they
started to-day, how one of them had died, and another was
returning home ill. The sick workman he was talking about was in
a corner of the same carriage. He was a young lad, with a pale,
sallow face and bluish lips. He was evidently tormented by
intermittent fever. Nekhludoff went up to him, but the lad looked
up with such a severe and suffering expression that Nekhludoff
did not care to bother him with questions, but advised the elder
man to give him quinine, and wrote down the name of the medicine.
He wished to give him some money, but the old workman said he
would pay for it himself.
“Well, much as I have travelled, I have never met such a
gentleman before. Instead of punching your head, he actually
gives up his place to you,” said the old man to Taras. “It seems
there are all sorts of gentlefolk, too.”
“Yes, this is quite a new and different world,” thought
Nekhludoff, looking at these spare, sinewy, limbs, coarse,
home-made garments, and sunburnt, kindly, though weary-looking
faces, and feeling himself surrounded on all sides with new
people and the serious interests, joys, and sufferings of a life
of labour.
“Here is_ le vrai grand monde_,” thought Nekhludoff, remembering
the words of Prince Korchagin and all that idle, luxurious world
to which the Korchagins belonged, with their petty, mean
interests. And he felt the joy of a traveller on discovering a
new, unknown, and beautiful world.
END OF BOOK II.
BOOK III.
CHAPTER I.
MASLOVA MAKES NEW FRIENDS.
The gang of prisoners to which Maslova belonged had walked about
three thousand three hundred miles. She and the other prisoners
condemned for criminal offences had travelled by rail and by
steamboats as far as the town of Perm. It was only here that
Nekhludoff succeeded in obtaining a permission for her to
continue the journey with the political prisoners, as Vera
Doukhova, who was among the latter, advised him to do. The
journey up to Perm had been very trying to Maslova both morally
and physically. Physically, because of the overcrowding, the
dirt, and the disgusting vermin, which gave her no peace;
morally, because of the equally disgusting men. The men, like the
vermin, though they changed at each halting-place, were
everywhere alike importunate; they swarmed round her, giving her
no rest. Among the women prisoners and the men prisoners, the
jailers and the convoy soldiers, the habit of a kind of cynical
debauch was so firmly established that unless a female prisoner
was willing to utilise her position as a woman she had to be
constantly on the watch. To be continually in a state of fear and
strife was very trying. And Maslova was specially exposed to
attacks, her appearance being attractive and her past known to
every one. The decided resistance with which she now met the
importunity of all the men seemed offensive to them, and awakened
another feeling, that of ill-will towards her. But her position
was made a little easier by her intimacy with Theodosia, and
Theodosia’s husband, who, having heard of the molestations his
wife was subject to, had in Nijni been arrested at his own desire
in order to be able to protect her, and was now travelling with
the gang as a prisoner. Maslova’s position became much more
bearable when she was allowed to join the political prisoners,
who were provided with better accomodations, better food, and
were treated less rudely, but besides all this Maslova’s
condition was much improved because among the political prisoners
she was no longer molested by the men, and could live without
being reminded of that past which she was so anxious to forget.
But the chief advantage of the change lay in the fact that she
made the acquaintance of several persons who exercised a decided
and most beneficial influence on her character. Maslova was
allowed to stop with the political prisoners at all the
halting-places, but being a strong and healthy woman she was
obliged to march with the criminal convicts. In this way she
walked all the way from Tomsk. Two political prisoners also
marched with the gang, Mary Pavlovna Schetinina, the girl with
the hazel eyes who had attracted Nekhludoff’s attention when he
had been to visit Doukhova in prison, and one Simonson, who was
on his way to the Takoutsk district, the dishevelled dark young
fellow with deeplying eyes, whom Nekhludoff had also noticed
during that visit. Mary Pavlovna was walking because she had
given her place on the cart to one of the criminals, a woman
expecting to be confined, and Simonson because he did not dare to
avail himself of a class privilege.
These three always started early in the morning before the rest
of the political prisoners, who followed later on in the carts.
They were ready to start in this way just outside a large town,
where a new convoy officer had taken charge of the gang.
It was early on a dull September morning. It kept raining and
snowing alternately, and the cold wind blew in sudden gusts. The
whole gang of prisoners, consisting of four hundred men and fifty
women, was already assembled in the court of the halting station.
Some of them were crowding round the chief of the convoy, who was
giving to specially appointed prisoners money for two days’ keep
to distribute among the rest, while others were purchasing food
from women who had been let into the courtyard. One could hear
the voices of the prisoners counting their money and making their
purchases, and the shrill voices of the women with the food.
Simonson, in his
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