“He scented3 me!” she thought idly and faintly. “He noticed — he guessed.” Further than this her thoughts would not go, and she sank into an oppressive despondency. The nausea, the spiritless stillness beyond the window that replaced the noise, disclosed something huge, but subdued4, something frightening, which sharpened her feeling of solitude5, her consciousness of powerlessness, and filled her heart with ashen6 gloom.
The young girl came in and stopped at the door.
“Shall I bring you an omelette?”
“No, thank you, I don’t want it; the shouts frightened me.”
The girl walked up to the table and began to speak excitedly in hasty, terror-stricken tones:
“How the police commissioner7 beat him! I stood near and could see. All his teeth were broken. He spit out and his teeth fell on the ground. The blood came thick — thick and dark. You couldn’t see his eyes at all; they were swollen8 up. He’s a tar9 man. The sergeant10 is in there in our place drunk, but he keeps on calling for whisky. They say there was a whole band of them, and that this bearded man was their elder, the hetman. Three were captured and one escaped. They seized a teacher, too; he was also with them. They don’t believe in God, and they try to persuade others to rob all the churches. That’s the kind of people they are; and our peasants, some of them pitied him — that fellow — and others say they should have settled him for good and all. We have such mean peasants here! Oh, my! oh, my!”
The mother, by giving the girl’s disconnected, rapid talk her fixed11 attention, tried to stifle12 her uneasiness, to dissipate her dismal13 forebodings. As for the girl, she must have rejoiced in an auditor14. Her words fairly choked her and she babbled15 on in lowered voice with greater and greater animation16:
“Papa says it all comes from the poor crop. This is the second year we’ve had a bad harvest. The people are exhausted17. That’s the reason we have such peasants springing up now. What a shame! You ought to hear them shout and fight at the village assemblies. The other day when Vosynkov was sold out for arrears18 he dealt the starosta (bailiff) a cracking blow on the face. ‘There are my arrears for you!’ he says.”
Heavy steps were heard at the door. The mother rose to her feet with difficulty. The blue-eyed peasant came in, and taking off his hat asked:
“Where is the baggage?”
He lifted the valise lightly, shook it, and said:
“Why, it’s empty! Marya, show the guest the way to my house,” and he walked off without looking around.
“Are you going to stay here overnight?” asked the girl.
“Yes. I’m after lace; I buy lace.”
“They don’t make lace here. They make lace in Tinkov and in Daryina, but not among us.”
“I’m going there to-morrow; I’m tired.”
On paying for the tea she made the girl very happy by handing her three kopecks. On the road the girl’s feet splashed quickly in the mud.
“If you want to, I’ll run over to Daryina, and I’ll tell the women to bring their lace here. That’ll save your going there. It’s about eight miles.”
“That’s not necessary, my dear.”
The cold air refreshed the mother as she stepped along beside the girl. A resolution slowly formulated20 itself in her mind — confused, but fraught21 with a promise. She wished to hasten its growth, and asked herself persistently22: “How shall I behave? Suppose I come straight out with the truth?”
It was dark, damp, and cold. The windows of the peasants’ huts shone dimly with a motionless reddish light; the cattle lowed drowsily23 in the stillness, and short halloos reverberated24 through the fields. The village was clothed in darkness and an oppressive melancholy25.
“Here!” said the girl, “you’ve chosen a poor lodging26 for yourself. This peasant is very poor.” She opened the door and shouted briskly into the hut: “Aunt Tatyana, a lodger27 has come!” She ran away, her “Good-by!” flying back from the darkness.
The mother stopped at the threshold and peered about with her palm above her eyes. The hut was very small, but its cleanness and neatness caught the eye at once. From behind the stove a young woman bowed silently and disappeared. On a table in a corner toward the front of the room burned a lamp. The master of the hut sat at the table, tapping his fingers on its edge. He fixed his glance on the mother’s eyes.
“Come in!” he said, after a deliberate pause.
“Tatyana, go call Pyotr. Quick!”
The woman hastened away without looking at her guest. The mother seated herself on the bench opposite the peasant and looked around — her valise was not in sight. An oppressive stillness filled the hut, broken only by the scarcely audible sputtering28 of the lamplight. The face of the peasant, preoccupied29 and gloomy wavered in vague outline before the eyes of the mother, and for some reason caused her dismal annoyance30.
“Well, why doesn’t he say something? Quick!”
“Where’s my valise?” Her loud, stern question coming suddenly was a surprise to herself. The peasant shrugged31 his shoulders and thoughtfully gave the indefinite answer:
“It’s safe.” He lowered his voice and continued gloomily: “Just now, in front of the girl, I said on purpose that it was empty. No, it’s not empty. It’s very heavily loaded.”
“Well, what of it?”
The peasant rose, approached her, bent32 over her, and whispered: “Do you know that man?”
The mother started, but answered firmly:
“I do.”
Her laconic33 reply, as it were, kindled34 a light within her which rendered everything outside clear. She sighed in relief. Shifting her position on the bench, she settled herself more firmly on it, while the peasant laughed broadly.
“I guessed it — when you made the sign — and he, too. I asked him, whispering in his ear, whether he knows the woman standing35 on the steps.”
“And what did he say?”
“He? He says ‘there are a great many of us.’ Yes —‘there are a great many of us,’ he says.”
The peasant looked into the eyes of his guest questioningly, and, smiling again, he continued:
“He’s a man of great force, he is brave, he speaks straight out. They beat him, and he keeps on his own way.”
The peasant’s uncertain, weak voice, his unfinished, but clear face, his open eyes, inspired the mother with more and more confidence. Instead of alarm and despondency, a sharp, shooting pity for Rybin filled her bosom36. Overwhelmed by her feelings, unable to restrain herself, she suddenly burst out in bitter malice37:
“Robbers, bigots!” and she broke into sobs38.
The peasant walked away from her, sullenly39 nodding his head.
“The authorities have hired a whole lot of assistants to do their dirty work for them. Yes, yes.” He turned abruptly40 toward the mother again and said softly: “Here’s what I guessed — that you have papers in the valise. Is that true?”
“Yes,” answered the mother simply, wiping away her tears. “I was bringing them to him.”
He lowered his brows, gathered his beard into his hand, and looking on the floor was silent for a time.
“The papers reached us, too; some books, also. We need them all. They are so true. I can do very little reading myself, but I have a friend — he can. My wife also reads to me.” The peasant pondered for a moment. “Now, then, what are you going to do with them — with the valise?”
The mother looked at him.
“I’ll leave it to you.”
He was not surprised, did not protest, but only said curtly41, “To us,” and nodded his head in assent42. He let go of his beard, but continued to comb it with his fingers as he sat down.
With inexorable, stubborn persistency43 the mother’s memory held up before her eyes the scene of Rybin’s torture. His image extinguished all thoughts in her mind. The pain and injury she felt for the man obscured every other sensation. Forgotten was the valise with the books and newspapers. She had feelings only for Rybin. Tears flowed constantly; her face was gloomy; but her voice did not tremble when she said to her host:
“They rob a man, they choke him, they trample44 him in the mud — the accursed! And when he says, ‘What are you doing, you godless men?’ they beat and torture him.”
“Power,” returned the peasant. “They have great power.”
“From where do they get it?” exclaimed the mother, thoroughly45 aroused. “From us, from the people — they get everything from us.”
“Ye-es,” drawled the peasant. “It’s a wheel.” He bent his head toward the door, listening attentively47. “They’re coming,” he said softly.
“Who?”
“Our people, I suppose.”
His wife entered. A freckled48 peasant, stooping, strode into the hut after her. He threw his cap into a corner, and quickly went up to their host.
“Well?”
The host nodded in confirmation49.
“Stepan,” said the wife, standing at the oven, “maybe our guest wants to eat something.”
“No, thank you, my dear.”
The freckled peasant moved toward the mother and said quietly, in a broken voice:
“Now, then, permit me to introduce myself to you. My name is Pyotr Yegorov Ryabinin, nicknamed Shilo — the Awl46. I understand something about your affairs. I can read and write. I’m no fool, so to speak.” He grasped the hand the mother extended to him, and wringing50 it, turned to the master of the house.
“There, Stepan, see, Varvara Nikolayevna is a good lady, true. But in regard to all this, she says it is nonsense, nothing but dreams. Boys and different students, she says, muddle51 the people’s mind with absurdities52. However, you saw just now a sober, steady man, as he ought to be, a peasant, arrested. Now, here is she, an elderly woman, and as to be seen, not of blue blood. Don’t be offended — what’s your station in life?”
He spoke53 quickly and distinctly, without taking breath. His little beard shook nervously54, and his dark eyes, which he screwed up, rapidly scanned the mother’s face and figure. Ragged55, crumpled56, his hair disheveled, he seemed just to have come from a fight, in which he had vanquished58 his opponent, and still to be flushed with the joy of victory. He pleased the mother with his sprightliness59 and his simple talk, which at once went straight to the point. She gave him a kind look as she answered his question. He once more shook her hand vigorously, and laughed softly.
“You see, Stepan, it’s a clean business, an excellent business. I told you so. This is the way it is: the people, so to speak, are beginning to take things into their own hands. And as to the lady — she won’t tell you the truth; it’s harmful to her. I respect her, I must say; she’s a good person, and wishes us well — well, a little bit, and provided it won’t harm her any. But the people want to go straight, and they fear no loss and no harm — you see? — all life is harmful to them; they have no place to turn to; they have nothing all around except ‘Stop!’ which is shouted at them from all sides.”
“I see,” said Stepan, nodding and immediately adding: “She’s uneasy about her baggage.”
Pyotr gave the mother a shrewd wink60, and again reassured61 her:
“Don’t be uneasy; it’s all right. Everything will be all right, mother. Your valise is in my house. Just now when he told me about you — that you also participate in this work and that you know that man — I said to him: ‘Take care, Stepan! In such a serious business you must keep your mouth shut.’ Well, and you, too, mother, seem to have scented us when we stood near you. The faces of honest people can be told at once. Not many of them walk the streets, to speak frankly62. Your valise is in my house.” He sat down alongside of her and looked entreatingly63 into her eyes. “If you wish to empty it we’ll help you, with pleasure. We need books.”
“She wants to give us everything,” remarked Stepan.
“First rate, mother! We’ll find a place for all of it.” He jumped to his feet, burst into a laugh, and quickly pacing up and down the room said contentedly64: “The matter is perfectly65 simple: in one place it snaps, and in another it is tied up. Very well! And the newspaper, mother, is a good one, and does its work — it peels the people’s eyes open; it’s unpleasant to the masters. I do carpentry work for a lady about five miles from here — a good woman, I must admit. She gives me various books, sometimes very simple books. I read them over — I might as well fall asleep. In general we’re thankful to her. But I showed her one book and a number of a newspaper; she was somewhat offended. ‘drop it, Pyotr!’ she said. ‘Yes, this,’ she says, ‘is the work of senseless youngsters; from such a business your troubles can only increase; prison and Siberia for this,’ she says.”
He grew abruptly silent, reflected for a moment, and asked: “Tell me, mother, this man — is he a relative of yours?”
“A stranger.”
Pyotr threw his head back and laughed noiselessly, very well satisfied with something. To the mother, however, it seemed the very next instant that, in reference to Rybin, the word “stranger” was not in place; it jarred upon her.
“I’m not a relative of his; but I’ve known him for a long time, and I look up to him as to an elder brother.”
She was pained and displeased66 not to find the word she wanted, and she could not suppress a quiet groan67. A sad stillness pervaded68 the hut. Pyotr leaned his head upon one shoulder; his little beard, narrow and sharp, stuck out comically on one side, and gave his shadow swinging on the wall the appearance of a man sticking out his tongue teasingly. Stepan sat with his elbows on the table, and beat a tattoo69 on the boards. His wife stood at the oven without stirring; the mother felt her look riveted70 upon herself and often glanced at the woman’s face — oval, swarthy, with a straight nose, and a chin cut off short; her dark and thick eyebrows71 joined sternly, her eyelids72 drooped73, and from under them her greenish eyes shone sharply and intently.
“A friend, that is to say,” said Pyotr quietly. “He has character, indeed he has; he esteems74 himself highly, as he ought to; he has put a high price on himself, as he ought to. There’s a man, Tatyana! You say ——”
“Is he married?” Tatyana interposed, and compressed the thin lips of her small mouth.
“He’s a widower,” answered the mother sadly.
“That’s why he’s so brave,” remarked Tatyana. Her utterance75 was low and difficult. “A married man like him wouldn’t go — he’d be afraid.”
“And I? I’m married and everything, and yet —” exclaimed Pyotr.
“Enough!” she said without looking at him and twisting her lips. “Well, what are you? You only talk a whole lot, and on rare occasions you read a book. It doesn’t do people much good for you and Stepan to whisper to each other on the corners.”
“Why, sister, many people hear me,” quietly retorted the peasant, offended. “I act as a sort of yeast76 here. It isn’t fair in you to speak that way.”
Stepan looked at his wife silently and again drooped his head.
“And why should a peasant marry?” asked Tatyana. “He needs a worker, they say. What work?”
“You haven’t enough? You want more?” Stepan interjected dully.
“But what sense is there in the work we do? We go half-hungry from day to day anyhow. Children are born; there’s no time to look after them on account of the work that doesn’t give us bread.” She walked up to the mother, sat down next to her, and spoke on stubbornly, no plaint nor mourning in her voice. “I had two children; one, when he was two years old, was boiled to death in hot water; the other was born dead — from this thrice-accursed work. Such a happy life! I say a peasant has no business to marry. He only binds77 his hands. If he were free he would work up to a system of life needed by everybody. He would come out directly and openly for the truth. Am I right, mother?”
“You are. You’re right, my dear. Otherwise we can’t conquer life.”
“Have you a husband?”
“He died. I have a son.”
“And where is he? Does he live with you?”
“He’s in prison.” The mother suddenly felt a calm pride in these words, usually painful to her. “This is the second time — all because he came to understand God’s truth and sowed it openly without sparing himself. He’s a young man, handsome, intelligent; he planned a newspaper, and gave Mikhail Ivanovich a start on his way, although he’s only half of Mikhail’s age. Now they’re going to try my son for all this, and sentence him; and he’ll escape from Siberia and continue with his work.”
Her pride waxed as she spoke. It created the image of a hero, and demanded expression in words. The mother needed an offset78 — something fine and bright — to balance the gloomy incident she had witnessed that day, with its senseless horror and shameless cruelty. Instinctively79 yielding to this demand of a healthy soul, she reached out for everything she had seen that was pure and shining and heaped it into one dazzling, cleansing80 fire.
“Many such people have already been born, more and more are being born, and they will all stand up for the freedom of the people, for the truth, to the very end of their lives.”
She forgot precaution, and although she did not mention names, she told everything known to her of the secret work for the emancipation81 of the people from the chains of greed. In depicting82 the personalities83 she put all her force into her words, all the abundance of love awakened84 in her so late by her rousing experiences. And she herself became warmly enamored of the images rising up in her memory, illumined and beautified by her feeling.
“The common cause advances throughout the world in all the cities. There’s no measuring the power of the good people. It keeps growing and growing, and it will grow until the hour of our victory, until the resurrection of truth.”
Her voice flowed on evenly, the words came to her readily, and she quickly strung them, like bright, varicolored beads85, on strong threads of her desire to cleanse86 her heart of the blood and filth87 of that day. She saw that the three people were as if rooted to the spot where her speech found them, and that they looked at her without stirring. She heard the intermittent88 breathing of the woman sitting by her side, and all this magnified the power of her faith in what she said, and in what she promised these people.
“All those who have a hard life, whom want and injustice89 crush — it’s the rich and the servitors of the rich who have overpowered them. The whole people ought to go out to meet those who perish in the dungeons90 for them, and endure mortal torture. Without gain to themselves they show where the road to happiness for all people lies. They frankly admit it is a hard road, and they force no one to follow them. But once you take your position by their side you will never leave them. You will see it is the true, the right road. With such persons the people may travel. Such persons will not be reconciled to small achievements; they will not stop until they will vanquish57 all deceit, all evil and greed. They will not fold their hands until the people are welded into one soul, until the people will say in one voice: ‘I am the ruler, and I myself will make the laws equal for all.’”
She ceased from exhaustion91, and looked about. Her words would not be wasted here, she felt assured. The silence lasted for a minute, while the peasants regarded her as if expecting more. Pyotr stood in the middle of the hut, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes screwed up, a smile quivering on his freckled face. Stepan was leaning one hand on the table; with his neck and entire body forward, he seemed still to be listening. A shadow on his face gave it more finish. His wife, sitting beside the mother, bent over, her elbows on her knees, and studied her feet.
“That’s how it is,” whispered Pyotr, and carefully sat on the bench, shaking his head.
Stepan slowly straightened himself, looked at his wife, and threw his hands in the air, as if grasping for something.
“If a man takes up this work,” he began thoughtfully in a moderated voice, “then his entire soul is needed.”
Pyotr timidly assented92:
“Yes, he mustn’t look back.”
“The work has spread very widely,” continued Stepan.
“Over the whole earth,” added Pyotr.
They both spoke like men walking in darkness, groping for the way with their feet. The mother leaned against the wall, and throwing back her head listened to their careful utterances93. Tatyana arose, looked around, and sat down again. Her green eyes gleamed dryly as she looked into the peasants’ faces with dissatisfaction and contempt.
“It seems you’ve been through a lot of misery,” she said, suddenly turning to the mother.
“I have.”
“You speak well. You draw — you draw the heart after your talk. It makes me think, it makes me think, ‘God! If I could only take a peep at such people and at life through a chink!’ How does one live? What life has one? The life of sheep. Here am I; I can read and write; I read books, I think a whole lot. Sometimes I don’t even sleep the entire night because I think. And what sense is there in it? If I don’t think, my existence is a purposeless existence; and if I do, it is also purposeless. And everything seems purposeless. There are the peasants, who work and tremble over a piece of bread for their homes, and they have nothing. It hurts them, enrages94 them; they drink, fight, and work again — work, work, work. But what comes of it? Nothing.”
She spoke with scorn in her eyes and in her voice, which was low and even, but at times broke off like a taut95 thread overstrained. The peasants were silent,, the wind glided96 by the window panes97, buzzed through the straw of the roofs, and at times whined98 softly down the chimney. A dog barked, and occasional drops of rain pattered on the window. Suddenly the light flared99 in the lamp, dimmed, but in a second sprang up again even and bright.
“I listened to your talk, and I see what people live for now. It’s so strange — I hear you, and I think, ‘Why, I know all this.’ And yet, until you said it, I hadn’t heard such things, and I had no such thoughts. Yes.”
“I think we ought to take something to eat, and put out the lamp,” said Stepan, somberly and slowly. “People will notice that at the Chumakovs’ the light burned late. It’s nothing for us, but, it might turn out bad for the guest.”
Tatyana arose and walked to the oven.
“Ye-es,” Pyotr said softly, with a smile. “Now, friend, keep your ears pricked100. When the papers appear among the people ——”
“I’m not speaking of myself. If they arrest me, it’s no great matter.”
The wife came up to the table and asked Stepan to make room.
He arose and watched her spread the table as he stood to one side.
“The price of fellows of our kind is a nickel a bundle, a hundred in a bundle,” he said with a smile.
The mother suddenly pitied him. He now pleased her more.
“You don’t judge right, host,” she said. “A man mustn’t agree to the price put upon him by people from the outside, who need nothing of him except his blood. You, knowing yourself within, must put your own estimate on yourself — your price, not for your enemies, but for your friends.”
“What friends have we?” the peasant exclaimed softly. “Up to the first piece of bread.”
“And I say that the people have friends.”
“Yes, they have, but not here — that’s the trouble,” Stepan deliberated.
“Well, then create them here.”
Stepan reflected a while. “We’ll try.”
“Sit down at the table,” Tatyana invited her.
At supper, Pyotr, who had been subdued by the talk of the mother and appeared to be at a loss, began to speak again with animation:
“Mother, you ought to get out of here as soon as possible, to escape notice. Go to the next station, not to the city — hire the post horses.”
“Why? I’m going to see her off!” said Stepan.
“You mustn’t. In case anything happens and they ask you whether she slept in your house —‘She did.’ ‘When did she go?’ ‘I saw her off.’ ‘Aha! You did? Please come to prison!’ Do you understand? And no one ought to be in a hurry to get into prison; everybody’s turn will come. ‘Even the Czar will die,’ as the saying goes. But the other way: she simply spent the night in your house, hired horses, and went away. And what of it? Somebody passing through the village sleeps with somebody in the village. There’s nothing in that.”
“Where did you learn to be afraid, Pyotr?” Tatyana scoffed101.
“A man must know everything, friend!” Pyotr exclaimed, striking his knee —“know how to fear, know how to be brave. You remember how a policeman lashed19 Vaganov for that newspaper? Now you’ll not persuade Vaganov for any amount of money to take a book in his hand. Yes; you believe me, mother, I’m a sharp fellow for every sort of a trick — everybody knows it. I’m going to scatter102 these books and papers for you in the best shape and form, as much as you please. Of course, the people here are not educated; they’ve been intimidated103. However, the times squeeze a man and wide open go his eyes, ‘What’s the matter?’ And the book answers him in a perfectly simple way: ‘That’s what’s the matter — Think! Unite! Nothing else is left for you to do!’ There are examples of men who can’t read or write and can understand more than the educated ones — especially if the educated ones have their stomachs full. I go about here everywhere; I see much. Well? It’s possible to live; but you want brains and a lot of cleverness in order not to sit down in the cesspool at once. The authorities, too, smell a rat, as though a cold wind were blowing on them from the peasants. They see the peasant smiles very little, and altogether is not very kindly104 disposed and wants to disaccustom himself to the authorities. The other day in Smolyakov, a village not far from here, they came to extort105 the taxes; and your peasants got stubborn and flew into a passion. The police commissioner said straight out: ‘Oh, you damned scoundrels! why, this is disobedience to the Czar!’ There was one little peasant there, Spivakin, and says he: ‘Off with you to the evil mother with your Czar! What kind of a Czar is he if he pulls the last shirt off your body?’ That’s how far it went, mother. Of course, they snatched Spivakin off to prison. But the word remained, and even the little boys know it. It lives! It shouts! And perhaps in our days the word is worth more than a man. People are stupefied and deadened by their absorption in breadwinning. Yes.”
Pyotr did not eat, but kept on talking in a quick whisper, his dark, roguish eyes gleaming merrily. He lavishly106 scattered107 before the mother innumerable little observations on the village life — they rolled from him like copper108 coins from a full purse.
Stepan several times reminded him: “Why don’t you eat?” Pyotr would then seize a piece of bread and a spoon and fall to talking and sputtering again like a goldfinch. Finally, after the meal, he jumped to his feet and announced:
“Well, it’s time for me to go home. Good-by, mother!” and he shook her hand and nodded his head. “Maybe we shall never see each other again. I must say to you that all this is very good — to meet you and hear your speeches — very good! Is there anything in your valise beside the printed matter? A shawl? Excellent! A shawl, remember, Stepan. He’ll bring you the valise at once. Come, Stepan. Good-by. I wish everything good to you.”
After he had gone the crawling sound of the roaches became audible in the hut, the blowing of the wind over the roof and its knocking against the door in the chimney. A fine rain dripped monotonously109 on the window. Tatyana prepared a bed for the mother on the bench with clothing brought from the oven and the storeroom.
“A lively man!” remarked the mother.
The hostess looked at her sidewise.
“A light fellow,” she answered. “He rattles110 on and rattles on; you can’t but hear the rattling111 at a great distance.”
“And how is your husband?” asked the mother.
“So so. A good peasant; he doesn’t drink; we live peacefully. So so. Only he has a weak character.” She straightened herself, and after a pause asked:
“Why, what is it that’s wanted nowadays? What’s wanted is that the people should be stirred up to revolt. Of course! Everybody thinks about it, but privately112, for himself. And what’s necessary is that he should speak out aloud. Some one person must be the first to decide to do it.” She sat down on the bench and suddenly asked: “Tell me, do young ladies also occupy themselves with this? Do they go about with the workingmen and read? Aren’t they squeamish and afraid?” She listened attentively to the mother’s reply and fetched a deep sigh; then drooping113 her eyelids and inclining her head, she said: “In one book I read the words ‘senseless life.’ I understood them very well at once. I know such a life. Thoughts there are, but they’re not connected, and they stray like stupid sheep without a shepherd. They stray and stray, with no one to bring them together. There’s no understanding in people of what must be done. That’s what a senseless life is. I’d like to run away from it without even looking around — such a severe pang114 one suffers when one understands something!”
The mother perceived the pang in the dry gleam of the woman’s green eyes, in her wizened115 face, in her voice. She wanted to pet and soothe116 her.
“You understand, my dear, what to do ——”
Tatyana interrupted her softly:
“A person must be able — The bed’s ready for you. Lie down and sleep.”
She went over to the oven and remained standing there erect117, in silence, sternly centered in herself. The mother lay down without undressing. She began to feel the weariness in her bones and groaned118 softly. Tatyana walked up to the table, extinguished the lamp, and when darkness descended119 on the hut she resumed speech in her low, even voice, which seemed to erase120 something from the flat face of the oppressive darkness.
“You do not pray? I, too, think there is no God, there are no miracles. All these things were contrived121 to frighten us, to make us stupid.”
The mother turned about on the bench uneasily; the dense122 darkness looked straight at her from the window, and the scarcely audible crawling of the roaches persistently disturbed the quiet. She began to speak almost in a whisper and fearfully:
“In regard to God, I don’t know; but I do believe in Christ, in the Little Father. I believe in his words, ‘Love thy neighbor as thyself.’ Yes, I believe in them.” And suddenly she asked in perplexity: “But if there is a God, why did He withdraw his good power from us? Why did He allow the division of people into two worlds? Why, if He is merciful, does He permit human torture — the mockery of one man by another, all kinds of evil and beastliness?”
Tatyana was silent. In the darkness the mother saw the faint outline of her straight figure — gray on the black background. She stood motionless. The mother closed her eyes in anguish123. Then the groaning124, cold voice sullenly broke in upon the stillness again:
“The death of my children I will never forgive, neither God nor man — I will never forgive — NEVER!”
Nilovna uneasily rose from her bed; her heart understood the mightiness125 of the pain that evoked126 such words.
“You are young; you will still have children,” she said kindly.
The woman did not answer immediately. Then she whispered:
“No, no. I’m spoiled. The doctor says I’ll never be able to have a child again.”
A mouse ran across the floor, something cracked — a flash of sound flaring127 up in the noiselessness. The autumn rain again rustled128 on the thatch129 like light thin fingers running over the roof. Large drops of water dismally130 fell to the ground, marking the slow course of the autumn night. Hollow steps on the street, then on the porch, awoke the mother from a heavy slumber131. The door opened carefully.
“Tatyana!” came the low call. “Are you in bed already?”
“No.”
“Is she asleep?”
“It seems she is.”
A light flared up, trembled, and sank into the darkness.
The peasant walked over to the mother’s bed, adjusted the sheepskin over her, and wrapped up her feet. The attention touched the mother in its simplicity132. She closed her eyes again and smiled. Stepan undressed in silence, crept up to the loft133, and all became quiet.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
tavern
|
|
| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
nausea
|
|
| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
scented
|
|
| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
subdued
|
|
| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
ashen
|
|
| adj.灰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
commissioner
|
|
| n.（政府厅、局、处等部门）专员，长官，委员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
swollen
|
|
| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
tar
|
|
| n.柏油，焦油；vt.涂或浇柏油/焦油于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
sergeant
|
|
| n.警官，中士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
stifle
|
|
| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
dismal
|
|
| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
auditor
|
|
| n.审计员，旁听着 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
babbled
|
|
| v.喋喋不休( babble的过去式和过去分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
animation
|
|
| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
arrears
|
|
| n.到期未付之债，拖欠的款项；待做的工作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
lashed
|
|
| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
formulated
|
|
| v.构想出( formulate的过去式和过去分词 )；规划；确切地阐述；用公式表示 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
fraught
|
|
| adj.充满…的，伴有(危险等)的；忧虑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
persistently
|
|
| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
drowsily
|
|
| adv.睡地，懒洋洋地，昏昏欲睡地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
reverberated
|
|
| 回响，回荡( reverberate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使反响，使回荡，使反射 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
lodging
|
|
| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
lodger
|
|
| n.寄宿人，房客 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
sputtering
|
|
| n.反应溅射法；飞溅；阴极真空喷镀；喷射v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的现在分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
preoccupied
|
|
| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
annoyance
|
|
| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
shrugged
|
|
| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
laconic
|
|
| adj.简洁的；精练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
kindled
|
|
| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
malice
|
|
| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
sobs
|
|
| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
sullenly
|
|
| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
curtly
|
|
| adv.简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
assent
|
|
| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
persistency
|
|
| n. 坚持(余辉, 时间常数) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
trample
|
|
| vt.踩，践踏；无视，伤害，侵犯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
awl
|
|
| n.尖钻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
attentively
|
|
| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
freckled
|
|
| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
confirmation
|
|
| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
wringing
|
|
| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
muddle
|
|
| n.困惑，混浊状态；vt.使混乱，使糊涂，使惊呆；vi.胡乱应付，混乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
absurdities
|
|
| n.极端无理性( absurdity的名词复数 )；荒谬；谬论；荒谬的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
nervously
|
|
| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
ragged
|
|
| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
crumpled
|
|
| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
vanquish
|
|
| v.征服，战胜；克服；抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
vanquished
|
|
| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
sprightliness
|
|
| n.愉快，快活 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
wink
|
|
| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
reassured
|
|
| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
entreatingly
|
|
| 哀求地，乞求地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
contentedly
|
|
| adv.心满意足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
displeased
|
|
| a.不快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
groan
|
|
| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
pervaded
|
|
| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
tattoo
|
|
| n.纹身，(皮肤上的)刺花纹；vt.刺花纹于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
riveted
|
|
| 铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 )； 把…固定住； 吸引； 引起某人的注意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
eyebrows
|
|
| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
eyelids
|
|
| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
drooped
|
|
| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
esteems
|
|
| n.尊敬，好评( esteem的名词复数 )v.尊敬( esteem的第三人称单数 )；敬重；认为；以为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
yeast
|
|
| n.酵母；酵母片；泡沫；v.发酵；起泡沫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
binds
|
|
| v.约束( bind的第三人称单数 )；装订；捆绑；（用长布条）缠绕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
offset
|
|
| n.分支，补偿；v.抵消，补偿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
cleansing
|
|
| n. 净化(垃圾) adj. 清洁用的 动词cleanse的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
emancipation
|
|
| n.（从束缚、支配下）解放 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
depicting
|
|
| 描绘，描画( depict的现在分词 )； 描述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
personalities
|
|
| n. 诽谤，（对某人容貌、性格等所进行的）人身攻击； 人身攻击；人格, 个性, 名人( personality的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
beads
|
|
| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
cleanse
|
|
| vt.使清洁，使纯洁，清洗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
filth
|
|
| n.肮脏，污物，污秽；淫猥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
intermittent
|
|
| adj.间歇的，断断续续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
injustice
|
|
| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
dungeons
|
|
| n.地牢( dungeon的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
exhaustion
|
|
| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
assented
|
|
| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
utterances
|
|
| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
enrages
|
|
| 使暴怒( enrage的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
taut
|
|
| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
glided
|
|
| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
panes
|
|
| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
whined
|
|
| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
Flared
|
|
| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
pricked
|
|
| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
scoffed
|
|
| 嘲笑，嘲弄( scoff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
scatter
|
|
| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
intimidated
|
|
| v.恐吓；威胁adj.害怕的；受到威胁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
extort
|
|
| v.勒索，敲诈，强要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
lavishly
|
|
| adv.慷慨地，大方地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
copper
|
|
| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
monotonously
|
|
| adv.单调地，无变化地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
rattles
|
|
| （使）发出格格的响声， （使）作嘎嘎声( rattle的第三人称单数 )； 喋喋不休地说话； 迅速而嘎嘎作响地移动，堕下或走动； 使紧张，使恐惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
rattling
|
|
| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
privately
|
|
| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
drooping
|
|
| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
pang
|
|
| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
wizened
|
|
| adj.凋谢的；枯槁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
soothe
|
|
| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
groaned
|
|
| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
erase
|
|
| v.擦掉；消除某事物的痕迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
contrived
|
|
| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
anguish
|
|
| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
groaning
|
|
| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
mightiness
|
|
| n.强大 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
evoked
|
|
| [医]诱发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
flaring
|
|
| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
rustled
|
|
| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
thatch
|
|
| vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部；n.茅草(屋) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
dismally
|
|
| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
slumber
|
|
| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
loft
|
|
| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |