creatures that once were men-第18节
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〃Scoundrel and thief！ Take back your money！ Dirty worm！ Take
it back； I say 。 。 。 or else I shall cram it down your throat。
。 。 。 Take your five…kopeck pieces！〃
Petunikoff put out his trembling hand toward his mite； and
protecting his head from Kuvalda's fist with the other hand；
said：
101 CREATURES THAT ONCE WERE MEN
〃You are my witnesses； Sir Inspector； and you good people！〃
〃We are not good people； merchant！〃 said the voice of Abyedok；
trembling with anger。
The Inspector whistled impatiently； with his other hand
protecting Petunikoff； who was stooping in front of him as if
trying to enter his belly。
〃You dirty toad！ I shall compel you to kiss the feet of the
dead man。 How would you like that？〃 And catching Petunikoff
by the neck； Kuvalda hurled him against the door； as if he
bad been a cat。
The 〃creatures that once were men〃 sprang aside quickly to let
the merchant fall。 And down he fell at their feet； crying
wildly：
〃Murder！ Help！ Murder！〃
Martyanoff slowly raised his foot； and brought it down heavily
on the merchant's head。 Abyedok spat in his face with a grin。
The merchant； creeping on all…fours； threw himself into the
courtyard； at which everyone laughed。 But by this time the
two policemen had arrived； and pointing to Kuvalda； the
Inspector said； pompously：
〃Arrest him； and bind him hand and foot！〃
〃You dare not！ 。 。 。 I shall not run away 。 。 。 I will go
wherever you wish； 。 。 。〃 said Kuvalda； freeing himself from
the policemen at his side。
The 〃creatures that once were men〃 disappeared one after the
other。 A cart entered the yard。 Some ragged wretches brought
out the dead man's body。
102 CREATURES THAT ONCE WERE MEN
〃I'll teach you！ You just wait！〃 thundered the Inspector at
Kuvalda。
〃How now； ataman？〃 asked Petunikoff maliciously； excited and
pleased at the sight of his enemy in bonds。 That； you fell
into the trap？ Eh？ You just wait。 。 。 。〃
But Kuvalda was quiet now。 He stood strangely straight and
silent between the two policemen； watching the teacher's body
being placed in the cart。 The man who was holding the head
of the corpse was very short； and could not manage to place
it on the cart at the same time as the legs。 For a moment
the body hung as if it would fall to the ground； and hide
itself beneath the earth； away from these foolish and wicked
disturbers of its peace。
〃Take him away！〃 ordered the Inspector； pointing to the
Captain。
Kuvalda silently moved forward without protestation； passing
the cart on which was the teacher's body。 He bowed his head
before it without looking。 Martyanoff； with his strong face；
followed him。 The courtyard of the merchant Petunikoff
emptied quickly。
〃Now then； go on！〃 called the driver； striking the horses with
the whip。 The cart moved off over the rough surface of the
courtyard。 The teacher was covered with a heap of rags； and
his belly projected from beneath them。 It seemed as if he
were laughing quietly at the prospect of leaving the dosshouse；
never； never to return。 Petunikoff； who was following him with
his eyes； crossed himself； and then began to shake the dust and
rubbish off his clothes； and the more he shook himself the more
pleased and self…satisfied did he feel。 He saw the tall figure
of Aristid Fomich Kuvalda； in a gray cap with a red band； with
his arms bound behind his back； being led away。
103 CREATURES THAT ONCE WERE MEN
Petunikoff smiled the smile of the conqueror； and went back
into the dosshouse； but suddenly he stopped and trembled。 At
the door facing him stood an old man with a stick in his hand
and a large bag on his back； a horrible old man in rags and
tatters； which covered his bony figure。 He bent under the
weight of his burden； and lowered his head on his breast； as
if he wished to attack the merchant。
〃What are you？ Who are you？〃 shouted Petunikoff。
〃A man 。 。 。〃 he answered in a hoarse voice。 This hoarseness
pleased and tranquillized Petunikoff； he even smiled。
〃A man！ And are there really men like you？〃 Stepping aside he
let the old man pass。 He went； saying slowly：
〃Men are of various kinds 。 。 。 as God wills 。 。 。 There are
worse than me 。 。 。 still worse 。 。 。 Yes。 。 。 。〃
The cloudy sky hung silently over the dirty yard and over the
cleanly…dressed man with the pointed beard； who was walking
about there； measuring distances with his steps and with his
sharp eyes。 On the roof of the old house a crow perched and
croaked； thrusting its head now backward； now forward。 In the
lowering gray clouds； which hid the sky； there was something
hard and merciless； as if they had gathered together to wash
all the dirt off the face of this unfortunate； suffering； and
sorrowful earth。
104
TWENTY…SIX MEN AND A GIRL
There were six…and…twenty of ussix…and…twenty living
machines in a damp； underground cellar； where from morning
till night we kneaded dough and rolled it into kringels。
Opposite the underground window of our cellar was a bricked
area； green and mouldy with moisture。 The window was
protected from outside with a close iron grating； and the
light of the sun could not pierce through the window panes；
covered as they were with flour dust。
Our employer had bars placed in front of the windows； so that
we should not be able to give a bit of his bread to passing
beggars； or to any of our fellows who were out of work and
hungry。 Our employer called us rogues； and gave us half…
rotten tripe to eat for our mid…day meal； instead of meat。
It was swelteringly close for us cooped up in that stone
underground chamber； under the low； heavy； soot…blackened；
cobwebby ceiling。 Dreary and sickening was our life between
its thick； dirty； mouldy walls。
Unrefreshed； and with a feeling of not having had our sleep
out； we used to get up at five o'clock in the morning； and
before six； we were already seated； worn out and apathetic；
at the table； rolling out the dough which our mates had already
prepared while we slept。
105 TWENTY…SIX MEN AND A GIRL
The whole day； from ten in the early morning until ten at night；
some of us sat round that table； working up in our hands the
yielding paste； rolling it to and fro so that it should not get
stiff； while the others kneaded the swelling mass of dough。 And
the whole day the simmering water in the kettle； where the
kringels were being cooked； sang low and sadly； and the baker's
shovel scraped harshly over the oven floor； as he threw the
slippery bits of dough out of the kettle on the heated bricks。
From morning till evening wood was burning in the oven； and the
red glow of the fire gleamed and flickered over the walls of the
bake…shop； as if silently mocking us。 The giant oven was like
the misshapen head of a monster in a fairy tale； it thrust
itself up out of the floor； opened wide jaws； full of glowing
fire； and blew hot breath upon us； it seemed to be ever watching
out of its black air…holes our interminable work。 Those two
deep holes were like eye~the cold； pitiless eyes of a monster。
They watched us always with the same darkened glance； as if they
were weary of seeing before them such eternal slaves； from whom
they could expect nothing human； and therefore scorned them with
the cold scorn of wisdom。
In meal dust； in the mud which we brought in from the yard on
our boots； in the hot； sticky atmosphere； day in； day out； we
rolled the dough into kringels； which we moistened with our own
sweat。 And we hated our work with a glowing hatred； we never
ate what had passed through our hands； and preferred black bread
to kringels。
106 TWENTY…SIX MEN AND A GIRL
Sitting opposite each other； at a long tablenine facing nine
we moved our hands and fingers mechanically during endlessly
long hours； till we were so accustomed to our monotonous work
that we ceased to pay any attention to it。
We had all studied each other so constantly； that each of us
knew every wrinkle of his mates' faces。 It was not long also
before we had exhausted almost every topic of conversation；
that is why we were most of the time silent； unless we were
chaffing each other； but one cannot always find something
about which to chaff another man； especially when that man is
one's mate。 Neither were we much given to finding fault with
one another； how； indeed； could one of us poor devils be in a
position to find fault with another； when we were all of us
half dead and； as it were； turned to stone？ For the heavy
drudgery seemed to crush all feeling out of us。 But silence
is only terrible and fearful for those who have said everything
and have nothing more to say t
