the man who was afraid-第63节

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nd　clearly；　and　all　his　face　was　radiant　with　the　happy　smile　of　a　man　who　has　found　expression　for　his　joy　and　was　delighted　while　he　poured　it　forth。

〃The　heart　of　God　throbs　in　each　and　every　blade　of　grass；　each　and　every　insect　of　the　air　and　of　the　earth；　breathes　His　holy　spirit。　God；　the　Lord；　Jesus　Christ；　lives　everywhere！　What　beauty　there　is　on　earth；　in　the　fields　and　in　the　forests！　Have　you　ever　been　on　the　Kerzhenz？　An　incomparable　silence　reigns　there　supreme；　the　trees；　the　grass　there　are　like　those　of　paradise。〃

Foma　listened；　and　his　imagination；　captivated　by　the　quiet；　charming　narrative；　pictured　to　him　those　wide　fields　and　dense　forests；　full　of　beauty　and　soul…pacifying　silence。

〃You　look　at　the　sky；　as　you　rest　somewhere　under　a　little　bush；　and　the　sky　seems　to　descend　upon　you　as　though　longing　to　embrace　you。　Your　soul　is　warm；　filled　with　tranquil　joy；　you　desire　nothing；　you　envy　nothing。　And　it　actually　seems　to　you　that　there　is　no　one　on　earth　save　you　and　God。〃

The　pilgrim　spoke；　and　his　voice　and　sing…song　speech　reminded　Foma　of　the　wonderful　fairy…tales　of　Aunt　Anfisa。　He　felt　as　though；　after　a　long　journey　on　a　hot　day；　he　drank　the　clear；　cold　water　of　a　forest　brook；　water　that　had　the　fragrance　of　the　grasses　and　the　flowers　it　has　bathed。　Even　wider　and　wider　grew　the　pictures　as　they　unfolded　upon　him；　here　is　a　path　through　the　thick；　slumbering　forest；　the　fine　sunbeams　penetrate　through　the　branches　of　the　trees；　and　quiver　in　the　air　and　under　the　feet　of　the　wanderer。　There　is　a　savoury　odour　of　fungi　and　decaying　foliage；　the　honeyed　fragrance　of　the　flowers；　the　intense　odour　of　the　pine…tree　invisibly　rise　in　the　air　and　penetrate　the　breast　in　a　warm；　rich　stream。　All　is　silence：　only　the　birds　are　singing；　and　the　silence　is　so　wonderful　that　it　seems　as　though　even　the　birds　were　singing　in　your　breast。　You　go；　without　haste；　and　your　life　goes　on　like　a　dream。　While　here　everything　is　enveloped　in　a　gray；　dead　fog；　and　we　are　foolishly　struggling　about　in　it；　yearning　for　freedom　and　light。　There　below　they　have　started　to　sing　something　in　scarcely　audible　voices；　it　was　half　song；　half　prayer。　Again　someone　is　shouting；　scolding。　And　still　they　seek　the　way：

〃Seven　and　a　half。　Seven！〃

〃And　you　have　no　care；〃　spoke　the　pilgrim；　and　his　voice　murmured　like　a　brook。　〃Anybody　will　give　you　a　crust　of　bread；　and　what　else　do　you　need　in　your　freedom？　In　the　world；　cares　fall　upon　the　soul　like　fetters。〃

〃You　speak　well；〃　said　Foma　with　a　sigh。

〃My　dear　brother！〃　exclaimed　the　pilgrim；　softly；　moving　still　closer　toward　him。　〃Since　the　soul　has　awakened；　since　it　yearns　toward　freedom；　do　not　lull　it　to　sleep　by　force；　hearken　to　its　voice。　The　world　with　its　charms　has　no　beauty　and　holiness　whatever；　wherefore；　then；　obey　its　laws？　In　John　Chrysostom　it　is　said：　'The　real　shechinah　is　man！'　Shechinah　is　a　Hebrew　word　and　it　means　the　holy　of　holies。　Consequently〃

A　prolonged　shrill　sound　of　the　whistle　drowned　his　voice。　He　listened；　rose　quickly　from　the　lounge　and　said：

〃We　are　nearing　the　harbour。　That's　what　the　whistle　meant。　I　must　be　off！　Well；　goodbye；　brother！　May　God　give　you　strength　and　firmness　to　act　according　to　the　will　of　your　soul！　Goodbye；　my　dear　boy！〃

He　made　a　low　bow　to　Foma。　There　was　something　feminine；　caressing　and　soft　in　his　farewell　words　and　bow。　Foma　also　bowed　low　to　him；　bowed　and　remained　as　though　petrified；　standing　with　drooping　head；　his　hand　leaning　against　the　table。

〃Come　to　see　me　when　you　are　in　town；〃　he　asked　the　pilgrim；　who　was　hastily　turning　the　handle　of　the　cabin　door。

〃I　will！　I　will　come！　Goodbye！　Christ　save　you！〃

When　the　steamer's　side　touched　the　wharf　Foma　came　out　on　the　deck　and　began　to　look　downward　into　the　fog。　From　the　steamer　people　were　walking　down　the　gang…planks；　but　Foma　could　not　discern　the　pilgrim　among　those　dark　figures　enveloped　in　the　dense　gloom。　All　those　that　left　the　steamer　looked　equally　indistinct；　and　they　all　quickly　disappeared　from　sight；　as　though　they　had　melted　in　the　gray　dampness。　One　could　see　neither　the　shore　nor　anything　else　solid；　the　landing　bridge　rocked　from　the　commotion　caused　by　the　steamer；　above　it　the　yellow　spot　of　the　lantern　was　swaying；　the　noise　of　the　footsteps　and　the　bustle　of　the　people　were　dull。

The　steamer　put　off　and　slowly　moved　along　into　the　clouds。　The　pilgrim；　the　harbour；　the　turmoil　of　people's　voicesall　suddenly　disappeared　like　a　dream；　and　again　there　remained　only　the　dense　gloom　and　the　steamer　heavily　turning　about　in　it。　Foma　stared　before　him　into　the　dead　sea　of　fog　and　thought　of　the　blue；　cloudless　and　caressingly　warm　skywhere　was　it？

On　the　next　day；　about　noon；　he　sat　In　Yozhov's　small　room　and　listened　to　the　local　news　from　the　mouth　of　his　friend。　Yozhov　had　climbed　on　the　table；　which　was　piled　with　newspapers；　and；　swinging　his　feet；　narrated：

〃The　election　campaign　has　begun。　The　merchants　are　putting　your　godfather　up　as　mayorthat　old　devil！　Like　the　devil；　he　is　immortal；　although　he　must　be　upwards　of　a　hundred　and　fifty　years　old　already。　He　marries　his　daughter　to　Smolin。　You　remember　that　red…headed　fellow。　They　say　that　he　is　a　decent　man；　but　nowadays　they　even　call　clever　scoundrels　decent　men；　because　there　are　no　men。　Now　Africashka　plays　the　enlightened　man；　he　has　already　managed　to　get　into　intelligent　society；　donated　something　to　some　enterprise　or　another　and　thus　at　once　came　to　the　front。　Judging　from　his　face；　he　is　a　sharper　of　the　highest　degree；　but　he　will　play　a　prominent　part；　for　he　knows　how　to　adapt　himself。　Yes；　friend；　Africashka　is　a　liberal。　And　a　liberal　merchant　is　a　mixture　of　a　wolf　and　a　pig　with　a　toad　and　a　snake。〃

〃The　devil　take　them　all！〃　said　Foma；　waving　his　hand　indifferently。　〃What　have　I　to　do　with　them？　How　about　yourself　do　you　still　keep　on　drinking？〃

〃I　do！　Why　shouldn't　I　drink？〃

Half…clad　and　dishevelled；　Yozhov　looked　like　a　plucked　bird；　which　had　just　had　a　fight　and　had　not　yet　recovered　from　the　excitement　of　the　conflict。

〃I　drink　because；　from　time　to　time；　I　must　quench　the　fire　of　my　wounded　heart。　And　you；　you　damp　stump；　you　are　smouldering　little　by　little？〃

〃I　have　to　go　to　the　old　man；〃　said　Foma；　wrinkling　his　face。

〃Chance　it！〃

〃I　don't　feel　like　going。　He'll　start　to　lecture　me。〃

〃Then　don't　go！〃

〃But　I　must。〃

〃Then　go！〃

〃Why　do　you　always　play　the　buffoon？　〃　said　Foma；　with　displeasure；　〃as　though　you　were　indeed　merry。〃

〃By　God；　I　feel　merry！〃　exclaimed　Yozhov；　jumping　down　from　the　table。　〃What　a　fine　roasting　I　gave　a　certain　gentleman　in　the　paper　yesterday！　And　thenI've　heard　a　clever　anecdote：　A　company　was　sitting　on　the　sea…shore　philosophizing　at　length　upon　life。　And　a　Jew　said　to　them：　'Gentlemen；　why　do　you　employ　so　many　different　words？　I'll　tell　it　to　you　all　at　once：　Our　life　is　not　worth　a　single　copeck；　even　as　this　stormy　sea！　'〃

〃Eh；　the　devil　take　you！〃　said　Foma。　〃Good…bye。　I　am　going。〃

〃Go　ahead！　I　am　in　a　fine　frame　of　mind　to…day　and　I　will　not　moan　with　you。　All　the　more　so　considering　you　don't　moan；　but　grunt。〃

Foma　went　away；　leaving　Yozhov　singing　at　the　top　of　his　voice：

〃Beat　the　drum　and　fear　not。〃

〃Drum？　You　are　a　drum　yourself；〃　thought　Foma；　with　irritation；　as　he　slowly　came　out　on　the　street。

At　the　Mayakins　he　was　met　by　Luba。　Agitated　and　animated；　she　suddenly　appeared　before　him；　speaking　quickly：

〃You？　My　God！　How　pale　you　are！　How　thin　you've　grown！　It　seems　you　have　been　leading　a　fine　life。〃

Then　her　face　became　distorted　with　alarm　and　she　exclaimed　almost　in　a　whisper：

〃Ah；　Foma。　You　don't　know。　Do　you　hear？　Someone　is　ringing　the　bell。　Perhaps　it　is　he。〃

And　she　rushed　out　of　the　room；　leaving　behind　her　in　the　air　the　rustle　of　her　silk　gown；　and　the　astonished　Foma；　who　had　not　even　had　a　chance　to　ask　her　where　her　father　was。　Yakov　Tarasovich　was　at　home。　Attired　in　his　holiday　clothes；　in　a　long　frock　coat　with　medals　on　his　breast；　he　stood　on　the　threshold　with　his　hands　outstretched；　clutching　at　the　door　posts。　His　green　little　eyes　examined　Foma；　and；　feeling　their　look　upon　him；　Foma　raised　his　head　and　met　them。

〃How　do　you　do；　my　fine　gentleman？〃　said　the　old　man；　shaking　his　head　reproachfully。　〃Where　has　it　pleased　you　to　come　from；　may　I　ask？　Who　has　sucked　off　that　fat　of　yours？　Or　is　it　true　that　a　pig　looks　for　a　puddle；　and　Foma　for　a　place　which　is　worse？〃

〃Have　you　no　other　words　for　me？〃　asked　Foma；　sternly；　looking　straight　into　the　old　man's　face。　And　suddenly　he　noticed　that　his　godfather　shuddered；　his　legs　trembled；　his　eyes　began　to　blink　repeatedly；　and　his　hands　clutched　the　door　posts　with　an　effort。　Foma　advanced　toward　him；　presuming　that　the　old　man　was　feeling　ill；　but　Yakov　Tarasovich　said　in　a　dull　and　angry　voice：

〃Stand　aside。　Get　out　of　the　way。〃

And　his　face　assumed　its　usual　expression。

Foma　stepped　back　and　found　himself　side　by　side　with　a　rather　short；　stout　man；　who　bowed　to　Mayakin；　and　said　in　a　hoarse　voice：

〃How　do　you　do；　papa？〃

〃How　are　you；　Taras　Yakovlich；　how　are　you？〃　said　the　old　man；　bowing；　smiling　distractedly；　and　still