LITMIR.BIZ

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Akimitch in regard to our governor. He concealed nothing, and the impression which his story left upon me was far from agreeable.

      I had to live for two years under the authority of this officer; all that Akimitch told me about him was strictly true. He was a spiteful, ill-regulated man, terrible above all things because he possessed almost unlimited power over two hundred human beings. He looked upon the prisoners as his personal enemies-his first (and a very serious) fault. His rare capacity, and, perhaps, even his good qualities, were perverted by his intemperance and his spitefulness. He sometimes descended like a bombshell upon the barracks in the middle of the night. If he noticed a prisoner asleep on his back or his left side, he awoke him and said: ‘You must sleep as I ordered!’ The convicts detested him and feared him like the plague. His repulsive, crimson countenance made everyone tremble. We all knew that the governor was entirely in the hands of his servant Fedka, and that he had nearly gone mad when his dog Treasure fell ill. He preferred this dog to every other living creature.

      When Fedka told him that a certain convict, who had picked up some veterinary knowledge, made wonderful cures, he immediately sent for him and said: ‘I entrust my dog to your care. If you cure Treasure I will reward you royally.’ The man, a very intelligent Siberian peasant, was indeed a good veterinary surgeon, but he was above all a cunning peasant. Long afterwards he used to tell his comrades the story of his visit to the governor.

      ‘I looked at Treasure, who lay on a sofa with his head on a white cushion. I saw at once that he had inflammation, and that he wanted bleeding. I think I could have cured him, but I said to myself: “What will happen if the dog dies? It will be my fault.”

      “No, your highness,” I said to him, “you have called me too late. If I had seen your dog yesterday or the day before, he would now be restored to health; but I can do nothing. He will die.” And Treasure died.’

      I was told one day that a convict had tried to assassinate the governor. This prisoner had for several years been noted for his submissive attitude and for his silence: he was even regarded as a madman. As he was not altogether illiterate he spent his nights reading the Bible. When everybody was asleep he rose, climbed up on to the stove, lit a church taper, opened his Gospel, and began to read. He did this for a whole year.

      One fine day, however, he left the ranks and declared that he would not go to work. He was reported to the governor, who flew into a rage and hurried to the barracks. The convict rushed forward, hurled a brick at him, which he had procured beforehand, and missed. He was seized, tried, and whipped-it was a matter of a few moments-and was carried to the hospital, where he died three days later. He declared during his last moments that he hated no one, and that, although he had wished to suffer he belonged to no sect of fanatics. Afterwards, whenever his name was mentioned in the barracks, it was always with respect.

      At last they put new irons on me. While they were being soldered a number of young women, selling little white loaves, came into the forge one after another. They were, for the most part, quite little girls who came to sell the loaves that their mothers had baked. As they got older they still continued to hang about us, but they no longer brought bread. There were always some of them about together with a number of married women. Each roll cost two kopecks, and nearly all the prisoners bought them. I noticed one convict who worked as a carpenter. He was already growing grey, but had a ruddy, smiling complexion. He was joking with the vendors of rolls. Before they arrived he had tied a red handkerchief round his neck. A fat woman, much marked with the smallpox, put down her basket on the carpenter’s table, and they began to talk.

      ‘Why didn’t you come yesterday?’ asked the convict with a selfsatisfied smile.

      ‘I did come; but you had gone,’ replied the woman boldly.

      ‘Yes; they marched us off, otherwise we should have met. The day before yesterday they all came to see me.’

      ‘Who did?’

      ‘Why, Mariashka, Khavroshka, Tchekunda, Dougrochva.’ This last woman charged four kopecks.

      ‘What,’ I said to Akimitch, ‘is it possible that?’

      ‘Yes; it happens sometimes,’ he replied, lowering his eyes, for he was a very proper man.

      Yes; it happened sometimes, but rarely, and with unheard-of difficulties. The convicts preferred to spend their money on drink. It was very difficult to meet these women. One had to agree on place and time, arrange a meeting, find solitude, and, most difficult of all, avoid the escort-almost an impossibility-and spend relatively prodigious sums. I have sometimes, however, witnessed love scenes. One day three of us were heating a brick-kiln on the banks of the Irtitch. The soldiers of the escort were goodnatured fellows. Two ‘ blowers,’ as they were called, soon appeared.

      ‘What kept you so long?’ asked one fellow who had evidently been expecting them. ‘Was it at the Zvierkoffs that you were detained?’

      ‘ At the Zvierkoffs? It will be fine weather, and the fowls will have teeth, when I go to see them,’ replied one of the women.

      She was the dirtiest woman imaginable. She was called Tchekunda, and had arrived in company with her friend (she of the four kopecks), who was beyond all description.

      ‘ It’s a long time since we saw anything of you,’ says the gallant to Miss Four Kopecks; ‘you seem to have grown thinner.’

      ‘Perhaps. I was once good-looking and plump, but now you might fancy I had swallowed eels.’

      ‘And you still run after the soldiers, eh?’

      ‘ That’s all wicked gossip; in any case, if I was to be flogged to death for it, I like soldiers.’

      ‘Never mind your soldiers, we’re the people to love; we have money.’

      Imagine this gallant with his shaved crown, with fetters on his ankles, dressed in a coat of two colours, and watched by an escort.

      My irons had now been fixed, and I had to return to the prison. I wished Akimitch goodbye and moved off, escorted by a soldier. Those who do task work return first, and, when I got back to the barracks, a good number of convicts were already there.

      As the kitchen could not have held the whole barrack-full at once, we did not all dine together. Those who came in first were first served. I tasted the cabbage soup, but, not being used to it, could not eat it, so I prepared myself some tea. I sat down at one end of the table with a convict of noble birth like myself. The prisoners were going in and out; but there was no want of room, for there were not many of them. Five men sat down apart from the large table. The cook gave each of them two ladles full of soup, and brought them a plate of fried fish. These men were having a holiday. They looked at us in a friendly manner. One of the Poles came in and took his seat by our side.

      ‘I was not with you, but I know that you are having a feast,’ exclaimed a tall convict who now came in.

      He was a man of about fifty years, thin and muscular. His face indicated cunning and, at the same time, liveliness. His lower Up, fleshy and pendent, gave him a soft expression.

      ‘Well, have you slept well? Why don’t you say how do you do? Well, now my friend of Kursk,’ he said, sitting down by the side of the diners, ‘good appetite? Here’s a new guest for you.’

      ‘We are not from the province of Kursk.’

      ‘Then my friends from Tambof, shall we say?’

      ‘We are not from Tambof either. You’ve no claim on us; if you want to enjoy yourself go to some rich peasant.’

      ‘ I have Maria Ikotishna¹ in my belly, otherwise I should die of hunger. But where is your peasant to be found?’

      ‘Good heavens! We mean Gazin. Go to him.’

      ‘Gazin is on the drink to-day; he’s devouring his capital.’

      ‘He has at least twenty roubles,’ says another convict. ‘It’s profitable keeping a drinking-shop.’

      ‘You won’t have me? Then I must eat Government

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