LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter 25

      ‘SO you see, …’ Nicholas Levin continued with an effort, wrinkling his brow and twitching.

      He evidently found it hard to decide what to say and to do.

      ‘Do you see …’he pointed to a bundle of iron rods tied together with string, in a corner of the room. ‘Do you see that? It is the beginning of a new business we are undertaking. The business is to be a Productive Association …’

      Constantine hardly listened. He kept glancing at his brother’s sickly, consumptive face, and felt more and more sorry for him, nor could he force himself to pay attention to what Nicholas was telling him about the Association. He realized that this Association was merely an anchor to save his brother from self-contempt. Nicholas Levin continued speaking:

      ‘You know that capitalism oppresses the workers. Our workmen the peasants bear the whole burden of labour, but are so placed that, work as they may, they cannot escape from their degrading condition. All the profits on their labour, by which they might better their condition, give themselves some leisure, and consequently gain some education, all this surplus value is taken away by the capitalists. And our society has so shaped itself that the more the people work the richer the merchants and landowners will become, while the people will remain beasts of burden for ever. And this system must be changed,’ he concluded, with an inquiring look at his brother.

      ‘Yes, of course,’ said Constantine, looking intently at the hectic flush which had appeared on his brother’s face below its prominent cheek bones.

      ‘And so we are starting a Locksmiths’ Association, in which all the products and the profits and, above all, the instruments of production will be common property.’

      ‘Where will the business be?’ asked Constantine.

      ‘In the village of Vozdrema, Kazan Government.’

      ‘Why in a village? It seems to me there is plenty of work to do in the country as it is. Why start a Locksmiths’ Association there?’

      ‘Because the peasants are still just as much slaves as they used to be, and that is why you and Sergius Ivanich don’t like it when anyone wishes to deliver them from their slavery,’ replied Nicholas Levin, irritated by Constantine’s objection.

      Constantine sighed and at the same time looked round the room which was dismal and dirty. The sigh seemed to irritate Nicholas still more.

      ‘I know your aristocratic outlook and Sergius Ivanich’s. I know that he uses all the powers of his mind to justify the existing evils.’

      ‘But why talk about Sergius Ivanich?’ said Levin with a smile.

      ‘Sergius Ivanich? This is why!’ suddenly shouted Nicholas at the mention of the name. ‘This is why… . But what is the good of talking? One thing only… . Why have you come here? You despise it, well, that is all right — then go away. Go, go in God’s name!’ he exclaimed, rising from his chair. ‘Go, go!’

      ‘I do not despise it at all,’ Constantine replied meekly. ‘I do not even dispute it.’

      Meanwhile Mary Nikolavna had come back. Nicholas gave her an angry look. She hurried up to him and said something in a whisper.

      ‘I am not well and have grown irritable,’ said Nicholas, breathing heavily and quieting down. ‘And you talk to me about Sergius Ivanich and his article. It is such rubbish, such humbug, such self-deception. What can a man write about justice, who does not understand it?’

      ‘Have you read his article?’ he said, turning to Kritsky again, sitting down to the table and clearing away from it a heap of half-filled cigarettes to make room.

      ‘I have not read it,’ said Kritsky morosely, evidently not wishing to join in the conversation.

      ‘Why not?’ irritably answered Nicholas, still addressing Kritsky.

      ‘Because I consider it unnecessary to waste time on it.’

      ‘What do you mean? May I ask how you knew it would waste your time? That article is incomprehensible to many; I mean it is above them. But it is a different matter with me. I see through his thought, and therefore know why it is weak.’

      Every one remained silent. Kritsky rose and took up his hat.

      ‘Don’t you want any supper? Well, goodbye. Come to-morrow and bring the locksmith.’

      As soon as Kritsky had gone out, Nicholas smiled and winked.

      ‘He also is not much good,’ he remarked. ‘I can see …’

      But at that moment Kritsky called him from outside the door.

      ‘What do you want now?’ said Nicholas and went out into the passage.

      Left alone with Mary Nikolavna, Levin spoke to her.

      ‘Have you been long with my brother?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes, it is the second year now. His health is very bad, he drinks too much,’ she said.

      ‘Really — what does he drink?’

      ‘He drinks vodka, and it is bad for him.’

      ‘Much vodka?’ whispered Levin.

      ‘Yes,’ she said looking timidly toward the door, just as Nicholas returned.

      ‘What were you talking about?’ he asked frowning and looking from one to the other with frightened eyes. ‘What was it?’

      ‘Nothing,’ replied Levin in confusion.

      ‘If you do not wish to tell me, do as you please. Only you have no business to talk to her. She’s a street girl, and you are a gentleman,’ he muttered jerking his neck. ‘You I see, have examined and weighed everything here, and regard my errors with compassion,’ he continued, again raising his voice.

      ‘Nicholas Dmitrich, Nicholas Dmitrich,’ whispered Mary Nikolavna, again approaching him.

      ‘Well, all right, all right! … and how about supper? Ah, here it is,’ he said noticing a waiter who was bringing in a tray. ‘Here, here, put it down here,’ he said crossly, and at once poured out a wineglass full of vodka and drank it greedily. ‘Have a drink, will you?’ he said to his brother, brightening up at once. ‘Well, we’ve had enough of Sergius Ivanich. I am glad to see you, anyhow. Whatever one may say, after all, we are not strangers. Come, have a drink. Tell me what you are doing,’ he continued, greedily chewing a crust of bread and filling

Скачать книгу