The Cossacks: A Tale of 1852

by graf Leo Tolstoy

  Chapter XXIV

  It was five in the morning. Vanyusha was in the porch heating thesamovar, and using the leg of a long boot instead of bellows. Oleninhad already ridden off to bathe in the Terek. (He had recently inventeda new amusement: to swim his horse in the river.) His landlady was inher outhouse, and the dense smoke of the kindling fire rose from thechimney. The girl was milking the buffalo cow in the shed. 'Can't keepquiet, the damned thing!' came her impatient voice, followed by therhythmical sound of milking.

  From the street in front of the house horses' hoofs were heardclattering briskly, and Olenin, riding bareback on a handsome dark-greyhorse which was still wet and shining, rode up to the gate. Maryanka'shandsome head, tied round with a red kerchief, appeared from the shedand again disappeared. Olenin was wearing a red silk shirt, a whiteCircassian coat girdled with a strap which carried a dagger, and a tallcap. He sat his well-fed wet horse with a slightly conscious eleganceand, holding his gun at his back, stooped to open the gate.

  His hair was still wet, and his face shone with youth and health. Hethought himself handsome, agile, and like a brave; but he was mistaken.To any experienced Caucasian he was still only a soldier.

  When he noticed that the girl had put out her head he stooped withparticular smartness, threw open the gate and, tightening the reins,swished his whip and entered the yard. 'Is tea ready, Vanyusha?' hecried gaily, not looking at the door of the shed. He felt with pleasurehow his fine horse, pressing down its flanks, pulling at the bridleand with every muscle quivering and with each foot ready to leap overthe fence, pranced on the hard clay of the yard. 'C'est pr?t,'answered Vanyusha. Olenin felt as if Maryanka's beautiful head wasstill looking out of the shed but he did not turn to look at her. Ashe jumped down from his horse he made an awkward movement and caughthis gun against the porch, and turned a frightened look towards theshed, where there was no one to be seen and whence the sound ofmilking could still be heard.

  Soon after he had entered the hut he came out again and sat down withhis pipe and a book on the side of the porch which was not yet exposedto the rays of the sun. He meant not to go anywhere before dinner thatday, and to write some long-postponed letters; but somehow he feltdisinclined to leave his place in the porch, and he was as reluctantto go back into the hut as if it had been a prison. The housewifehad heated her oven, and the girl, having driven the cattle, had comeback and was collecting kisyak and heaping it up along thefence. Olenin went on reading, but did not understand a word of whatwas written in the book that lay open before him. He kept lifting hiseyes from it and looking at the powerful young woman who was movingabout. Whether she stepped into the moist morning shadow thrown bythe house, or went out into the middle of the yard lit up by thejoyous young light, so that the whole of her stately figure in itsbright coloured garment gleamed in the sunshine and cast a blackshadow--he always feared to lose any one of her movements. It delightedhim to see how freely and gracefully her figure bent: into what foldsher only garment, a pink smock, draped itself on her bosom and alongher shapely legs; how she drew herself up and her tight-drawn smockshowed the outline of her heaving bosom, how the soles of her narrowfeet in her worn red slippers rested on the ground without alteringtheir shape; how her strong arms with the sleeves rolled up, exertingthe muscles, used the spade almost as if in anger, and how her deepdark eyes sometimes glanced at him. Though the delicate brows frowned,yet her eyes expressed pleasure and a knowledge of her own beauty.

  'I say, Olenin, have you been up long?' said Beletski as he entered theyard dressed in the coat of a Caucasian officer.

  'Ah, Beletski,' replied Olenin, holding out his hand. 'How is it youare out so early?'

  'I had to. I was driven out; we are having a ball tonight. Maryanka, ofcourse you'll come to Ustenka's?' he added, turning to the girl.

  Olenin felt surprised that Beletski could address this woman so easily.But Maryanka, as though she had not heard him, bent her head, andthrowing the spade across her shoulder went with her firm masculinetread towards the outhouse.

  'She's shy, the wench is shy,' Beletski called after her. 'Shy of you,'he added as, smiling gaily, he ran up the steps of the porch.

  'How is it you are having a ball and have been driven out?'

  'It's at Ustenka's, at my landlady's, that the ball is, and you two areinvited. A ball consists of a pie and a gathering of girls.'

  'What should we do there?'

  Beletski smiled knowingly and winked, jerking his head in the directionof the outhouse into which Maryanka had disappeared.

  Olenin shrugged his shoulders and blushed.

  'Well, really you are a strange fellow!' said he.

  'Come now, don't pretend'

  Olenin frowned, and Beletski noticing this smiled insinuatingly. 'Oh,come, what do you mean?' he said, 'living in the same house--and such afine girl, a splendid girl, a perfect beauty.'

  'Wonderfully beautiful! I never saw such a woman before,' repliedOlenin.

  'Well then?' said Beletski, quite unable to understand the situation.

  'It may be strange,' replied Olenin, 'but why should I not say what istrue? Since I have lived here women don't seem to exist for me. And itis so good, really! Now what can there be in common between us andwomen like these? Eroshka--that's a different matter! He and I have apassion in common--sport.'

  'There now! In common! And what have I in common with Amalia Ivanovna?It's the same thing! You may say they're not very clean--that's anothermatter... A la guerre, comme a la guerre! ...'

  'But I have never known any Amalia Ivanovas, and have never known howto behave with women of that sort,' replied Olenin. 'One cannot respectthem, but these I do respect.'

  'Well go on respecting them! Who wants to prevent you?'

  Olenin did not reply. He evidently wanted to complete what he had begunto say. It was very near his heart.

  'I know I am an exception...' He was visibly confused. 'But my life hasso shaped itself that I not only see no necessity to renounce my rules,but I could not live here, let alone live as happily as I am doing,were I to live as you do. Therefore I look for something quitedifferent from what you look for.'

  Beletski raised his eyebrows incredulously. 'Anyhow, come to me thisevening; Maryanka will be there and I will make you acquainted. Docome, please! If you feel dull you can go away. Will you come?'

  'I would come, but to speak frankly I am afraid of being' seriouslycarried away.'

  'Oh, oh, oh!' shouted Beletski. 'Only come, and I'll see that youaren't. Will you? On your word?'

  'I would come, but really I don't understand what we shall do; whatpart we shall play!'

  'Please, I beg of you. You will come?'

  'Yes, perhaps I'll come,' said Olenin.

  'Really now! Charming women such as one sees nowhere else, and to livelike a monk! What an idea! Why spoil your life and not make use of whatis at hand? Have you heard that our company is ordered to Vozdvizhensk?'

  'Hardly. I was told the 8th Company would be sent there,' said Olenin.

  'No. I have had a letter from the adjutant there. He writes that thePrince himself will take part in the campaign. I am very glad I shallsee something of him. I'm beginning to get tired of this place.'

  'I hear we shall start on a raid soon.'

  'I have not heard of it; but I have heard that Krinovitsin has receivedthe Order of St. Anna for a raid. He expected a lieutenancy,' saidBeletski laughing. 'He was let in! He has set off for headquarters.'

  It was growing dusk and Olenin began thinking about the party. Theinvitation he had received worried him. He felt inclined to go, butwhat might take place there seemed strange, absurd, and even ratheralarming. He knew that neither Cossack men nor older women, nor anyonebesides the girls, were to be there. What was going to happen? How washe to behave? What would they talk about? What connexion was therebetween him and those wild Cossack girls? Beletski had told him of suchcurious, cynical, and yet rigid relations. It seemed strange to thinkthat he would be there in the same h
ut with Maryanka and perhaps mighthave to talk to her. It seemed to him impossible when he remembered hermajestic bearing. But Beletski spoke of it as if it were all perfectlysimple. 'Is it possible that Beletski will treat Maryanka in the sameway? That is interesting,' thought he. 'No, better not go. It's all sohorrid, so vulgar, and above all--it leads to nothing!' But again hewas worried by the question of what would take place; and besides hefelt as if bound by a promise. He went out without having made up hismind one way or the other, but he walked as far as Beletski's, and wentin there.

  The hut in which Beletski lived was like Olenin's. It was raised nearlyfive feet from the ground on wooden piles, and had two rooms. In thefirst (which Olenin entered by the steep flight of steps) feather beds,rugs, blankets, and cushions were tastefully and handsomely arranged,Cossack fashion, along the main wall. On the side wall hung brassbasins and weapons, while on the floor, under a bench, lay watermelonsand pumpkins. In the second room there was a big brick oven, a table,and sectarian icons. It was here that Beletski was quartered, with hiscamp-bed and his pack and trunks. His weapons hung on the wall with alittle rug behind them, and on the table were his toilet appliances andsome portraits. A silk dressing-gown had been thrown on the bench.Beletski himself, clean and good-looking, lay on the bed in hisunderclothing, reading Les Trois Mousquetaires.

  He jumped up.

  'There, you see how I have arranged things. Fine! Well, it's good thatyou have come. They are working furiously. Do you know what the pie ismade of? Dough with a stuffing of pork and grapes. But that's not thepoint. You just look at the commotion out there!'

  And really, on looking out of the window they saw an unusual bustlegoing on in the hut. Girls ran in and out, now for one thing and nowfor another.

  'Will it soon be ready?' cried Beletski.

  'Very soon! Why? Is Grandad hungry?' and from the hut came the sound ofringing laughter.

  Ustenka, plump, small, rosy, and pretty, with her sleeves turned up,ran into Beletski's hut to fetch some plates.

  'Get away or I shall smash the plates!' she squeaked, escaping fromBeletski. 'You'd better come and help,' she shouted to Olenin,laughing. 'And don't forget to get some refreshments for the girls.'('Refreshments' meaning spicebread and sweets.)

  'And has Maryanka come?'

  'Of course! She brought some dough.'

  'Do you know,' said Beletski, 'if one were to dress Ustenka up andclean and polish her up a bit, she'd be better than all our beauties.Have you ever seen that Cossack woman who married a colonel; she wascharming! Borsheva? What dignity! Where do they get it...'

  'I have not seen Borsheva, but I think nothing could be better than thecostume they wear here.'

  'Ah, I'm first-rate at fitting into any kind of life,' said Beletskiwith a sigh of pleasure. 'I'll go and see what they are up to.'

  He threw his dressing-gown over his shoulders and ran out, shouting,'And you look after the "refreshments".'

  Olenin sent Beletski's orderly to buy spice-bread and honey; but itsuddenly seemed to him so disgusting to give money (as if he werebribing someone) that he gave no definite reply to the orderly'squestion: 'How much spice-bread with peppermint, and how much withhoney?'

  'Just as you please.'

  'Shall I spend all the money,' asked the old soldier impressively. 'Thepeppermint is dearer. It's sixteen kopeks.'

  'Yes, yes, spend it all,' answered Olenin and sat down by the window,surprised that his heart was thumping as if he were preparing himselffor something serious and wicked.

  He heard screaming and shrieking in the girls' hut when Beletski wentthere, and a few moments later saw how he jumped out and ran down thesteps, accompanied by shrieks, bustle, and laughter.

  'Turned out,' he said.

  A little later Ustenka entered and solemnly invited her visitors tocome in: announcing that all was ready.

  When they came into the room they saw that everything was really ready.Ustenka was rearranging the cushions along the wall. On the table,which was covered by a disproportionately small cloth, was a decanterof chikhir and some dried fish. The room smelt of dough and grapes.Some half dozen girls in smart tunics, with their heads not covered asusual with kerchiefs, were huddled together in a corner behind theoven, whispering, giggling, and spluttering with laughter.

  'I humbly beg you to do honour to my patron saint,' said Ustenka,inviting her guests to the table.

  Olenin noticed Maryanka among the group of girls, who without exceptionwere all handsome, and he felt vexed and hurt that he met her in suchvulgar and awkward circumstances. He felt stupid and awkward, and madeup his mind to do what Beletski did. Beletski stepped to the tablesomewhat solemnly yet with confidence and ease, drank a glass of wineto Ustenka's health, and invited the others to do the same. Ustenkaannounced that girls don't drink. 'We might with a little honey,'exclaimed a voice from among the group of girls. The orderly, who hadjust returned with the honey and spice-cakes, was called in. He lookedaskance (whether with envy or with contempt) at the gentlemen, who inhis opinion were on the spree; and carefully and conscientiously handedover to them a piece of honeycomb and the cakes wrapped up in a pieceof greyish paper, and began explaining circumstantially all about theprice and the change, but Beletski sent him away. Having mixed honeywith wine in the glasses, and having lavishly scattered the threepounds of spice-cakes on the table, Beletski dragged the girls fromtheir corners by force, made them sit down at the table, and begandistributing the cakes among them. Olenin involuntarily noticed howMaryanka's sunburnt but small hand closed on two round peppermint nutsand one brown one, and that she did not know what to do with them. Theconversation was halting and constrained, in spite of Ustenka's andBeletski's free and easy manner and their wish to enliven the company.Olenin faltered, and tried to think of something to say, feeling thathe was exciting curiosity and perhaps provoking ridicule and infectingthe others with his shyness. He blushed, and it seemed to him thatMaryanka in particular was feeling uncomfortable. 'Most likely they areexpecting us to give them some money,' thought he. 'How are we to doit? And how can we manage quickest to give it and get away?'