The Cossacks: A Tale of 1852

by graf Leo Tolstoy

  Chapter XXXI

  The sun had come out from behind the pear-tree that had shaded thewagon, and even through the branches that Ustenka had fixed up itscorched the faces of the sleeping girls. Maryanka woke up and beganarranging the kerchief on her head. Looking about her, beyond thepear-tree she noticed their lodger, who with his gun on his shoulderstood talking to her father. She nudged Ustenka and smilingly pointedhim out to her.

  'I went yesterday and didn't find a single one,' Olenin was saying ashe looked about uneasily, not seeing Maryanka through the branches.

  'Ah, you should go out there in that direction, go right as bycompasses, there in a disused vineyard denominated as the Waste, haresare always to be found,' said the cornet, having at once changed hismanner of speech.

  'A fine thing to go looking for hares in these busy times! You hadbetter come and help us, and do some work with the girls,' the oldwoman said merrily. 'Now then, girls, up with you!' she cried.

  Maryanka and Ustenka under the cart were whispering and could hardlyrestrain their laughter.

  Since it had become known that Olenin had given a horse worth fiftyrubles to Lukashka, his hosts had become more amiable and the cornet inparticular saw with pleasure his daughter's growing intimacy withOlenin. 'But I don't know how to do the work,' replied Olenin, tryingnot to look through the green branches under the wagon where he had nownoticed Maryanka's blue smock and red kerchief.

  'Come, I'll give you some peaches,' said the old woman.

  'It's only according to the ancient Cossack hospitality. It's her oldwoman's silliness,' said the cornet, explaining and apparentlycorrecting his wife's words. 'In Russia, I expect, it's not so muchpeaches as pineapple jam and preserves you have been accustomed to eatat your pleasure.'

  'So you say hares are to be found in the disused vineyard?' askedOlenin. 'I will go there,' and throwing a hasty glance through thegreen branches he raised his cap and disappeared between the regularrows of green vines.

  The sun had already sunk behind the fence of the vineyards, and itsbroken rays glittered through the translucent leaves when Oleninreturned to his host's vineyard. The wind was falling and a coolfreshness was beginning to spread around. By some instinct Oleninrecognized from afar Maryanka's blue smock among the rows of vine, and,picking grapes on his way, he approached her. His highly excited dogalso now and then seized a low-hanging cluster of grapes in hisslobbering mouth. Maryanka, her face flushed, her sleeves rolled up,and her kerchief down below her chin, was rapidly cutting the heavyclusters and laying them in a basket. Without letting go of the vineshe had hold of, she stopped to smile pleasantly at him and resumed herwork. Olenin drew near and threw his gun behind his back to have hishands free. 'Where are your people? May God aid you! Are you alone?' hemeant to say but did not say, and only raised his cap in silence.

  He was ill at ease alone with Maryanka, but as if purposely to tormenthimself he went up to her.

  'You'll be shooting the women with your gun like that,' said Maryanka.

  'No, I shan't shoot them.'

  They were both silent.

  Then after a pause she said: 'You should help me.'

  He took out his knife and began silently to cut off the clusters. Hereached from under the leaves low down a thick bunch weighing aboutthree pounds, the grapes of which grew so close that they flattenedeach other for want of space. He showed it to Maryanka.

  'Must they all be cut? Isn't this one too green?'

  'Give it here.'

  Their hands touched. Olenin took her hand, and she looked at himsmiling.

  'Are you going to be married soon?' he asked.

  She did not answer, but turned away with a stern look.

  'Do you love Lukashka?'

  'What's that to you?'

  'I envy him!'

  'Very likely!' 'No really. You are so beautiful!'

  And he suddenly felt terribly ashamed of having said it, so commonplacedid the words seem to him. He flushed, lost control of himself, andseized both her hands.

  'Whatever I am, I'm not for you. Why do you make fun of me?' repliedMaryanka, but her look showed how certainly she knew he was not makingfun.

  'Making fun? If you only knew how I--'

  The words sounded still more commonplace, they accorded still less withwhat he felt, but yet he continued, 'I don't know what I would not dofor you--'

  'Leave me alone, you pitch!'

  But her face, her shining eyes, her swelling bosom, her shapely legs,said something quite different. It seemed to him that she understoodhow petty were all things he had said, but that she was superior tosuch considerations. It seemed to him she had long known all he wishedand was not able to tell her, but wanted to hear how he would say it.'And how can she help knowing,' he thought, 'since I only want to tellher all that she herself is? But she does not wish to under-stand, doesnot wish to reply.'

  'Hallo!' suddenly came Ustenka's high voice from behind the vine at nogreat distance, followed by her shrill laugh. 'Come and help me, DmitriAndreich. I am all alone,' she cried, thrusting her round, naive littleface through the vines.

  Olenin did not answer nor move from his place.

  Maryanka went on cutting and continually looked up at Olenin. He wasabout to say something, but stopped, shrugged his shoulders and, havingjerked up his gun, walked out of the vineyard with rapid strides.