I said, 'come here without the candle!' He came in.'Well, now,' I said, 'do you hear?' 'Yes,' he said. I could not seehim, but I felt that the fellow was scared. 'What do you make of it?'said I. 'What do you bid me make of it, Porfiry Kapitonitch? It'ssorcery!' 'You are a foolish fellow,' I said, 'hold your tongue withyour sorcery....' And our voices quavered like a bird's and we weretrembling in the dark as though we were in a fever. I lighted acandle, no dog, no sound, only us two, as white as chalk. So I kept acandle burning till morning and I assure you, gentlemen, you maybelieve me or you may not, but from that night for six weeks the samething was repeated. In the end I actually got used to it and beganputting out the candle, because I couldn't get to sleep in the light.'Let him fidget,' I thought, 'he doesn't do me any harm.'"
"Well, I see you are not one of the chicken-hearted brigade," AntonStepanitch interrupted in a half-contemptuous, half-condescendingtone! "One can see the Hussar at once!"
"I shouldn't be afraid of you in any case," Porfiry Kapitonitchobserved, and for an instant he really did look like a Hussar.
"But listen to the rest. A neighbour came to see me, the very one withwhom I used to play cards. He dined with me on what luck provided anddropped some fifty roubles for his visit; night came on, it was timefor him to be off. But I had my own idea. 'Stay the night with me,' Isaid, 'Vassily Vassilitch; tomorrow, please God, you will win itback.' Vassily Vassilitch considered and stayed. I had a bed put upfor him in my room.... Well, we went to bed, smoked, chatted--aboutthe fair sex for the most part, as is only suitable in bachelorcompany--we laughed, of course; I saw Vassily Vassilitch put out hiscandle and turn his back towards me: as much as to say: 'Good night.'I waited a little, then I, too, put out my candle. And, only fancy, Ihad hardly time to wonder what sort of trick would be played thistime, when the sweet creature was moving again. And moving was notall; it came out from under the bed, walked across the room, tapped onthe floor with its paws, shook its ears and all of a sudden pushedagainst the very chair that was close by Vassily Vassilitch's bed.'Porfiry Kapitonitch,' said the latter, and in such an unconcernedvoice, you know, 'I did not know you had a dog. What sort is it, asetter?' 'I haven't a dog,' I said, 'and never have had one!' 'Youhaven't? Why, what's this?' 'What's _this_?' said I, 'why, lightthe candle and then you will see for yourself.' 'Isn't it a dog?''No.' Vassily Vassilitch turned over in bed. 'But you are joking, dashit all.' 'No, I am not joking.' I heard him go strike, strike, with amatch, while the creature persisted in scratching its ribs. The lightflared up ... and, hey presto! not a trace remained! VassilyVassilitch looked at me and I looked at him. 'What trick is this?' hesaid. 'It's a trick,' I said, 'that, if you were to set Socrateshimself on one side and Frederick the Great on the other, even theycould not make it out.' And then I told him all about it. Didn't myVassily Vassilitch jump out of bed! As though he had been scalded! Hecouldn't get into his boots. 'Horses,' he cried, 'horses!' I begantrying to persuade him, but it was no use! He positively gasped! 'Iwon't stay,' he said, 'not a minute! You must be a man under a curse!Horses.' However, I prevailed upon him. Only his bed was dragged intoanother room and nightlights were lighted everywhere. At our tea inthe morning he had regained his equanimity; he began to give meadvice. 'You should try being away from home for a few days, PorfiryKapitonitch,' he said, 'perhaps this abomination would leave you.' AndI must tell you: my neighbour was a man of immense intellect. Hemanaged his mother-in-law wonderfully: he fastened an I. O. U. uponher; he must have chosen a sentimental moment! She became as soft assilk, she gave him an authorisation for the management of all herestate--what more would you have? You know it is something to get thebetter of one's mother-in-law. Eh! You can judge for yourselves.However, he took leave of me in some displeasure; I'd stripped him ofa hundred roubles again. He actually abused me. 'You are ungrateful.'he said, 'you have no feeling'; but how was I to blame? Well, be thatas it may, I considered his advice. That very day I drove off to thetown and put up at an inn, kept by an old man I knew, a Dissenter. Hewas a worthy old fellow, though a little morose from living insolitude, all his family were dead. But he disliked tobacco and hadthe greatest loathing for dogs; I believe he would have been torn topieces rather than consent to let a dog into his room. 'For how canone?' he would say, 'the Queen of Heaven herself is graciously pleasedto be on my wall there, and is an unclean dog to put his infidel nosethere?' Of course, it was lack of education! However, to my thinking,whatever wisdom a man has he had better stick to that."
"I see you are a great philosopher," Anton Stepanitch interrupted asecond time with the same sarcastic smile.
This time Porfiry Kapitonitch actually frowned.
"How much I know of philosophy I cannot tell," he observed, tugginggrimly at his moustache, "but I would be glad to give you a lesson init."
We all simply stared at Anton Stepanitch. Every one of us expected ahaughty reply, or at least a glance like a flash of lightning.... Butthe civil councillor turned his contemptuous smile into one ofindifference, then yawned, swung his foot and--that was all!
"Well, I stayed at that old fellow's," Porfiry Kapitonitch went on."He gave me a little room, not one of the best, as we were oldfriends; his own was close by, the other side of the partition--andthat was just what I wanted. The tortures I faced that night! A littleroom, a regular oven, stuffiness, flies, and such sticky ones; in thecorner an extraordinarily big shrine with ancient ikons, with dingysetting in relief on them. It fairly reeked of oil and some otherstuff, too; there were two featherbeds on the beds. If you moved thepillow a black beetle would run from under it.... I had drunk anincredible quantity of tea, feeling so dreary--it was simply dreadful!I got into bed; there was no possibility of sleeping--and, the otherside of the partition, my host was sighing, clearing his throat,repeating his prayers. However, he subsided at last. I heard him beginto snore, but only faintly, in the old-fashioned polite way. I had putmy candle out long ago, but the little lamp was burning before theikons.... That prevented it, I suppose. So I got up softly with barefeet, climbed up to the lamp, and blew it out.... Nothing happened.'Oho!' I thought, 'so it doesn't come off in other people's houses.'
"But I had no sooner got into bed than there was a commotion again. Hewas scraping on the floor and scratching himself and shaking hisears ... the usual thing, in fact. Very good! I lay still and waited tosee what would happen. I heard the old man wake up. 'Sir,' he said,'hey, sir.' 'What is it?' 'Did you put out the lamp?' But withoutwaiting for my answer, he burst out all at once. 'What's that? What'sthat, a dog? A dog! Ah, you vile heretic!' 'Wait a bit, old man, beforeyou scold,' I said. 'You had better come here yourself. Things arehappening,' I said, 'that may well make you wonder.' The old manstirred behind the partition and came in to me, with a candle, a very,very thin one, made of yellow wax; I was surprised when I looked athim! He looked bristling all over, with hairy ears and eyes as fierceas a weasel's; he had on a white woollen night cap, a beard to hiswaist, white; too, and a waistcoat with copper buttons on it over hisshirt and fur boots on his feet and he smelt of juniper. In thisattire he approached the ikons, crossed himself three times with histwo fingers crossed, lighted the lamp, crossed himself again and,turning to me, just grunted: 'Explain!' And thereupon, without delay,I told him all that had happened. The old man listened to my accountand did not drop one word, simply shook his head. Then he sat down onmy bed and still said nothing. He scratched his chest, the back of hishead and so on and said nothing. 'Well,' I said, 'Fedul Ivanitch, whatdo you think? Is it some devil's sorcery or what?' The old man lookedat me. 'What an idea! Devil's sorcery! A tobacco-smoker like you mightwell have that at home, but not here. Only think what holiness thereis here! Sorcery, indeed!' 'And if it is not sorcery, what is it,then?' The old man was silent again; again he scratched himself andsaid at last, but in a muffled voice, for his moustache was all overhis mouth: 'You go to the town of Belyov. There is no one who can helpyou but one man. And that man lives in Belyov. He is one of ourpeople. If he is willing to help you, you are lucky; if he is not,not
hing can be done.' 'And how am I to find this man?' I said. 'I candirect you about that,' he answered; 'but how can it be sorcery? It isan apparition, or rather an indication; but you cannot comprehend it,it is beyond your understanding. Lie down to sleep now with theblessing of
Knock, Knock, Knock and Other Stories Page 23
