An hour after all this hubbub the garret door opened, and Gerasimshowed himself. He had on his best coat; he was leading Mumu by astring. Eroshka moved aside and let him pass. Gerasim went to thegates. All the small boys in the yard stared at him in silence. He didnot even turn round; he only put his cap on in the street. Gavrilasent the same Eroshka to follow him and keep watch on him as a spy.Eroshka, seeing from a distance that he had gone into a cookshop withhis dog, waited for him to come out again.
Gerasim was well known at the cookshop, and his signs were understood.He asked for cabbage soup with meat in it, and sat down with his armson the table. Mumu stood beside his chair, looking calmly at him withher intelligent eyes. Her coat was glossy; one could see she had justbeen combed down. They brought Gerasim the soup. He crumbled somebread into it, cut the meat up small, and put the plate on the ground.Mumu began eating in her usual refined way, her little muzzle daintilyheld so as scarcely to touch her food. Gerasim gazed a long while ather; two big tears suddenly rolled from his eyes; one fell on thedog's brow, the other into the soup. He shaded his face with his hand.Mumu ate up half the plateful, and came away from it, licking herlips. Gerasim got up, paid for the soup, and went out, followed by therather perplexed glances of the waiter. Eroshka, seeing Gerasim, hidround a corner, and letting him get in front, followed him again.
Gerasim walked without haste, still holding Mumu by a string. When hegot to the corner of the street, he stood still as though reflecting,and suddenly set off with rapid steps to the Crimean Ford. On theway he went into the yard of a house, where a lodge was being built,and carried away two bricks under his arm. At the Crimean Ford, heturned along the bank, went to a place where there were two littlerowing-boats fastened to stakes (he had noticed them there before),and jumped into one of them with Mumu. A lame old man came out of ashed in the corner of a kitchen-garden and shouted after him; butGerasim only nodded, and began rowing so vigorously, though againststream, that in an instant he had darted two hundred yards away. Theold man stood for a while, scratched his back first with the left andthen with the right hand, and went back hobbling to the shed.
Gerasim rowed on and on. Moscow was soon left behind. Meadowsstretched each side of the bank, market gardens, fields, and copses;peasants' huts began to make their appearance. There was the fragranceof the country. He threw down his oars, bent his head down to Mumu,who was sitting facing him on a dry cross seat--the bottom of the boatwas full of water--and stayed motionless, his mighty hands claspedupon her back, while the boat was gradually carried back by thecurrent towards the town. At last Gerasim drew himself up hurriedly,with a sort of sick anger in his face, he tied up the bricks he hadtaken with string, made a running noose, put it round Mumu's neck,lifted her up over the river, and for the last time looked at her....she watched him confidingly and without any fear, faintly wagging hertail. He turned away, frowned, and wrung his hands.... Gerasim heardnothing, neither the quick shrill whine of Mumu as she fell, nor theheavy splash of the water; for him the noisiest day was soundless andsilent as even the stillest night is not silent to us. When he openedhis eyes again, little wavelets were hurrying over the river, chasingone another; as before they broke against the boat's side, and onlyfar away behind wide circles moved widening to the bank.
Directly Gerasim had vanished from Eroshka's sight, the latterreturned home and reported what he had seen.
'Well, then,' observed Stepan, 'he'll drown her. Now we can feel easyabout it. If he once promises a thing....'
No one saw Gerasim during the day. He did not have dinner at home.Evening came on they were all gathered together to supper, excepthim.
'What a strange creature that Gerasim is!' piped a fat laundrymaid;'fancy, upsetting himself like that over a dog.... Upon my word!'
'But Gerasim has been here,' Stepan cried all at once, scraping up hisporridge with a spoon.
'How? when?'
'Why, a couple of hours ago. Yes, indeed! I ran against him at thegate; he was going out again from here; he was coming out of theyard. I tried to ask him about his dog, but he wasn't in the best ofhumours, I could see. Well, he gave me a shove; I suppose he onlymeant to put me out of his way, as if he'd say, "Let me go, do!" buthe fetched me such a crack on my neck, so seriously, that--oh! oh!'And Stepan, who could not help laughing, shrugged up and rubbed theback of his head. 'Yes,' he added; 'he has got a fist; it's somethinglike a fist, there's no denying that!'
They all laughed at Stepan, and after supper they separated to go tobed.
Meanwhile, at that very time, a gigantic figure with a bag on hisshoulders and a stick in his hand, was eagerly and persistentlystepping out along the T---- highroad. It was Gerasim. He was hurryingon without looking round; hurrying homewards, to his own village, tohis own country. After drowning poor Mumu, he had run back to hisgarret, hurriedly packed a few things together in an old horsecloth,tied it up in a bundle, tossed it on his shoulder, and so was ready.He had noticed the road carefully when he was brought to Moscow; thevillage his mistress had taken him from lay only about twenty milesoff the highroad. He walked along it with a sort of invinciblepurpose, a desperate and at the same time joyous determination. Hewalked, his shoulders thrown back and his chest expanded; his eyeswere fixed greedily straight before him. He hastened as though his oldmother were waiting for him at home, as though she were calling himto her after long wanderings in strange parts, among strangers. Thesummer night, that was just drawing in, was still and warm; on oneside, where the sun had set, the horizon was still light and faintlyflushed with the last glow of the vanished day; on the other side ablue-grey twilight had already risen up. The night was coming up fromthat quarter. Quails were in hundreds around; corncrakes were callingto one another in the thickets.... Gerasim could not hear them; hecould not hear the delicate night-whispering of the trees, by whichhis strong legs carried him, but he smelt the familiar scent of theripening rye, which was wafted from the dark fields; he felt the wind,flying to meet him--the wind from home--beat caressingly upon hisface, and play with his hair and his beard. He saw before him thewhitening road homewards, straight as an arrow. He saw in the skystars innumerable, lighting up his way, and stepped out, strong andbold as a lion, so that when the rising sun shed its moist rosy lightupon the still fresh and unwearied traveller, already thirty miles laybetween him and Moscow.
In a couple of days he was at home, in his little hut, to the greatastonishment of the soldier's wife who had been put in there. Afterpraying before the holy pictures, he set off at once to the villageelder. The village elder was at first surprised; but the haycuttinghad just begun; Gerasim was a first-rate mower, and they put a scytheinto his hand on the spot, and he went to mow in his old way, mowingso that the peasants were fairly astounded as they watched his widesweeping strokes and the heaps he raked together....
In Moscow the day after Gerasim's flight they missed him. They wentto his garret, rummaged about in it, and spoke to Gavrila. He came,looked, shrugged his shoulders, and decided that the dumb man hadeither run away or had drowned himself with his stupid dog. Theygave information to the police, and informed the lady. The old ladywas furious, burst into tears, gave orders that he was to be foundwhatever happened, declared she had never ordered the dog to bedestroyed, and, in fact, gave Gavrila such a rating that he could donothing all day but shake his head and murmur, 'Well!' until UncleTail checked him at last, sympathetically echoing 'We-ell!' At lastthe news came from the country of Gerasim's being there. The oldlady was somewhat pacified; at first she issued a mandate for him tobe brought back without delay to Moscow; afterwards, however, shedeclared that such an ungrateful creature was absolutely of no use toher. Soon after this she died herself; and her heirs had no thought tospare for Gerasim; they let their mother's other servants redeem theirfreedom on payment of an annual rent.
And Gerasim is living still, a lonely man in his lonely hut; he isstrong and healthy as before, and does the work of four men as before,and as before is serious and steady. But his neighbou
rs have observedthat ever since his return from Moscow he has quite given up thesociety of women; he will not even look at them, and does not keepeven a single dog. 'It's his good luck, though,' the peasants reason'that he can get on without female folk; and as for a dog--what needhas he of a dog? you wouldn't get a thief to go into his yard for anymoney!' Such is the fame of the dumb man's Titanic strength.
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