medicalman’s history; and explained that he, with the influence which hepossessed over his uncle, might do some good to the poor fellow.
“‘I’ll do it--I’ll do it, of course!’ he said. ‘I shall attack my uncleabout it tomorrow morning, and I’m very glad you told me the story. Buthow was it that you thought of coming to me about it, Terentieff?’
“‘So much depends upon your uncle,’ I said. ‘And besides we have alwaysbeen enemies, Bachmatoff; and as you are a generous sort of fellow, Ithought you would not refuse my request because I was your enemy!’ Iadded with irony.
“‘Like Napoleon going to England, eh?’ cried he, laughing. ‘I’ll do itthough--of course, and at once, if I can!’ he added, seeing that I roseseriously from my chair at this point.
“And sure enough the matter ended as satisfactorily as possible. A monthor so later my medical friend was appointed to another post. He got histravelling expenses paid, and something to help him to start life withonce more. I think Bachmatoff must have persuaded the doctor to accepta loan from himself. I saw Bachmatoff two or three times, about thisperiod, the third time being when he gave a farewell dinner to thedoctor and his wife before their departure, a champagne dinner.
“Bachmatoff saw me home after the dinner and we crossed the Nicolaibridge. We were both a little drunk. He told me of his joy, the joyfulfeeling of having done a good action; he said that it was all thanks tomyself that he could feel this satisfaction; and held forth about thefoolishness of the theory that individual charity is useless.
“I, too, was burning to have my say!
“‘In Moscow,’ I said, ‘there was an old state counsellor, a civilgeneral, who, all his life, had been in the habit of visiting theprisons and speaking to criminals. Every party of convicts on its wayto Siberia knew beforehand that on the Vorobeef Hills the “old general” would pay them a visit. He did all he undertook seriously and devotedly.He would walk down the rows of the unfortunate prisoners, stop beforeeach individual and ask after his needs--he never sermonized them; hespoke kindly to them--he gave them money; he brought them all sorts ofnecessaries for the journey, and gave them devotional books, choosingthose who could read, under the firm conviction that they would read tothose who could not, as they went along.
“‘He scarcely ever talked about the particular crimes of any of them,but listened if any volunteered information on that point. All theconvicts were equal for him, and he made no distinction. He spoke to allas to brothers, and every one of them looked upon him as a father. Whenhe observed among the exiles some poor woman with a child, he wouldalways come forward and fondle the little one, and make it laugh. Hecontinued these acts of mercy up to his very death; and by that time allthe criminals, all over Russia and Siberia, knew him!
“‘A man I knew who had been to Siberia and returned, told me that hehimself had been a witness of how the very most hardened criminalsremembered the old general, though, in point of fact, he could never,of course, have distributed more than a few pence to each member of aparty. Their recollection of him was not sentimental or particularlydevoted. Some wretch, for instance, who had been a murderer--cutting thethroat of a dozen fellow-creatures, for instance; or stabbing sixlittle children for his own amusement (there have been such men!)--wouldperhaps, without rhyme or reason, suddenly give a sigh and say, “Iwonder whether that old general is alive still!” Although perhaps he hadnot thought of mentioning him for a dozen years before! How can one saywhat seed of good may have been dropped into his soul, never to die?’
“I continued in that strain for a long while, pointing out to Bachmatoffhow impossible it is to follow up the effects of any isolated good deedone may do, in all its influences and subtle workings upon the heart andafter-actions of others.
“‘And to think that you are to be cut off from life!’ remarkedBachmatoff, in a tone of reproach, as though he would like to findsomeone to pitch into on my account.
“We were leaning over the balustrade of the bridge, looking into theNeva at this moment.
“‘Do you know what has suddenly come into my head?’ said I,suddenly--leaning further and further over the rail.
“‘Surely not to throw yourself into the river?’ cried Bachmatoff inalarm. Perhaps he read my thought in my face.
“‘No, not yet. At present nothing but the following consideration. Yousee I have some two or three months left me to live--perhaps four; well,supposing that when I have but a month or two more, I take a fancy forsome “good deed” that needs both trouble and time, like this business ofour doctor friend, for instance: why, I shall have to give up the ideaof it and take to something else--some _little_ good deed, _more within mymeans_, eh? Isn’t that an amusing idea!’
“Poor Bachmatoff was much impressed--painfully so. He took me all theway home; not attempting to console me, but behaving with the greatestdelicacy. On taking leave he pressed my hand warmly and asked permissionto come and see me. I replied that if he came to me as a ‘comforter,’ soto speak (for he would be in that capacity whether he spoke to me in asoothing manner or only kept silence, as I pointed out to him), hewould but remind me each time of my approaching death! He shrugged hisshoulders, but quite agreed with me; and we parted better friends than Ihad expected.
“But that evening and that night were sown the first seeds of my ‘lastconviction.’ I seized greedily on my new idea; I thirstily drank inall its different aspects (I did not sleep a wink that night!), and thedeeper I went into it the more my being seemed to merge itself in it,and the more alarmed I became. A dreadful terror came over me at last,and did not leave me all next day.
“Sometimes, thinking over this, I became quite numb with the terrorof it; and I might well have deduced from this fact, that my ‘lastconviction’ was eating into my being too fast and too seriously, andwould undoubtedly come to its climax before long. And for the climax Ineeded greater determination than I yet possessed.
“However, within three weeks my determination was taken, owing to a verystrange circumstance.
“Here on my paper, I make a note of all the figures and dates thatcome into my explanation. Of course, it is all the same to me, but justnow--and perhaps only at this moment--I desire that all those who are tojudge of my action should see clearly out of how logical a sequence ofdeductions has at length proceeded my ‘last conviction.’
“I have said above that the determination needed by me for theaccomplishment of my final resolve, came to hand not through anysequence of causes, but thanks to a certain strange circumstance whichhad perhaps no connection whatever with the matter at issue. Ten daysago Rogojin called upon me about certain business of his own with whichI have nothing to do at present. I had never seen Rogojin before, buthad often heard about him.
“I gave him all the information he needed, and he very soon took hisdeparture; so that, since he only came for the purpose of gaining theinformation, the matter might have been expected to end there.
“But he interested me too much, and all that day I was under theinfluence of strange thoughts connected with him, and I determined toreturn his visit the next day.
“Rogojin was evidently by no means pleased to see me, and hinted,delicately, that he saw no reason why our acquaintance should continue.For all that, however, I spent a very interesting hour, and so, I daresay, did he. There was so great a contrast between us that I am sure wemust both have felt it; anyhow, I felt it acutely. Here was I, with mydays numbered, and he, a man in the full vigour of life, living inthe present, without the slightest thought for ‘final convictions,’ ornumbers, or days, or, in fact, for anything but that which-which--well,which he was mad about, if he will excuse me the expression--as a feebleauthor who cannot express his ideas properly.
“In spite of his lack of amiability, I could not help seeing, in Rogojina man of intellect and sense; and although, perhaps, there was little inthe outside world which was of interest to him, still he was clearly aman with eyes to see.
“I hinted nothing to him about my ‘final convic
tion,’ but it appearedto me that he had guessed it from my words. He remained silent--he isa terribly silent man. I remarked to him, as I rose to depart, that,in spite of the contrast and the wide differences between us two,les extremites se touchent [‘extremes meet,’ as I explained to him inRussian); so that maybe he was not so far from my final conviction asappeared.
“His only reply to this was a sour grimace. He rose and looked formy cap, and placed it in my hand, and led me out of the house--thatdreadful gloomy house of his--to all appearances, of course, as though Iwere leaving of my own accord, and he were simply seeing me to thedoor out of politeness. His house impressed me much; it is like aburial-ground, he seems to like it, which is, however, quite natural.Such a full life as he leads is so overflowing with absorbing intereststhat he has little need of assistance from his surroundings.
“The visit to Rogojin exhausted me terribly. Besides, I had felt illsince the morning; and by evening I was so weak that I took to my bed,and was in high fever at intervals, and even delirious. Colia sat withme
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