Childhood, Boyhood, Youth

by Leo Tolstoy

  Crusade?" he went on, balancing himself on his chair and looking gravely

  at his feet. "Firstly, tell me something about the reasons which induced

  the French king to assume the cross" (here he raised his eyebrows and

  pointed to the inkstand); "then explain to me the general characteristics

  of the Crusade" (here he made a sweeping gesture with his hand, as though

  to seize hold of something with it); "and lastly, expound to me the

  influence of this Crusade upon the European states in general" (drawing

  the copy books to the left side of the table) "and upon the French state

  in particular" (drawing one of them to the right, and inclining his head

  in the same direction).

  I swallowed a few times, coughed, bent forward, and was silent. Then,

  taking a pen from the table, I began to pick it to pieces, yet still

  said nothing.

  "Allow me the pen--I shall want it," said the master. "Well?"

  "Louis the-er-Saint was-was-a very good and wise king."

  "What?"

  "King, He took it into his head to go to Jerusalem, and handed over the

  reins of government to his mother."

  "What was her name?

  "B-b-b-lanka."

  "What? Belanka?"

  I laughed in a rather forced manner.

  "Well, is that all you know?" he asked again, smiling.

  I had nothing to lose now, so I began chattering the first thing that

  came into my head. The master remained silent as he gathered together

  the remains of the pen which I had left strewn about the table, looked

  gravely past my ear at the wall, and repeated from time to time, "Very

  well, very well." Though I was conscious that I knew nothing whatever

  and was expressing myself all wrong, I felt much hurt at the fact that

  he never either corrected or interrupted me.

  "What made him think of going to Jerusalem?" he asked at last, repeating

  some words of my own.

  "Because--because--that is to say--"

  My confusion was complete, and I relapsed into silence, I felt that,

  even if this disgusting history master were to go on putting questions

  to me, and gazing inquiringly into my face, for a year, I should never

  be able to enunciate another syllable. After staring at me for some

  three minutes, he suddenly assumed a mournful cast of countenance, and

  said in an agitated voice to Woloda (who was just re-entering the room):

  "Allow me the register. I will write my remarks."

  He opened the book thoughtfully, and in his fine caligraphy marked FIVE

  for Woloda for diligence, and the same for good behaviour. Then, resting

  his pen on the line where my report was to go, he looked at me and

  reflected. Suddenly his hand made a decisive movement and, behold,

  against my name stood a clearly-marked ONE, with a full stop after it!

  Another movement and in the behaviour column there stood another one and

  another full stop! Quietly closing the book, the master then rose, and

  moved towards the door as though unconscious of my look of entreaty,

  despair, and reproach.

  "Michael Lavionitch!" I said.

  "No!" he replied, as though knowing beforehand what I was about to say.

  "It is impossible for you to learn in that way. I am not going to earn

  my money for nothing."

  He put on his goloshes and cloak, and then slowly tied a scarf about his

  neck. To think that he could care about such trifles after what had just

  happened to me! To him it was all a mere stroke of the pen, but to me it

  meant the direst misfortune.

  "Is the lesson over?" asked St. Jerome, entering.

  "Yes."

  "And was the master pleased with you?"

  "Yes."

  "How many marks did he give you?"

  "Five."

  "And to Nicholas?"

  I was silent.

  "I think four," said Woloda. His idea was to save me for at least today.

  If punishment there must be, it need not be awarded while we had guests.

  "Voyons, Messieurs!" (St. Jerome was forever saying "Voyons!") "Faites

  votre toilette, et descendons."

  XII. THE KEY

  We had hardly descended and greeted our guests when luncheon was

  announced. Papa was in the highest of spirits since for some time

  past he had been winning. He had presented Lubotshka with a silver tea

  service, and suddenly remembered, after luncheon, that he had forgotten

  a box of bonbons which she was to have too.

  "Why send a servant for it? YOU had better go, Koko," he said to me

  jestingly. "The keys are in the tray on the table, you know. Take them,

  and with the largest one open the second drawer on the right. There you

  will find the box of bonbons. Bring it here."

  "Shall I get you some cigars as well?" said I, knowing that he always

  smoked after luncheon.

  "Yes, do; but don't touch anything else."

  I found the keys, and was about to carry out my orders, when I was

  seized with a desire to know what the smallest of the keys on the bunch

  belonged to.

  On the table I saw, among many other things, a padlocked portfolio,

  and at once felt curious to see if that was what the key fitted. My

  experiment was crowned with success. The portfolio opened and disclosed

  a number of papers. Curiosity so strongly urged me also to ascertain

  what those papers contained that the voice of conscience was stilled,

  and I began to read their contents. . . .

  My childish feeling of unlimited respect for my elders, especially for

  Papa, was so strong within me that my intellect involuntarily refused to

  draw any conclusions from what I had seen. I felt that Papa was living

  in a sphere completely apart from, incomprehensible by, and unattainable

  for, me, as well as one that was in every way excellent, and that any

  attempt on my part to criticise the secrets of his life would constitute

  something like sacrilege.

  For this reason, the discovery which I made from Papa's portfolio left

  no clear impression upon my mind, but only a dim consciousness that I

  had done wrong. I felt ashamed and confused.

  The feeling made me eager to shut the portfolio again as quickly as

  possible, but it seemed as though on this unlucky day I was destined to

  experience every possible kind of adversity. I put the key back into the

  padlock and turned it round, but not in the right direction. Thinking

  that the portfolio was now locked, I pulled at the key and, oh horror!

  found my hand come away with only the top half of the key in it! In vain

  did I try to put the two halves together, and to extract the portion

  that was sticking in the padlock. At last I had to resign myself to the

  dreadful thought that I had committed a new crime--one which would be

  discovered to-day as soon as ever Papa returned to his study! First of

  all, Mimi's accusation on the staircase, and then that one mark, and

  then this key! Nothing worse could happen now. This very evening

  I should be assailed successively by Grandmamma (because of Mimi's

  denunciation), by St. Jerome (because of the solitary mark), and by Papa

  (because of the matter of this key)--yes, all in one evening!

  "What on earth is to become of me? What have I done?" I exclaimed as

 
I paced the soft carpet. "Well," I went on with sudden determination,

  "what MUST come, MUST--that's all;" and, taking up the bonbons and the

  cigars, I ran back to the other part of the house.

  The fatalistic formula with which I had concluded (and which was one

  that I often heard Nicola utter during my childhood) always produced

  in me, at the more difficult crises of my life, a momentarily soothing,

  beneficial effect. Consequently, when I re-entered the drawing-room,

  I was in a rather excited, unnatural mood, yet one that was perfectly

  cheerful.

  XIII. THE TRAITRESS

  After luncheon we began to play at round games, in which I took a lively

  part. While indulging in "cat and mouse", I happened to cannon rather

  awkwardly against the Kornakoffs' governess, who was playing with us,

  and, stepping on her dress, tore a large hole in it. Seeing that the

  girls--particularly Sonetchka--were anything but displeased at the

  spectacle of the governess angrily departing to the maidservants' room

  to have her dress mended, I resolved to procure them the satisfaction

  a second time. Accordingly, in pursuance of this amiable resolution, I

  waited until my victim returned, and then began to gallop madly round

  her, until a favourable moment occurred for once more planting my

  heel upon her dress and reopening the rent. Sonetchka and the young

  princesses had much ado to restrain their laughter, which excited my

  conceit the more, but St. Jerome, who had probably divined my tricks,

  came up to me with the frown which I could never abide in him, and said

  that, since I seemed disposed to mischief, he would have to send me away

  if I did not moderate my behaviour.

  However, I was in the desperate position of a person who, having staked

  more than he has in his pocket, and feeling that he can never make up

  his account, continues to plunge on unlucky cards--not because he hopes

  to regain his losses, but because it will not do for him to stop and

  consider. So, I merely laughed in an impudent fashion and flung away

  from my monitor.

  After "cat and mouse", another game followed in which the gentlemen sit

  on one row of chairs and the ladies on another, and choose each other

  for partners. The youngest princess always chose the younger Iwin,

  Katenka either Woloda or Ilinka, and Sonetchka Seriosha--nor, to my

  extreme astonishment, did Sonetchka seem at all embarrassed when her

  cavalier went and sat down beside her. On the contrary, she only laughed

  her sweet, musical laugh, and made a sign with her head that he had

  chosen right. Since nobody chose me, I always had the mortification of

  finding myself left over, and of hearing them say, "Who has been left

  out? Oh, Nicolinka. Well, DO take him, somebody." Consequently, whenever

  it came to my turn to guess who had chosen me, I had to go either to

  my sister or to one of the ugly elder princesses. Sonetchka seemed so

  absorbed in Seriosha that in her eyes I clearly existed no longer. I do

  not quite know why I called her "the traitress" in my thoughts, since

  she had never promised to choose me instead of Seriosha, but, for all

  that, I felt convinced that she was treating me in a very abominable

  fashion. After the game was finished, I actually saw "the traitress"

  (from whom I nevertheless could not withdraw my eyes) go with Seriosha

  and Katenka into a corner, and engage in secret confabulation.

  Stealing softly round the piano which masked the conclave, I beheld the

  following:

  Katenka was holding up a pocket-handkerchief by two of its corners, so

  as to form a screen for the heads of her two companions. "No, you have

  lost! You must pay the forfeit!" cried Seriosha at that moment, and

  Sonetchka, who was standing in front of him, blushed like a criminal

  as she replied, "No, I have NOT lost! HAVE I, Mademoiselle Katherine?"

  "Well, I must speak the truth," answered Katenka, "and say that you HAVE

  lost, my dear." Scarcely had she spoken the words when Seriosha embraced

  Sonetchka, and kissed her right on her rosy lips! And Sonetchka smiled

  as though it were nothing, but merely something very pleasant!

  Horrors! The artful "traitress!"

  XIV. THE RETRIBUTION

  Instantly, I began to feel a strong contempt for the female sex in

  general and Sonetchka in particular. I began to think that there was

  nothing at all amusing in these games--that they were only fit for

  girls, and felt as though I should like to make a great noise, or to do

  something of such extraordinary boldness that every one would be forced

  to admire it. The opportunity soon arrived. St. Jerome said something to

  Mimi, and then left the room, I could hear his footsteps ascending the

  staircase, and then passing across the schoolroom, and the idea occurred

  to me that Mimi must have told him her story about my being found on the

  landing, and thereupon he had gone to look at the register. (In those

  days, it must be remembered, I believed that St. Jerome's whole aim in

  life was to annoy me.) Some where I have read that, not infrequently,

  children of from twelve to fourteen years of age--that is to say,

  children just passing from childhood to adolescence--are addicted to

  incendiarism, or even to murder. As I look back upon my childhood, and

  particularly upon the mood in which I was on that (for myself) most

  unlucky day, I can quite understand the possibility of such terrible

  crimes being committed by children without any real aim in view--without

  any real wish to do wrong, but merely out of curiosity or under the

  influence of an unconscious necessity for action. There are moments when

  the human being sees the future in such lurid colours that he

  shrinks from fixing his mental eye upon it, puts a check upon all his

  intellectual activity, and tries to feel convinced that the future will

  never be, and that the past has never been. At such moments--moments

  when thought does not shrink from manifestations of will, and the carnal

  instincts alone constitute the springs of life--I can understand that

  want of experience (which is a particularly predisposing factor in

  this connection) might very possibly lead a child, aye, without fear

  or hesitation, but rather with a smile of curiosity on its face, to set

  fire to the house in which its parents and brothers and sisters (beings

  whom it tenderly loves) are lying asleep. It would be under the same

  influence of momentary absence of thought--almost absence of mind--that

  a peasant boy of seventeen might catch sight of the edge of a

  newly-sharpened axe reposing near the bench on which his aged father was

  lying asleep, face downwards, and suddenly raise the implement in order

  to observe with unconscious curiosity how the blood would come spurting

  out upon the floor if he made a wound in the sleeper's neck. It is under

  the same influence--the same absence of thought, the same instinctive

  curiosity--that a man finds delight in standing on the brink of an abyss

  and thinking to himself, "How if I were to throw myself down?" or in

  holding to his brow a loaded pistol and wondering, "What if I were

  to pull the trig
ger?" or in feeling, when he catches sight of some

  universally respected personage, that he would like to go up to him,

  pull his nose hard, and say, "How do you do, old boy?"

  Under the spell, then, of this instinctive agitation and lack of

  reflection I was moved to put out my tongue, and to say that I would not

  move, when St. Jerome came down and told me that I had behaved so badly

  that day, as well as done my lessons so ill, that I had no right to be

  where I was, and must go upstairs directly.

  At first, from astonishment and anger, he could not utter a word.

  "C'est bien!" he exclaimed eventually as he darted towards me. "Several

  times have I promised to punish you, and you have been saved from it by

  your Grandmamma, but now I see that nothing but the cane will teach you

  obedience, and you shall therefore taste it."

  This was said loud enough for every one to hear. The blood rushed to

  my heart with such vehemence that I could feel that organ beating

  violently--could feel the colour rising to my cheeks and my lips

  trembling. Probably I looked horrible at that moment, for, avoiding

  my eye, St. Jerome stepped forward and caught me by the hand. Hardly

  feeling his touch, I pulled away my hand in blind fury, and with all my

  childish might struck him.

  "What are you doing?" said Woloda, who had seen my behaviour, and now

  approached me in alarm and astonishment.

  "Let me alone!" I exclaimed, the tears flowing fast. "Not a single one

  of you loves me or understands how miserable I am! You are all of you

  odious and disgusting!" I added bluntly, turning to the company at