nobody thought him a rogue. Even Aunt Dasha, who loathed him, came out and bowed to him in a stiff, unnatural way.
In the evening he invited guests and made a speech.
"All these procedures carried out by the authorities," he said, "are designed to safeguard the liberty of the revolution against the paupers, the absolute majority of whom consists of Jews. The paupers and the Bolsheviks are scheming a vile adventure, which is bound to jeopardise all the fruits of the existing regime. For us, champions of freedom, this tragedy is dealt with very simply. We are taking arms into our hands, and woe to him who, for the sake of gratifying his personal ambition, shall make an attempt upon the revolution and freedom! We have paid a high price for freedom. We will not surrender it cheaply. Such in general outline is the situation of the moment!"
Mother was very gay that evening. In her white velvet jacket, which became her so well, she moved round the guests with a bottle of wine and kept refilling each glass. Stepfather's friend, an amiable little fat man, who was also in the Death Battalion, stood up and respectfully proposed her health. He had laughed heartily during my stepfather's speech, but was now very grave. Raising his glass aloft, he clinked glasses with Mother and said briefly, "Hurrah!"
Everyone shouted "Hurrah". Mother was embarrassed. Slightly flushed, she stepped into the middle of the room and bowed low in the old-fashioned way.
"What a beauty!" the fat little man said aloud.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN JOURNEY'S END
It must have been some time past two; I had been asleep for quite a while and was awakened by a cry. Tobacco smoke hung motionless over the table; everyone had left long ago, and my stepfather lay asleep on the floor, his arms and legs spread wide. The cry was repeated. I recognised Aunt Dasha's voice and went to the window. A woman was lying in the yard and Aunt Dasha was blowing noisily into her mouth.
"Aunt Dasha!"
Not seeming to hear me, Aunt Dasha jumped up, ran round our house and knocked on the window.
"Water! Pyotr Ivanovich! Aksinya's lying out here!"
I opened the door. She came in and started to rouse my stepfather.
"Pyotr Ivanich! Oh, my God!" My stepfather did nothing but mumble.
"Aksinya-she must be carried in - she must have fallen in the yard and hurt herself. Pyotr Ivanich!"
My stepfather sat up with closed eyes, then lay down again. We couldn't wake him and had to give it up.
We spent the whole night trying to bring Mother round and she did not come to herself until dawn. It had been an ordinary fainting fit, but in falling she had struck her head on the stones. Unfortunately we learnt of this from the doctor only the following evening. The doctor ordered ice to be applied. But we all thought it odd to buy ice, and Aunt Dasha decided to apply a wet towel instead.
I remember Sanya running out into the yard to wet the towel in a bucket, and coming back wiping the tears away with the flat of her hand.
Mother lay still, as pale as she always was. Not once did she ask about my stepfather, who the next day had joined his battalion, but she would not let me or my sister out other sight. She was racked by fits of nausea and kept screwing up her eyes every minute as though trying to make something out.
This, for some reason, upset Aunt Dasha very much. She was laid up for three weeks and seemed to be on the mend. And then suddenly it "came over" her.
One morning I woke up towards daybreak to find her sitting on the bed, her bare feet lowered to the floor.
"Mum!"
She looked at me sullenly, and it dawned on me that she could not see me.
"Mum! Mamma!"
Still with the same intent, stern expression, she pushed my hands aside when I tried to get her back into bed.
From that day she stopped eating and the doctor ordered her to be fed forcibly with eggs and butter. It was excellent advice, but we had no money and there were neither eggs nor butter to be had in the town.
Aunt Dasha scolded her
In the evening he invited guests and made a speech.
"All these procedures carried out by the authorities," he said, "are designed to safeguard the liberty of the revolution against the paupers, the absolute majority of whom consists of Jews. The paupers and the Bolsheviks are scheming a vile adventure, which is bound to jeopardise all the fruits of the existing regime. For us, champions of freedom, this tragedy is dealt with very simply. We are taking arms into our hands, and woe to him who, for the sake of gratifying his personal ambition, shall make an attempt upon the revolution and freedom! We have paid a high price for freedom. We will not surrender it cheaply. Such in general outline is the situation of the moment!"
Mother was very gay that evening. In her white velvet jacket, which became her so well, she moved round the guests with a bottle of wine and kept refilling each glass. Stepfather's friend, an amiable little fat man, who was also in the Death Battalion, stood up and respectfully proposed her health. He had laughed heartily during my stepfather's speech, but was now very grave. Raising his glass aloft, he clinked glasses with Mother and said briefly, "Hurrah!"
Everyone shouted "Hurrah". Mother was embarrassed. Slightly flushed, she stepped into the middle of the room and bowed low in the old-fashioned way.
"What a beauty!" the fat little man said aloud.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN JOURNEY'S END
It must have been some time past two; I had been asleep for quite a while and was awakened by a cry. Tobacco smoke hung motionless over the table; everyone had left long ago, and my stepfather lay asleep on the floor, his arms and legs spread wide. The cry was repeated. I recognised Aunt Dasha's voice and went to the window. A woman was lying in the yard and Aunt Dasha was blowing noisily into her mouth.
"Aunt Dasha!"
Not seeming to hear me, Aunt Dasha jumped up, ran round our house and knocked on the window.
"Water! Pyotr Ivanovich! Aksinya's lying out here!"
I opened the door. She came in and started to rouse my stepfather.
"Pyotr Ivanich! Oh, my God!" My stepfather did nothing but mumble.
"Aksinya-she must be carried in - she must have fallen in the yard and hurt herself. Pyotr Ivanich!"
My stepfather sat up with closed eyes, then lay down again. We couldn't wake him and had to give it up.
We spent the whole night trying to bring Mother round and she did not come to herself until dawn. It had been an ordinary fainting fit, but in falling she had struck her head on the stones. Unfortunately we learnt of this from the doctor only the following evening. The doctor ordered ice to be applied. But we all thought it odd to buy ice, and Aunt Dasha decided to apply a wet towel instead.
I remember Sanya running out into the yard to wet the towel in a bucket, and coming back wiping the tears away with the flat of her hand.
Mother lay still, as pale as she always was. Not once did she ask about my stepfather, who the next day had joined his battalion, but she would not let me or my sister out other sight. She was racked by fits of nausea and kept screwing up her eyes every minute as though trying to make something out.
This, for some reason, upset Aunt Dasha very much. She was laid up for three weeks and seemed to be on the mend. And then suddenly it "came over" her.
One morning I woke up towards daybreak to find her sitting on the bed, her bare feet lowered to the floor.
"Mum!"
She looked at me sullenly, and it dawned on me that she could not see me.
"Mum! Mamma!"
Still with the same intent, stern expression, she pushed my hands aside when I tried to get her back into bed.
From that day she stopped eating and the doctor ordered her to be fed forcibly with eggs and butter. It was excellent advice, but we had no money and there were neither eggs nor butter to be had in the town.
Aunt Dasha scolded her
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