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  CHAPTER II

  For more than two weeks the visitor lived amid a round of eveningparties and dinners; wherefore he spent (as the saying goes) a verypleasant time. Finally he decided to extend his visits beyond the urbanboundaries by going and calling upon landowners Manilov and Sobakevitch,seeing that he had promised on his honour to do so. Yet what reallyincited him to this may have been a more essential cause, a matter ofgreater gravity, a purpose which stood nearer to his heart, than themotive which I have just given; and of that purpose the reader willlearn if only he will have the patience to read this prefatory narrative(which, lengthy though it be, may yet develop and expand in proportionas we approach the denouement with which the present work is destined tobe crowned).

  One evening, therefore, Selifan the coachman received orders to havethe horses harnessed in good time next morning; while Petrushkareceived orders to remain behind, for the purpose of looking after theportmanteau and the room. In passing, the reader may care to becomemore fully acquainted with the two serving-men of whom I have spoken.Naturally, they were not persons of much note, but merely what folk callcharacters of secondary, or even of tertiary, importance. Yet, despitethe fact that the springs and the thread of this romance will not DEPENDupon them, but only touch upon them, and occasionally include them,the author has a passion for circumstantiality, and, like the averageRussian, such a desire for accuracy as even a German could not rival.To what the reader already knows concerning the personages in hand it istherefore necessary to add that Petrushka usually wore a cast-off brownjacket of a size too large for him, as also that he had (according tothe custom of individuals of his calling) a pair of thick lips anda very prominent nose. In temperament he was taciturn rather thanloquacious, and he cherished a yearning for self-education. That is tosay, he loved to read books, even though their contents came alike tohim whether they were books of heroic adventure or mere grammars orliturgical compendia. As I say, he perused every book with an equalamount of attention, and, had he been offered a work on chemistry,would have accepted that also. Not the words which he read, but the meresolace derived from the act of reading, was what especially pleased hismind; even though at any moment there might launch itself from the pagesome devil-sent word whereof he could make neither head nor tail. Forthe most part, his task of reading was performed in a recumbent positionin the anteroom; which circumstance ended by causing his mattress tobecome as ragged and as thin as a wafer. In addition to his love ofporing over books, he could boast of two habits which constituted twoother essential features of his character--namely, a habit ofretiring to rest in his clothes (that is to say, in the brown jacketabove-mentioned) and a habit of everywhere bearing with him his ownpeculiar atmosphere, his own peculiar smell--a smell which filledany lodging with such subtlety that he needed but to make up his bedanywhere, even in a room hitherto untenanted, and to drag thither hisgreatcoat and other impedimenta, for that room at once to assume an airof having been lived in during the past ten years. Nevertheless, thougha fastidious, and even an irritable, man, Chichikov would merely frownwhen his nose caught this smell amid the freshness of the morning, andexclaim with a toss of his head: "The devil only knows what is up withyou! Surely you sweat a good deal, do you not? The best thing you can dois to go and take a bath." To this Petrushka would make no reply, but,approaching, brush in hand, the spot where his master's coat would bependent, or starting to arrange one and another article in order, wouldstrive to seem wholly immersed in his work. Yet of what was he thinkingas he remained thus silent? Perhaps he was saying to himself: "My masteris a good fellow, but for him to keep on saying the same thing fortytimes over is a little wearisome." Only God knows and sees all things;wherefore for a mere human being to know what is in the mind of aservant while his master is scolding him is wholly impossible. However,no more need be said about Petrushka. On the other hand, CoachmanSelifan--

  But here let me remark that I do not like engaging the reader'sattention in connection with persons of a lower class than himself; forexperience has taught me that we do not willingly familiarise ourselveswith the lower orders--that it is the custom of the average Russian toyearn exclusively for information concerning persons on the higher rungsof the social ladder. In fact, even a bowing acquaintance with a princeor a lord counts, in his eyes, for more than do the most intimate ofrelations with ordinary folk. For the same reason the author feelsapprehensive on his hero's account, seeing that he has made that heroa mere Collegiate Councillor--a mere person with whom Aulic Councillorsmight consort, but upon whom persons of the grade of full General[8] would probably bestow one of those glances proper to a man who iscringing at their august feet. Worse still, such persons of the grade ofGeneral are likely to treat Chichikov with studied negligence--and to anauthor studied negligence spells death.

  However, in spite of the distressfulness of the foregoing possibilities,it is time that I returned to my hero. After issuing, overnight, thenecessary orders, he awoke early, washed himself, rubbed himselffrom head to foot with a wet sponge (a performance executed only onSundays--and the day in question happened to be a Sunday), shaved hisface with such care that his cheeks issued of absolutely satin-likesmoothness and polish, donned first his bilberry-coloured, spottedfrockcoat, and then his bearskin overcoat, descended the staircase(attended, throughout, by the waiter) and entered his britchka. With aloud rattle the vehicle left the inn-yard, and issued into the street.A passing priest doffed his cap, and a few urchins in grimy shirtsshouted, "Gentleman, please give a poor orphan a trifle!" Presently thedriver noticed that a sturdy young rascal was on the point of climbingonto the splashboard; wherefore he cracked his whip and the britchkaleapt forward with increased speed over the cobblestones. At last, witha feeling of relief, the travellers caught sight of macadam ahead, whichpromised an end both to the cobblestones and to sundry other annoyances.And, sure enough, after his head had been bumped a few more timesagainst the boot of the conveyance, Chichikov found himself bowling oversofter ground. On the town receding into the distance, the sides of theroad began to be varied with the usual hillocks, fir trees, clumps ofyoung pine, trees with old, scarred trunks, bushes of wild juniper, andso forth. Presently there came into view also strings of country villaswhich, with their carved supports and grey roofs (the latter lookinglike pendent, embroidered tablecloths), resembled, rather, bundlesof old faggots. Likewise the customary peasants, dressed in sheepskinjackets, could be seen yawning on benches before their huts, whiletheir womenfolk, fat of feature and swathed of bosom, gazed out of upperwindows, and the windows below displayed, here a peering calf, and therethe unsightly jaws of a pig. In short, the view was one of the familiartype. After passing the fifteenth verst-stone Chichikov suddenlyrecollected that, according to Manilov, fifteen versts was the exactdistance between his country house and the town; but the sixteenth verststone flew by, and the said country house was still nowhere to beseen. In fact, but for the circumstance that the travellers happened toencounter a couple of peasants, they would have come on their errand invain. To a query as to whether the country house known as Zamanilovkawas anywhere in the neighbourhood the peasants replied by doffing theircaps; after which one of them who seemed to boast of a little moreintelligence than his companion, and who wore a wedge-shaped beard, madeanswer:

  "Perhaps you mean Manilovka--not ZAmanilovka?"

  "Yes, yes--Manilovka."

  "Manilovka, eh? Well, you must continue for another verst, and then youwill see it straight before you, on the right."

  "On the right?" re-echoed the coachman.

  "Yes, on the right," affirmed the peasant. "You are on the proper roadfor Manilovka, but ZAmanilovka--well, there is no such place. The houseyou mean is called Manilovka because Manilovka is its name; but no houseat all is called ZAmanilovka. The house you mean stands there, on thathill, and is a stone house in which a gentleman lives, and its nameis Manilovka; but ZAmanilovka does not stand hereabouts, nor ever hasstood."

  So the travellers proceeded in search of Manilovka
, and, after drivingan additional two versts, arrived at a spot whence there branched off aby-road. Yet two, three, or four versts of the by-road had been coveredbefore they saw the least sign of a two-storied stone mansion. Then itwas that Chichikov suddenly recollected that, when a friend has invitedone to visit his country house, and has said that the distance theretois fifteen versts, the distance is sure to turn out to be at leastthirty.

  Not many people would have admired the situation of Manilov's abode, forit stood on an isolated rise and was open to every wind that blew. Onthe slope of the rise lay closely-mown turf, while, disposed here andthere, after the English fashion, were flower-beds containing clumps oflilac and yellow acacia. Also, there were a few insignificant groupsof slender-leaved, pointed-tipped birch trees, with, under two of thelatter, an arbour having a shabby green cupola, some blue-painted woodensupports, and the inscription "This is the Temple of Solitary Thought."Lower down the slope lay a green-coated pond--green-coated pondsconstitute a frequent spectacle in the gardens of Russian landowners;and, lastly, from the foot of the declivity there stretched a line ofmouldy, log-built huts which, for some obscure reason or another, ourhero set himself to count. Up to two hundred or more did he count, butnowhere could he perceive a single leaf of vegetation or a single stickof timber. The only thing to greet the eye was the logs of which thehuts were constructed. Nevertheless the scene was to a certain extentenlivened by the spectacle of two peasant women who, with clothespicturesquely tucked up, were wading knee-deep in the pond and draggingbehind them, with wooden handles, a ragged fishing-net, in the meshesof which two crawfish and a roach with glistening scales were entangled.The women appeared to have cause of dispute between themselves--to berating one another about something. In the background, and to one sideof the house, showed a faint, dusky blur of pinewood, and even theweather was in keeping with the surroundings, since the day was neitherclear nor dull, but of the grey tint which may be noted in uniforms ofgarrison soldiers which have seen long service. To complete the picture,a cock, the recognised harbinger of atmospheric mutations, was present;and, in spite of the fact that a certain connection with affairs ofgallantry had led to his having had his head pecked bare by othercocks, he flapped a pair of wings--appendages as bare as two pieces ofbast--and crowed loudly.

  As Chichikov approached the courtyard of the mansion he caught sightof his host (clad in a green frock coat) standing on the verandah andpressing one hand to his eyes to shield them from the sun and so get abetter view of the approaching carriage. In proportion as the britchkadrew nearer and nearer to the verandah, the host's eyes assumed a moreand more delighted expression, and his smile a broader and broadersweep.

  "Paul Ivanovitch!" he exclaimed when at length Chichikov leapt from thevehicle. "Never should I have believed that you would have rememberedus!"

  The two friends exchanged hearty embraces, and Manilov then conductedhis guest to the drawing-room. During the brief time that they aretraversing the hall, the anteroom, and the dining-room, let me tryto say something concerning the master of the house. But such anundertaking bristles with difficulties--it promises to be a far lesseasy task than the depicting of some outstanding personality which callsbut for a wholesale dashing of colours upon the canvas--the colours ofa pair of dark, burning eyes, a pair of dark, beetling brows, a foreheadseamed with wrinkles, a black, or a fiery-red, cloak thrown backwardsover the shoulder, and so forth, and so forth. Yet, so numerous areRussian serf owners that, though careful scrutiny reveals to one's sighta quantity of outre peculiarities, they are, as a class, exceedinglydifficult to portray, and one needs to strain one's faculties to theutmost before it becomes possible to pick out their variously subtle,their almost invisible, features. In short, one needs, before doingthis, to carry out a prolonged probing with the aid of an insightsharpened in the acute school of research.

  Only God can say what Manilov's real character was. A class of menexists whom the proverb has described as "men unto themselves, neitherthis nor that--neither Bogdan of the city nor Selifan of the village."And to that class we had better assign also Manilov. Outwardly he waspresentable enough, for his features were not wanting in amiability, butthat amiability was a quality into which there entered too much of thesugary element, so that his every gesture, his every attitude, seemedto connote an excess of eagerness to curry favour and cultivate a closeracquaintance. On first speaking to the man, his ingratiating smile, hisflaxen hair, and his blue eyes would lead one to say, "What a pleasant,good-tempered fellow he seems!" yet during the next moment or two onewould feel inclined to say nothing at all, and, during the third moment,only to say, "The devil alone knows what he is!" And should, thereafter,one not hasten to depart, one would inevitably become overpowered withthe deadly sense of ennui which comes of the intuition that nothingin the least interesting is to be looked for, but only a series ofwearisome utterances of the kind which are apt to fall from the lipsof a man whose hobby has once been touched upon. For every man HAS hishobby. One man's may be sporting dogs; another man's may be that ofbelieving himself to be a lover of music, and able to sound the art toits inmost depths; another's may be that of posing as a connoisseur ofrecherche cookery; another's may be that of aspiring to play roles ofa kind higher than nature has assigned him; another's (though this isa more limited ambition) may be that of getting drunk, and of dreamingthat he is edifying both his friends, his acquaintances, and people withwhom he has no connection at all by walking arm-in-arm with an Imperialaide-de-camp; another's may be that of possessing a hand able to chipcorners off aces and deuces of diamonds; another's may be that ofyearning to set things straight--in other words, to approximate hispersonality to that of a stationmaster or a director of posts. In short,almost every man has his hobby or his leaning; yet Manilov had nonesuch, for at home he spoke little, and spent the greater part ofhis time in meditation--though God only knows what that meditationcomprised! Nor can it be said that he took much interest in themanagement of his estate, for he never rode into the country, and theestate practically managed itself. Whenever the bailiff said to him, "Itmight be well to have such-and-such a thing done," he would reply, "Yes,that is not a bad idea," and then go on smoking his pipe--a habit whichhe had acquired during his service in the army, where he had been lookedupon as an officer of modesty, delicacy, and refinement. "Yes, it is NOTa bad idea," he would repeat. Again, whenever a peasant approached himand, rubbing the back of his neck, said "Barin, may I have leave to goand work for myself, in order that I may earn my obrok [9]?" he wouldsnap out, with pipe in mouth as usual, "Yes, go!" and never trouble hishead as to whether the peasant's real object might not be to go and getdrunk. True, at intervals he would say, while gazing from the verandahto the courtyard, and from the courtyard to the pond, that it would beindeed splendid if a carriage drive could suddenly materialise, and thepond as suddenly become spanned with a stone bridge, and little shopsas suddenly arise whence pedlars could dispense the petty merchandise ofthe kind which peasantry most need. And at such moments his eyeswould grow winning, and his features assume an expression of intensesatisfaction. Yet never did these projects pass beyond the stage ofdebate. Likewise there lay in his study a book with the fourteenth pagepermanently turned down. It was a book which he had been reading forthe past two years! In general, something seemed to be wanting in theestablishment. For instance, although the drawing-room was filled withbeautiful furniture, and upholstered in some fine silken material whichclearly had cost no inconsiderable sum, two of the chairs lackedany covering but bast, and for some years past the master had beenaccustomed to warn his guests with the words, "Do not sit upon thesechairs; they are not yet ready for use." Another room contained nofurniture at all, although, a few days after the marriage, it had beensaid: "My dear, to-morrow let us set about procuring at least someTEMPORARY furniture for this room." Also, every evening would see placedupon the drawing-room table a fine bronze candelabrum, a statuetterepresentative of the Three Graces, a tray inlaid with mother-of-pearl,and a rickety, lop-sid
ed copper invalide. Yet of the fact that all fourarticles were thickly coated with grease neither the master of thehouse nor the mistress nor the servants seemed to entertain the leastsuspicion. At the same time, Manilov and his wife were quite satisfiedwith each other. More than eight years had elapsed since their marriage,yet one of them was for ever offering his or her partner a piece ofapple or a bonbon or a nut, while murmuring some tender something whichvoiced a whole-hearted affection. "Open your mouth, dearest"--thus ranthe formula--"and let me pop into it this titbit." You may be sure thaton such occasions the "dearest mouth" parted its lips most graciously!For their mutual birthdays the pair always contrived some "surprisepresent" in the shape of a glass receptacle for tooth-powder, or whatnot; and as they sat together on the sofa he would suddenly, and forsome unknown reason, lay aside his pipe, and she her work (if at themoment she happened to be holding it in her hands) and husband and wifewould imprint upon one another's cheeks such a prolonged and languishingkiss that during its continuance you could have smoked a small cigar. Inshort, they were what is known as "a very happy couple." Yet it may beremarked that a household requires other pursuits to be engaged in thanlengthy embracings and the preparing of cunning "surprises." Yes, manya function calls for fulfilment. For instance, why should it be thoughtfoolish or low to superintend the kitchen? Why should care not be takenthat the storeroom never lacks supplies? Why should a housekeeper beallowed to thieve? Why should slovenly and drunken servants exist?Why should a domestic staff be suffered in indulge in bouts ofunconscionable debauchery during its leisure time? Yet none of thesethings were thought worthy of consideration by Manilov's wife, for shehad been gently brought up, and gentle nurture, as we all know, is tobe acquired only in boarding schools, and boarding schools, as we know,hold the three principal subjects which constitute the basis of humanvirtue to be the French language (a thing indispensable to the happinessof married life), piano-playing (a thing wherewith to beguilea husband's leisure moments), and that particular department ofhousewifery which is comprised in the knitting of purses and other"surprises." Nevertheless changes and improvements have begun to takeplace, since things now are governed more by the personal inclinationsand idiosyncracies of the keepers of such establishments. For instance,in some seminaries the regimen places piano-playing first, and theFrench language second, and then the above department of housewifery;while in other seminaries the knitting of "surprises" heads the list,and then the French language, and then the playing of pianos--so diverseare the systems in force! None the less, I may remark that MadameManilov--

  But let me confess that I always shrink from saying too much aboutladies. Moreover, it is time that we returned to our heroes, who, duringthe past few minutes, have been standing in front of the drawing-roomdoor, and engaged in urging one another to enter first.

  "Pray be so good as not to inconvenience yourself on my account," saidChichikov. "_I_ will follow YOU."

  "No, Paul Ivanovitch--no! You are my guest." And Manilov pointed towardsthe doorway.

  "Make no difficulty about it, I pray," urged Chichikov. "I beg of you tomake no difficulty about it, but to pass into the room."

  "Pardon me, I will not. Never could I allow so distinguished and sowelcome a guest as yourself to take second place."

  "Why call me 'distinguished,' my dear sir? I beg of you to proceed."

  "Nay; be YOU pleased to do so."

  "And why?"

  "For the reason which I have stated." And Manilov smiled his verypleasantest smile.

  Finally the pair entered simultaneously and sideways; with the resultthat they jostled one another not a little in the process.

  "Allow me to present to you my wife," continued Manilov. "My dear--PaulIvanovitch."

  Upon that Chichikov caught sight of a lady whom hitherto he hadoverlooked, but who, with Manilov, was now bowing to him in the doorway.Not wholly of unpleasing exterior, she was dressed in a well-fitting,high-necked morning dress of pale-coloured silk; and as the visitorentered the room her small white hands threw something upon the tableand clutched her embroidered skirt before rising from the sofa where shehad been seated. Not without a sense of pleasure did Chichikov take herhand as, lisping a little, she declared that she and her husband wereequally gratified by his coming, and that, of late, not a day had passedwithout her husband recalling him to mind.

  "Yes," affirmed Manilov; "and every day SHE has said to ME: 'Why doesnot your friend put in an appearance?' 'Wait a little dearest,' I havealways replied. ''Twill not be long now before he comes.' And you HAVEcome, you HAVE honoured us with a visit, you HAVE bestowed upon us atreat--a treat destined to convert this day into a gala day, a truebirthday of the heart."

  The intimation that matters had reached the point of the occasion beingdestined to constitute a "true birthday of the heart" caused Chichikovto become a little confused; wherefore he made modest reply that, as amatter of fact, he was neither of distinguished origin nor distinguishedrank.

  "Ah, you ARE so," interrupted Manilov with his fixed and engaging smile."You are all that, and more."

  "How like you our town?" queried Madame. "Have you spent an agreeabletime in it?"

  "Very," replied Chichikov. "The town is an exceedingly nice one, and Ihave greatly enjoyed its hospitable society."

  "And what do you think of our Governor?"

  "Yes; IS he not a most engaging and dignified personage?" added Manilov.

  "He is all that," assented Chichikov. "Indeed, he is a man worthy of thegreatest respect. And how thoroughly he performs his duty according tohis lights! Would that we had more like him!"

  "And the tactfulness with which he greets every one!" added Manilov,smiling, and half-closing his eyes, like a cat which is being tickledbehind the ears.

  "Quite so," assented Chichikov. "He is a man of the most eminentcivility and approachableness. And what an artist! Never should I havethought he could have worked the marvellous household samplers which hehas done! Some specimens of his needlework which he showed me could notwell have been surpassed by any lady in the land!"

  "And the Vice-Governor, too--he is a nice man, is he not?" inquiredManilov with renewed blinkings of the eyes.

  "Who? The Vice-Governor? Yes, a most worthy fellow!" replied Chichikov.

  "And what of the Chief of Police? Is it not a fact that he too is in thehighest degree agreeable?"

  "Very agreeable indeed. And what a clever, well-read individual! Withhim and the Public Prosecutor and the President of the Local Council Iplayed whist until the cocks uttered their last morning crow. He is amost excellent fellow."

  "And what of his wife?" queried Madame Manilov. "Is she not a mostgracious personality?"

  "One of the best among my limited acquaintance," agreed Chichikov.

  Nor were the President of the Local Council and the Postmasteroverlooked; until the company had run through the whole list of urbanofficials. And in every case those officials appeared to be persons ofthe highest possible merit.

  "Do you devote your time entirely to your estate?" asked Chichikov, inhis turn.

  "Well, most of it," replied Manilov; "though also we pay occasionalvisits to the town, in order that we may mingle with a little well-bredsociety. One grows a trifle rusty if one lives for ever in retirement."

  "Quite so," agreed Chichikov.

  "Yes, quite so," capped Manilov. "At the same time, it would be adifferent matter if the neighbourhood were a GOOD one--if, for example,one had a friend with whom one could discuss manners and politedeportment, or engage in some branch of science, and so stimulate one'swits. For that sort of thing gives one's intellect an airing. It, it--"At a loss for further words, he ended by remarking that his feelingswere apt to carry him away; after which he continued with a gesture:"What I mean is that, were that sort of thing possible, I, forone, could find the country and an isolated life possessed of greatattractions. But, as matters stand, such a thing is NOT possible. Allthat I can manage to do is, occasionally, to read a little of A Son ofthe Fatherland
."

  With these sentiments Chichikov expressed entire agreement: adding thatnothing could be more delightful than to lead a solitary life in whichthere should be comprised only the sweet contemplation of nature and theintermittent perusal of a book.

  "Nay, but even THAT were worth nothing had not one a friend with whom toshare one's life," remarked Manilov.

  "True, true," agreed Chichikov. "Without a friend, what are all thetreasures in the world? 'Possess not money,' a wise man has said, 'butrather good friends to whom to turn in case of need.'"

  "Yes, Paul Ivanovitch," said Manilov with a glance not merely sweet,but positively luscious--a glance akin to the mixture which even cleverphysicians have to render palatable before they can induce a hesitantpatient to take it. "Consequently you may imagine what happiness--whatPERFECT happiness, so to speak--the present occasion has brought me,seeing that I am permitted to converse with you and to enjoy yourconversation."

  "But WHAT of my conversation?" replied Chichikov. "I am an insignificantindividual, and, beyond that, nothing."

  "Oh, Paul Ivanovitch!" cried the other. "Permit me to be frank, and tosay that I would give half my property to possess even a PORTION of thetalents which you possess."

  "On the contrary, I should consider it the highest honour in the worldif--"

  The lengths to which this mutual outpouring of soul would have proceededhad not a servant entered to announce luncheon must remain a mystery.

  "I humbly invite you to join us at table," said Manilov. "Also, you willpardon us for the fact that we cannot provide a banquet such as is tobe obtained in our metropolitan cities? We partake of simple fare,according to Russian custom--we confine ourselves to shtchi [10], but wedo so with a single heart. Come, I humbly beg of you."

  After another contest for the honour of yielding precedence, Chichikovsucceeded in making his way (in zigzag fashion) to the dining-room,where they found awaiting them a couple of youngsters. These wereManilov's sons, and boys of the age which admits of their presence attable, but necessitates the continued use of high chairs. Beside themwas their tutor, who bowed politely and smiled; after which the hostesstook her seat before her soup plate, and the guest of honour foundhimself esconsed between her and the master of the house, while theservant tied up the boys' necks in bibs.

  "What charming children!" said Chichikov as he gazed at the pair. "Andhow old are they?"

  "The eldest is eight," replied Manilov, "and the younger one attainedthe age of six yesterday."

  "Themistocleus," went on the father, turning to his first-born, who wasengaged in striving to free his chin from the bib with which the footmanhad encircled it. On hearing this distinctly Greek name (to which, forsome unknown reason, Manilov always appended the termination "eus"),Chichikov raised his eyebrows a little, but hastened, the next moment,to restore his face to a more befitting expression.

  "Themistocleus," repeated the father, "tell me which is the finest cityin France."

  Upon this the tutor concentrated his attention upon Themistocleus, andappeared to be trying hard to catch his eye. Only when Themistocleus hadmuttered "Paris" did the preceptor grow calmer, and nod his head.

  "And which is the finest city in Russia?" continued Manilov.

  Again the tutor's attitude became wholly one of concentration.

  "St. Petersburg," replied Themistocleus.

  "And what other city?"

  "Moscow," responded the boy.

  "Clever little dear!" burst out Chichikov, turning with an air ofsurprise to the father. "Indeed, I feel bound to say that the childevinces the greatest possible potentialities."

  "You do not know him fully," replied the delighted Manilov. "The amountof sharpness which he possesses is extraordinary. Our younger one,Alkid, is not so quick; whereas his brother--well, no matter what hemay happen upon (whether upon a cowbug or upon a water-beetle or uponanything else), his little eyes begin jumping out of his head, and heruns to catch the thing, and to inspect it. For HIM I am reserving adiplomatic post. Themistocleus," added the father, again turning to hisson, "do you wish to become an ambassador?"

  "Yes, I do," replied Themistocleus, chewing a piece of bread and wagginghis head from side to side.

  At this moment the lacquey who had been standing behind the futureambassador wiped the latter's nose; and well it was that he did so,since otherwise an inelegant and superfluous drop would have been addedto the soup. After that the conversation turned upon the joys of a quietlife--though occasionally it was interrupted by remarks from the hostesson the subject of acting and actors. Meanwhile the tutor kept his eyesfixed upon the speakers' faces; and whenever he noticed that they wereon the point of laughing he at once opened his mouth, and laughed withenthusiasm. Probably he was a man of grateful heart who wished torepay his employers for the good treatment which he had received. Once,however, his features assumed a look of grimness as, fixing his eyesupon his vis-a-vis, the boys, he tapped sternly upon the table. Thishappened at a juncture when Themistocleus had bitten Alkid on the ear,and the said Alkid, with frowning eyes and open mouth, was preparinghimself to sob in piteous fashion; until, recognising that for such aproceeding he might possibly be deprived of his plate, he hastened torestore his mouth to its original expression, and fell tearfully tognawing a mutton bone--the grease from which had soon covered hischeeks.

  Every now and again the hostess would turn to Chichikov with the words,"You are eating nothing--you have indeed taken little;" but invariablyher guest replied: "Thank you, I have had more than enough. A pleasantconversation is worth all the dishes in the world."

  At length the company rose from table. Manilov was in high spirits,and, laying his hand upon his guest's shoulder, was on the point ofconducting him to the drawing-room, when suddenly Chichikov intimatedto him, with a meaning look, that he wished to speak to him on a veryimportant matter.

  "That being so," said Manilov, "allow me to invite you into my study."And he led the way to a small room which faced the blue of the forest."This is my sanctum," he added.

  "What a pleasant apartment!" remarked Chichikov as he eyed it carefully.And, indeed, the room did not lack a certain attractiveness. The wallswere painted a sort of blueish-grey colour, and the furniture consistedof four chairs, a settee, and a table--the latter of which bore a fewsheets of writing-paper and the book of which I have before had occasionto speak. But the most prominent feature of the room was tobacco, whichappeared in many different guises--in packets, in a tobacco jar, and ina loose heap strewn about the table. Likewise, both window sills werestudded with little heaps of ash, arranged, not without artifice, inrows of more or less tidiness. Clearly smoking afforded the master ofthe house a frequent means of passing the time.

  "Permit me to offer you a seat on this settee," said Manilov. "Here youwill be quieter than you would be in the drawing-room."

  "But I should prefer to sit upon this chair."

  "I cannot allow that," objected the smiling Manilov. "The settee isspecially reserved for my guests. Whether you choose or no, upon it youMUST sit."

  Accordingly Chichikov obeyed.

  "And also let me hand you a pipe."

  "No, I never smoke," answered Chichikov civilly, and with an assumed airof regret.

  "And why?" inquired Manilov--equally civilly, but with a regret that waswholly genuine.

  "Because I fear that I have never quite formed the habit, owing tomy having heard that a pipe exercises a desiccating effect upon thesystem."

  "Then allow me to tell you that that is mere prejudice. Nay, I wouldeven go so far as to say that to smoke a pipe is a healthier practicethan to take snuff. Among its members our regiment numbered alieutenant--a most excellent, well-educated fellow--who was simplyINCAPABLE of removing his pipe from his mouth, whether at table or(pardon me) in other places. He is now forty, yet no man could enjoybetter health than he has always done."

  Chichikov replied that such cases were common, since nature comprisedmany things which even the finest intellect could not co
mpass.

  "But allow me to put to you a question," he went on in a tone in whichthere was a strange--or, at all events, RATHER a strange--note. For someunknown reason, also, he glanced over his shoulder. For some equallyunknown reason, Manilov glanced over HIS.

  "How long is it," inquired the guest, "since you last rendered a censusreturn?"

  "Oh, a long, long time. In fact, I cannot remember when it was."

  "And since then have many of your serfs died?"

  "I do not know. To ascertain that I should need to ask my bailiff.Footman, go and call the bailiff. I think he will be at home to-day."

  Before long the bailiff made his appearance. He was a man of underforty, clean-shaven, clad in a smock, and evidently used to a quietlife, seeing that his face was of that puffy fullness, and the skinencircling his slit-like eyes was of that sallow tint, which shows thatthe owner of those features is well acquainted with a feather bed. In atrice it could be seen that he had played his part in life as all suchbailiffs do--that, originally a young serf of elementary education, hehad married some Agashka of a housekeeper or a mistress's favourite, andthen himself become housekeeper, and, subsequently, bailiff; after whichhe had proceeded according to the rules of his tribe--that is to say,he had consorted with and stood in with the more well-to-do serfs on theestate, and added the poorer ones to the list of forced payers of obrok,while himself leaving his bed at nine o'clock in the morning, and, whenthe samovar had been brought, drinking his tea at leisure.

  "Look here, my good man," said Manilov. "How many of our serfs have diedsince the last census revision?"

  "How many of them have died? Why, a great many." The bailiff hiccoughed,and slapped his mouth lightly after doing so.

  "Yes, I imagined that to be the case," corroborated Manilov. "In fact,a VERY great many serfs have died." He turned to Chichikov and repeatedthe words.

  "How many, for instance?" asked Chichikov.

  "Yes; how many?" re-echoed Manilov.

  "HOW many?" re-echoed the bailiff. "Well, no one knows the exact number,for no one has kept any account."

  "Quite so," remarked Manilov. "I supposed the death-rate to have beenhigh, but was ignorant of its precise extent."

  "Then would you be so good as to have it computed for me?" saidChichikov. "And also to have a detailed list of the deaths made out?"

  "Yes, I will--a detailed list," agreed Manilov.

  "Very well."

  The bailiff departed.

  "For what purpose do you want it?" inquired Manilov when the bailiff hadgone.

  The question seemed to embarrass the guest, for in Chichikov's facethere dawned a sort of tense expression, and it reddened as though itsowner were striving to express something not easy to put into words.True enough, Manilov was now destined to hear such strange andunexpected things as never before had greeted human ears.

  "You ask me," said Chichikov, "for what purpose I want the list. Well,my purpose in wanting it is this--that I desire to purchase a fewpeasants." And he broke off in a gulp.

  "But may I ask HOW you desire to purchase those peasants?" askedManilov. "With land, or merely as souls for transferment--that is tosay, by themselves, and without any land?"

  "I want the peasants themselves only," replied Chichikov. "And I wantdead ones at that."

  "What?--Excuse me, but I am a trifle deaf. Really, your words sound moststrange!"

  "All that I am proposing to do," replied Chichikov, "is to purchase thedead peasants who, at the last census, were returned by you as alive."

  Manilov dropped his pipe on the floor, and sat gaping. Yes, the twofriends who had just been discussing the joys of camaraderie satstaring at one another like the portraits which, of old, used to hang onopposite sides of a mirror. At length Manilov picked up his pipe, and,while doing so, glanced covertly at Chichikov to see whether there wasany trace of a smile to be detected on his lips--whether, in short, hewas joking. But nothing of the sort could be discerned. On the contrary,Chichikov's face looked graver than usual. Next, Manilov wonderedwhether, for some unknown reason, his guest had lost his wits; whereforehe spent some time in gazing at him with anxious intentness. But theguest's eyes seemed clear--they contained no spark of the wild, restlessfire which is apt to wander in the eyes of madmen. All was as it shouldbe. Consequently, in spite of Manilov's cogitations, he could thinkof nothing better to do than to sit letting a stream of tobacco smokeescape from his mouth.

  "So," continued Chichikov, "what I desire to know is whether you arewilling to hand over to me--to resign--these actually non-living, butlegally living, peasants; or whether you have any better proposal tomake?"

  Manilov felt too confused and confounded to do aught but continuestaring at his interlocutor.

  "I think that you are disturbing yourself unnecessarily," wasChichikov's next remark.

  "I? Oh no! Not at all!" stammered Manilov. "Only--pardon me--I do notquite comprehend you. You see, never has it fallen to my lot to acquirethe brilliant polish which is, so to speak, manifest in your everymovement. Nor have I ever been able to attain the art of expressingmyself well. Consequently, although there is a possibility that inthe--er--utterances which have just fallen from your lips there maylie something else concealed, it may equally be that--er--you have beenpleased so to express yourself for the sake of the beauty of the termswherein that expression found shape?"

  "Oh, no," asserted Chichikov. "I mean what I say and no more. Myreference to such of your pleasant souls as are dead was intended to betaken literally."

  Manilov still felt at a loss--though he was conscious that he MUST dosomething, he MUST propound some question. But what question? The devilalone knew! In the end he merely expelled some more tobacco smoke--thistime from his nostrils as well as from his mouth.

  "So," went on Chichikov, "if no obstacle stands in the way, we might aswell proceed to the completion of the purchase."

  "What? Of the purchase of the dead souls?"

  "Of the 'dead' souls? Oh dear no! Let us write them down as LIVING ones,seeing that that is how they figure in the census returns. Never do Ipermit myself to step outside the civil law, great though has beenthe harm which that rule has wrought me in my career. In my eyes anobligation is a sacred thing. In the presence of the law I am dumb."

  These last words reassured Manilov not a little: yet still the meaningof the affair remained to him a mystery. By way of answer, he fell tosucking at his pipe with such vehemence that at length the pipe beganto gurgle like a bassoon. It was as though he had been seeking ofit inspiration in the present unheard-of juncture. But the pipe onlygurgled, et praeterea nihil.

  "Perhaps you feel doubtful about the proposal?" said Chichikov.

  "Not at all," replied Manilov. "But you will, I know, excuse me if Isay (and I say it out of no spirit of prejudice, nor yet as criticisingyourself in any way)--you will, I know, excuse me if I say that possiblythis--er--this, er, SCHEME of yours, this--er--TRANSACTION of yours, mayfail altogether to accord with the Civil Statutes and Provisions of theRealm?"

  And Manilov, with a slight gesture of the head, looked meaningly intoChichikov's face, while displaying in his every feature, includinghis closely-compressed lips, such an expression of profundity asnever before was seen on any human countenance--unless on that of someparticularly sapient Minister of State who is debating some particularlyabstruse problem.

  Nevertheless Chichikov rejoined that the kind of scheme or transactionwhich he had adumbrated in no way clashed with the Civil Statutes andProvisions of Russia; to which he added that the Treasury would evenBENEFIT by the enterprise, seeing it would draw therefrom the usuallegal percentage.

  "What, then, do you propose?" asked Manilov.

  "I propose only what is above-board, and nothing else."

  "Then, that being so, it is another matter, and I have nothing to urgeagainst it," said Manilov, apparently reassured to the full.

  "Very well," remarked Chichikov. "Then we need only to agree as to theprice."

  "As t
o the price?" began Manilov, and then stopped. Presently he wenton: "Surely you cannot suppose me capable of taking money for soulswhich, in one sense at least, have completed their existence? Seeingthat this fantastic whim of yours (if I may so call it?) has seizedupon you to the extent that it has, I, on my side, shall be ready tosurrender to you those souls UNCONDITIONALLY, and to charge myself withthe whole expenses of the sale."

  I should be greatly to blame if I were to omit that, as soon as Manilovhad pronounced these words, the face of his guest became replete withsatisfaction. Indeed, grave and prudent a man though Chichikov was,he had much ado to refrain from executing a leap that would have donecredit to a goat (an animal which, as we all know, finds itself movedto such exertions only during moments of the most ecstatic joy).Nevertheless the guest did at least execute such a convulsive shufflethat the material with which the cushions of the chair were covered cameapart, and Manilov gazed at him with some misgiving. Finally Chichikov'sgratitude led him to plunge into a stream of acknowledgement of avehemence which caused his host to grow confused, to blush, to shakehis head in deprecation, and to end by declaring that the concession wasnothing, and that, his one desire being to manifest the dictates ofhis heart and the psychic magnetism which his friend exercised, he, inshort, looked upon the dead souls as so much worthless rubbish.

  "Not at all," replied Chichikov, pressing his hand; after whichhe heaved a profound sigh. Indeed, he seemed in the right mood foroutpourings of the heart, for he continued--not without a ring ofemotion in his tone: "If you but knew the service which you haverendered to an apparently insignificant individual who is devoid bothof family and kindred! For what have I not suffered in my time--I, adrifting barque amid the tempestuous billows of life? What harryings,what persecutions, have I not known? Of what grief have I not tasted?And why? Simply because I have ever kept the truth in view, because everI have preserved inviolate an unsullied conscience, because ever I havestretched out a helping hand to the defenceless widow and the haplessorphan!" After which outpouring Chichikov pulled out his handkerchief,and wiped away a brimming tear.

  Manilov's heart was moved to the core. Again and again did the twofriends press one another's hands in silence as they gazed into oneanother's tear-filled eyes. Indeed, Manilov COULD not let go our hero'shand, but clasped it with such warmth that the hero in question beganto feel himself at a loss how best to wrench it free: until, quietlywithdrawing it, he observed that to have the purchase completed asspeedily as possible would not be a bad thing; wherefore he himselfwould at once return to the town to arrange matters. Taking up his hat,therefore, he rose to make his adieus.

  "What? Are you departing already?" said Manilov, suddenly recoveringhimself, and experiencing a sense of misgiving. At that moment his wifesailed into the room.

  "Is Paul Ivanovitch leaving us so soon, dearest Lizanka?" she said withan air of regret.

  "Yes. Surely it must be that we have wearied him?" her spouse replied.

  "By no means," asserted Chichikov, pressing his hand to his heart. "Inthis breast, madam, will abide for ever the pleasant memory of the timewhich I have spent with you. Believe me, I could conceive of no greaterblessing than to reside, if not under the same roof as yourselves, atall events in your immediate neighbourhood."

  "Indeed!" exclaimed Manilov, greatly pleased with the idea. "Howsplendid it would be if you DID come to reside under our roof, so thatwe could recline under an elm tree together, and talk philosophy, anddelve to the very root of things!"

  "Yes, it WOULD be a paradisaical existence!" agreed Chichikov with asigh. Nevertheless he shook hands with Madame. "Farewell, sudarina," hesaid. "And farewell to YOU, my esteemed host. Do not forget what I haverequested you to do."

  "Rest assured that I will not," responded Manilov. "Only for a couple ofdays will you and I be parted from one another."

  With that the party moved into the drawing-room.

  "Farewell, dearest children," Chichikov went on as he caught sight ofAlkid and Themistocleus, who were playing with a wooden hussar whichlacked both a nose and one arm. "Farewell, dearest pets. Pardon me forhaving brought you no presents, but, to tell you the truth, I was not,until my visit, aware of your existence. However, now that I shall becoming again, I will not fail to bring you gifts. Themistocleus, to youI will bring a sword. You would like that, would you not?"

  "I should," replied Themistocleus.

  "And to you, Alkid, I will bring a drum. That would suit you, would itnot?" And he bowed in Alkid's direction.

  "Zeth--a drum," lisped the boy, hanging his head.

  "Good! Then a drum it shall be--SUCH a beautiful drum! What atur-r-r-ru-ing and a tra-ta-ta-ta-ing you will be able to kick up!Farewell, my darling." And, kissing the boy's head, he turned to Manilovand Madame with the slight smile which one assumes before assuringparents of the guileless merits of their offspring.

  "But you had better stay, Paul Ivanovitch," said the father as the triostepped out on to the verandah. "See how the clouds are gathering!"

  "They are only small ones," replied Chichikov.

  "And you know your way to Sobakevitch's?"

  "No, I do not, and should be glad if you would direct me."

  "If you like I will tell your coachman." And in very civil fashionManilov did so, even going so far as to address the man in the secondperson plural. On hearing that he was to pass two turnings, and then totake a third, Selifan remarked, "We shall get there all right, sir," andChichikov departed amid a profound salvo of salutations and wavings ofhandkerchiefs on the part of his host and hostess, who raised themselveson tiptoe in their enthusiasm.

  For a long while Manilov stood following the departing britchka with hiseyes. In fact, he continued to smoke his pipe and gaze after thevehicle even when it had become lost to view. Then he re-entered thedrawing-room, seated himself upon a chair, and surrendered his mind tothe thought that he had shown his guest most excellent entertainment.Next, his mind passed imperceptibly to other matters, until at last itlost itself God only knows where. He thought of the amenities of a life,of friendship, and of how nice it would be to live with a comrade on,say, the bank of some river, and to span the river with a bridge of hisown, and to build an enormous mansion with a facade lofty enough even toafford a view to Moscow. On that facade he and his wife and friend woulddrink afternoon tea in the open air, and discuss interesting subjects;after which, in a fine carriage, they would drive to some reunion orother, where with their pleasant manners they would so charm the companythat the Imperial Government, on learning of their merits, would raisethe pair to the grade of General or God knows what--that is to say, toheights whereof even Manilov himself could form no idea. Then suddenlyChichikov's extraordinary request interrupted the dreamer's reflections,and he found his brain powerless to digest it, seeing that, turn andturn the matter about as he might, he could not properly explain itsbearing. Smoking his pipe, he sat where he was until supper time.