the man who was afraid- 第56部分

The　steamer　began　to　hiss　angrily；　and　slackened　its　speed。　The　noise　of　the　hissing　of　the　steam　deafened　the　pilgrim's　words；　and　Foma　saw　only　the　movement　of　his　lips。

〃Get　off！〃　a　loud；　angry　shout　was　heard。　〃It's　my　place！〃

〃Yours？〃

〃Here　you　have　yours！〃

〃I'll　rap　you　on　the　jaw；　then　you'll　find　your　place。　What　a　lord！〃

〃Get　away！〃

An　uproar　ensued。　The　peasants　who　were　listening　to　the　pilgrim　turned　their　heads　toward　the　direction　where　the　row　was　going　on；　and　the　pilgrim　heaved　a　sigh　and　became　silent。　Near　the　machine　a　loud　and　lively　dispute　blazed　up　as　though　dry　branches；　thrown　upon　a　dying　bonfire；　had　caught　the　flame。

〃I'll　give　it　to　you；　devils！　Get　away；　both　of　you。〃

〃Take　them　away　to　the　captain。〃

〃Ha！　ha！　ha！　That's　a　fine　settlement　for　you！〃

〃That　was　a　good　rap　he　gave　him　on　the　neck！〃

〃The　sailors　are　a　clever　lot。〃

〃Eight！　nine！〃　shouted　the　man　with　the　measuring　pole。

〃Yes；　increase　speed！〃　came　the　loud　exclamation　of　the　engineer。

Swaying　because　of　the　motion　of　the　steamer；　Foma　stood　leaning　against　the　tarpaulin；　and　attentively　listened　to　each　and　every　sound　about　him。　And　everything　was　blended　into　one　picture；　which　was　familiar　to　him。　Through　fog　and　uncertainty；　surrounded　on　all　sides　by　gloom　impenetrable　to　the　eye；　life　of　man　is　moving　somewhere　slowly　and　heavily。　And　men　are　grieved　over　their　sins；　they　sigh　heavily；　and　then　fight　for　a　warm　place；　and　asking　each　other　for　the　sake　of　possessing　the　place；　they　also　receive　blows　from　those　who　strive　for　order　in　life。　They　timidly　search　for　a　free　road　toward　the　goal。

〃Nine！　eight！〃

The　wailing　cry　is　softly　wafted　over　the　vessel。　〃And　the　holy　prayer　of　the　pilgrim　is　deafened　by　the　tumult　of　life。　And　there　is　no　relief　from　sorrow；　there　is　no　joy　for　him　who　reflects　on　his　fate。〃

Foma　felt　like　speaking　to　this　pilgrim；　in　whose　softly　uttered　words　there　rang　sincere　fear　of　God；　and　all　manner　of　fear　for　men　before　His　countenance。　The　kind；　admonitive　voice　of　the　pilgrim　possessed　a　peculiar　power；　which　compelled　Foma　to　listen　to　its　deep　tones。

〃I'd　like　to　ask　him　where　he　lives；〃　thought　Foma；　fixedly　scrutinizing　the　huge　stooping　figure。　〃And　where　have　I　seen　him　before？　Or　does　he　resemble　some　acquaintance　of　mine？〃

Suddenly　it　somehow　struck　Foma　with　particular　vividness　that　the　humble　preacher　before　him　was　no　other　than　the　son　of　old　Anany　Shchurov。　Stunned　by　this　conjecture；　he　walked　up　to　the　pilgrim　and　seating　himself　by　his　side；　inquired　freely：

〃Are　you　from　Irgiz；　father？〃

The　pilgrim　raised　his　head；　turned　his　face　toward　Foma　slowly　and　heavily；　scrutinized　him　and　said　in　a　calm　and　gentle　voice：

〃I　was　on　the　Irgiz；　too。〃

〃Are　you　a　native　of　that　place？〃

〃Are　you　now　coming　from　there？〃

〃No；　I　am　coming　from　Saint　Stephen。〃

The　conversation　broke　off。　Foma　lacked　the　courage　to　ask　the　pilgrim　whether　he　was　not　Shchurov。

〃We'll　be　late　on　account　of　the　fog；〃　said　some　one。

〃How　can　we　help　being　late！〃

All　were　silent；　looking　at　Foma。　Young；　handsome；　neatly　and　richly　dressed；　he　aroused　the　curiosity　of　the　bystanders　by　his　sudden　appearance　among　them；　he　was　conscious　of　this　curiosity；　he　understood　that　they　were　all　waiting　for　his　words；　that　they　wanted　to　understand　why　he　had　come　to　them；　and　all　this　confused　and　angered　him。

〃It　seems　to　me　that　I've　met　you　before　somewhere；　father；〃　said　he　at　length。

The　pilgrim　replied；　without　looking　at　him：

〃Perhaps。〃

〃I　would　like　to　speak　to　you；〃　announced　Foma；　timidly；　in　a　low　voice。

〃Well；　then；　speak。〃

〃Come　with　me。〃

〃Whither？〃

〃To　my　cabin。〃

The　pilgrim　looked　into　Foma's　face；　and；　after　a　moment's　silence；　assented：

〃Come。〃

On　leaving；　Foma　felt　the　looks　of　the　peasants　on　his　back；　and　now　he　was　pleased　to　know　that　they　were　interested　in　him。

In　the　cabin　he　asked　gently：

〃Would　you　perhaps　eat　something？　Tell　me。　I　will　order　it。〃

〃God　forbid。　What　do　you　wish？〃

This　man；　dirty　and　ragged；　in　a　cassock　turned　red　with　age；　and　covered　with　patches；　surveyed　the　cabin　with　a　squeamish　look；　and　when　he　seated　himself　on　the　plush…covered　lounge；　he　turned　the　skirt　of　the　cassock　as　though　afraid　to　soil　it　by　the　plush。

〃What　is　your　name；　father？〃　asked　Foma；　noticing　the　expression　of　squeamishness　on　the　pilgrim's　face。

〃Miron。〃

〃Not　Mikhail？〃

〃Why　Mikhail？〃　asked　the　pilgrim。

〃There　was　in　our　town　the　son　of　a　certain　merchant　Shchurov；　he　also　went　off　to　the　Irgiz。　And　his　name　was　Mikhail。〃

Foma　spoke　and　fixedly　looked　at　Father　Miron；　but　the　latter　was　as　calm　as　a　deaf…mute

〃I　never　met　such　a　man。　I　don't　remember；　I　never　met　him；〃　said　he；　thoughtfully。　〃So　you　wished　to　inquire　about　him？〃

〃Yes。〃

〃No；　I　never　met　Mikhail　Shchurov。　Well；　pardon　me　for　Christ's　sake！〃　and　rising　from　the　lounge；　the　pilgrim　bowed　to　Foma　and　went　toward　the　door。

〃But　wait　awhile；　sit　down；　let's　talk　a　little！〃　exclaimed　Foma；　rushing　at　him　uneasily。　The　pilgrim　looked　at　him　searchingly　and　sank　down　on　the　lounge。　From　the　distance　came　a　dull　sound；　like　a　deep　groan；　and　immediately　after　it　the　signal　whistle　of　the　steamer　drawled　out　as　in　a　frightened　manner　over　Foma's　and　his　guest's　heads。　From　the　distance　came　a　more　distant　reply；　and　the　whistle　overhead　again　gave　out　abrupt；　timorous　sounds。　Foma　opened　the　window。　Through　the　fog；　not　far　from　their　steamer；　something　was　moving　along　with　deep　noise；　specks　of　fantastic　lights　floated　by；　the　fog　was　agitated　and　again　sank　into　dead　immobility。

〃How　terrible！〃　exclaimed　Foma；　shutting　the　window。

〃What　is　there　to　be　afraid　of？〃　asked　the　pilgrim。　〃You　see！　It　is　neither　day　nor　night；　neither　darkness　nor　light！　We　can　see　nothing；　we　are　sailing　we　know　not　whither；　we　are　straying　on　the　river。〃

〃Have　inward　fire　within　you；　have　light　within　your　soul；　and　you　shall　see　everything；〃　said　the　pilgrim；　sternly　and　instructively。

Foma　was　displeased　with　these　cold　words　and　looked　at　the　pilgrim　askance。　The　latter　sat　with　drooping　head；　motionless；　as　though　petrified　in　thought　and　prayer。　The　beads　of　his　rosary　were　softly　rustling　in　his　hands。

The　pilgrim's　attitude　gave　birth　to　easy　courage　in　Foma's　breast；　and　he　said：

〃Tell　me；　Father　Miron；　is　it　good　to　live；　having　full　freedom；　without　work；　without　relatives；　a　wanderer；　like　yourself？〃

Father　Miron　raised　his　head　and　softly　burst　into　the　caressing　laughter　of　a　child。　All　his　face；　tanned　from　wind　and　sunburn；　brightened　up　with　inward　joy；　was　radiant　with　tranquil　joy；　he　touched　Foma's　knee　with　his　hand　and　said　in　a　sincere　tone：

〃Cast　aside　from　you　all　that　is　worldly；　for　there　is　no　sweetness　in　it。　I　am　telling　you　the　right　wordturn　away　from　evil。　Do　you　remember　it　is　said：

'Blessed　is　the　man　that　walketh　not　in　the　counsel　of　the　ungodly；　nor　standeth　in　the　way　of　sinners。'　Turn　away；　refresh　your　soul　with　solitude　and　fill　yourself　with　the　thought　of　God。　For　only　by　the　thought　of　Him　can　man　save　his　soul　from　profanation。〃

〃That　isn't　the　thing！〃　said　Foma。　〃I　have　no　need　of　working　out　my　salvation。　Have　I　sinned　so　much？　Look　at　others。　What　I　would　like　is　to　comprehend　things。〃

〃And　you　will　comprehend　if　you　turn　away　from　the　world。　Go　forth　upon　the　free　road；　on　the　fields；　on　the　steppes；　on　the　plains；　on　the　mountains。　Go　forth　and　look　at　the　world　from　afar；　from　your　freedom。〃

〃That's　right！〃　cried　Foma。　〃That's　just　what　I　think。　One　can　see　better　from　the　side！〃

And　Miron；　paying　no　attention　to　his　words；　spoke　softly；　as　though　of　some　great　mystery；　known　only　to　him；　the　pilgrim：

〃The　thick　slumbering　forests　around　you　will　start　to　rustle　in　sweet　voices　about　the　wisdom　of　the　Lord；　God's　little　birds　will　sing　before　you　of　His　holy　glory；　and　the　grasses　of　the　steppe　will　burn　incense　to　the　Holy　Virgin。〃

The　pilgrim's　voice　now　rose　and　quivered　from　excess　of　emotion；　now　sank　to　a　mysterious　whisper。　He　seemed　as　though　grown　younger；　his　eyes　beamed　so　confidently　and　clearly；　and　all　his　face　was　radiant　with　the　happy　smile　of　a　man　who　has　found　expression　for　his　joy　and　was　delighted　while　he　poured　it　forth。

〃The　heart　of　God　throbs　in　each　and　every　blade　of　grass；　each　and　every　insect　of　the　air　and　of　the　earth；　breathes　His　holy　spirit。　God；　the　Lord；　Jesus　Christ；　lives　everywhere！　What　beauty　there　is　on　earth；　in　the　fields　and　in　the　forests！　Have　you　ever　been　on　the　Kerzhenz？　An　incomparable　silence　reigns　there　supreme；　the　trees；　the　grass　there　are　like　those　of　paradise。〃

Foma　listened；　and　his　imagination；　captivated　by　the　quiet；　charming　narrative；　pictured　to　him　those　wide　fields　and　dense　forests；　full　of　beauty　and　soul…pacifying　silence。

〃You　look　at　the　sky；　as　you　rest　somewhere　under　a　little　bush；　and　the　sky　seems　to　descend　upon　you　as　though　longing　to　embrace　you。　Your　soul　is　warm；　filled　with　tranquil　joy；　you　desire　nothing；　you　envy　nothing。　And　it　actually　seems　to　you　that　there　is　no　one　on　earth　save　you　and　God。〃

The　pilgrim　spoke；　and　his　voice　and　sing…song　speech　reminded　Foma　of　the　wonderful　fairy…tales　of　Aunt　Anfisa。　He　felt　as　though；　after　a　long　journey　on　a　hot　day；　he　drank　the　clear；　cold　water　of　a　forest　brook；　water　that　had　the　fragrance　of　the　grasses　and　the　flowers　it　has　bathed。　Even　wider　and　wider　grew　the　pictures　as　they　unfolded　upon　him；　here　is　a　path　through　the　thick；　slumbering　forest；　the　fine　sunbeams　penetrate　through　the　branches　of　the　trees；　and　quiver　in　the　air　and　under　the　feet　of　the　wanderer。　There　is　a　savoury　odour　of　fungi　and　decaying　foliage；　the　honeyed　fragrance　of　the　flowers；　the　intense　odour　of　the　pine…tree　invisibly　rise　in　the　air　and　penetrate　the　breast　in　a　warm；　rich　stream。　All　is　silence：　only　the　birds　are　singing；　and　the　silence　is　so　wonderful　that　it　seems　as　though　even　the　birds　were　singing　in　your　breast。　You　go；　without　haste；　and　your　life　goes　on　like　a　dream。　While　here　everything　is　enveloped　in　a　gray；　dead　fog；　and　we　are　foolishly　struggling　about　in　it；　yearning　for