distracted to do anything at all. For a long while I stared vacantly
at the book; but tears at the thought of the impending separation kept
rushing to my eyes and preventing me from reading a single word. When at
length the time came to repeat the dialogues to Karl (who listened to us
with blinking eyes--a very bad sign), I had no sooner reached the place
where some one asks, 'Wo kommen Sie her?' ('Where do you come from?')
and some one else answers him, 'Ich komme vom Kaffeehaus' ('I come from
the coffee-house'), than I burst into tears and, for sobbing, could not
pronounce, 'Haben Sie die Zeitung nicht gelesen?' ('Have you not read the
newspaper?') at all. Next, when we came to our writing lesson, the tears
kept falling from my eyes and, making a mess on the paper, as though
some one had written on blotting-paper with water, Karl was very
angry. He ordered me to go down upon my knees, declared that it was all
obstinacy and 'puppet-comedy playing' (a favourite expression of his)
on my part, threatened me with the ruler, and commanded me to say that
I was sorry. Yet for sobbing and crying I could not get a word out. At
last--conscious, perhaps, that he was unjust--he departed to Nicola's
pantry, and slammed the door behind him. Nevertheless their conversation
there carried to the schoolroom.
'Have you heard that the children are going to Moscow, Nicola?' said
Karl.
'Yes. How could I help hearing it?'
At this point Nicola seemed to get up for Karl said, 'Sit down, Nicola,'
and then locked the door. However, I came out of my corner and crept to
the door to listen.
'However much you may do for people, and however fond of them you may
be, never expect any gratitude, Nicola,' said Karl warmly. Nicola, who
was shoe-cobbling by the window, nodded his head in assent.
'Twelve years have I lived in this house,' went on Karl, lifting his
eyes and his snuff-box towards the ceiling, 'and before God I can say
that I have loved them, and worked for them, even more than if they had
been my own children. You recollect, Nicola, when Woloda had the fever?
You recollect how, for nine days and nights, I never closed my eyes as
I sat beside his bed? Yes, at that time I was 'the dear, good Karl
Ivanitch'--I was wanted then; but now'--and he smiled ironically--'the
children are growing up, and must go to study in earnest. Perhaps they
never learnt anything with me, Nicola? Eh?'
'I am sure they did,' replied Nicola, laying his awl down and
straightening a piece of thread with his hands.
'No, I am wanted no longer, and am to be turned out. What good are
promises and gratitude? Natalia Nicolaevna'--here he laid his hand upon
his heart--'I love and revere, but what can SHE I do here? Her will is
powerless in this house.'
He flung a strip of leather on the floor with an angry gesture. 'Yet I
know who has been playing tricks here, and why I am no longer wanted. It
is because I do not flatter and toady as certain people do. I am in
the habit of speaking the truth in all places and to all persons,' he
continued proudly, 'God be with these children, for my leaving them will
benefit them little, whereas I--well, by God's help I may be able to
earn a crust of bread somewhere. Nicola, eh?'
Nicola raised his head and looked at Karl as though to consider whether
he would indeed be able to earn a crust of bread, but he said nothing.
Karl said a great deal more of the same kind--in particular how much
better his services had been appreciated at a certain general's where
