earth and endure in patience and fast.... And now go along, my dear. I
am very weary, I'll sleep a little.'
And Akim with a groan stretched himself on the bench.
Avdotya wanted to say something, stood a moment, looked at him, turned
away and went out.
'Well, he didn't beat you then?' asked Petrovitch sitting bent up on
the ledge when she was level with him. Avdotya passed by him without
speaking. 'So he didn't beat her,' the old man said to himself; he
smiled, ruffled up his beard and took a pinch of snuff.
* * * * *
Akim carried out his intention. He hurriedly arranged his affairs and
a few days after the conversation we have described went, dressed
ready for his journey, to say goodbye to his wife who had settled for
a time in a little lodge in the mistress's garden. His farewell did
not take long. Kirillovna, who happened to be present, advised Akim to
see his mistress; he did so, Lizaveta Prohorovna received him with
some confusion but graciously let him kiss her hand and asked him
where he meant to go. He answered he was going first to Kiev and after
that where it would please the Lord. She commended his decision and
dismissed him. From that time he rarely appeared at home, though he
never forgot to bring his mistress some holy bread.... But wherever
Russian pilgrims gather his thin and aged but always dignified and
handsome face could be seen: at the relics of St. Sergey; on the
shores of the White Sea, at the Optin hermitage, and at the far-away
Valaam; he went everywhere.
This year he has passed by you in the ranks of the innumerable
people who go in procession behind the ikon of the Mother of God to
the Korennaya; last year you found him sitting with a wallet on
his shoulders with other pilgrims on the steps of Nikolay, the
wonder-worker, at Mtsensk ... he comes to Moscow almost every spring.
From land to land he has wandered with his quiet, unhurried, but
never-resting step--they say he has been even to Jerusalem. He seems
perfectly calm and happy and those who have chanced to converse with
him have said much of his piety and humility. Meanwhile, Naum's
fortunes prospered exceedingly. He set to work with energy and good
sense and got on, as the saying is, by leaps and bounds. Everyone in
the neighbourhood knew by what means he had acquired the inn, they
knew too that Avdotya had given him her husband's money; nobody liked
Naum because of his cold, harsh disposition.... With censure they told
the story of him that once when Akim himself had asked alms under his
window he answered that God would give, and had given him nothing; but
everyone agreed that there never had been a luckier man; his corn came
better than other people's, his bees swarmed more frequently; even his
hens laid more eggs; his cattle were never ill, his horses did not go
lame.... It was a long time before Avdotya could bear to hear his name
(she had accepted Lizaveta Prohorovna's invitation and had reentered
her service as head sewing-maid), but in the end her aversion was
somewhat softened; it was said that she had been driven by poverty to
appeal to him and he had given her a hundred roubles.... She must not
be too severely judged: poverty breaks any will and the sudden and
violent change in her life had greatly aged and humbled her: it was
hard to believe how quickly she lost her looks, how completely she let
herself go and lost heart....
How did it all end? the reader will ask. Why, like this: Naum, after