several times in succession, making a low bow, seeming delighted at
having at last got hold of an intelligible word.
My head began to go round.
'What does it all mean?' I asked of an old woman who was looking out
of the window of the little house.
'Well, my good gentleman,' she answered in a sing-song voice, 'they
say some man--the Lord only knows who--went and drowned himself and
she saw it. Well, it gave her a fright or something; when she came
home she seemed all right though; but when she sat down on the
step--here, she has been sitting ever since like an image, it's no good
talking to her. I suppose she has lost her speech, too. Oh, dear! Oh,
dear!'
'Good-bye, good-bye,' Latkin kept repeating, still with the same bow.
I went up to Raissa and stood directly facing her.
'Raissa, dear, what's the matter with you?'
She made no answer, she seemed not to notice me. Her face had not
grown pale, had not changed--but had turned somehow stony and there
was a look in it as though she were just falling asleep.
'She is cross-eyed, cross-eyed,' Latkin muttered in my ear.
I took Raissa by the hand. 'David is alive,' I cried, more loudly than
before. 'Alive and well; David's alive, do you understand? He was
pulled out of the water; he is at home now and told me to say that he
will come to you to-morrow; he is alive!' As it were with effort
Raissa turned her eyes on me; she blinked several times, opening them
wider and wider, then leaned her head on one side and flushed slightly
all over while her lips parted ... she slowly drew in a deep breath,
winced as though in pain and with fearful effort articulated:
'Da ... Dav ... a ... alive,' got up impulsively and rushed away.
'Where are you going?' I exclaimed. But with a faint laugh she ran
staggering across the waste-ground....
I, of course, followed her, while behind me a wail rose up in unison
from the old man and the child.... Raissa darted straight to our
house.
'Here's a day!' I thought, trying not to lose sight of the black dress
that was fluttering before me. 'Well!'
XXII
Passing Vassily, my aunt, and even Trankvillitatin, Raissa ran into
the room where David was lying and threw herself on his neck. 'Oh...
oh ... Da ... vidushka,' her voice rang out from under her loose
curls, 'oh!'
Flinging wide his arms David embraced her and nestled his head against
her.
'Forgive me, my heart,' I heard his voice saying.
And both seemed swooning with joy.
'But why did you go home, Raissa, why didn't you stay?' I said to
her.... She still kept her head bowed. 'You would have seen that he
was saved....'
'Ah, I don't know! Ah, I don't know. Don't ask. I don't know, I don't
remember how I got home. I only remember: I saw you in the air ...
something seemed to strike me... and what happened afterwards...'
'Seemed to strike you,' repeated David, and we all three suddenly
burst out laughing together. We were very happy.
'What may be the meaning of this, may I ask,' we heard behind us a
threatening voice, the voice of my father. He was standing in the
doorway. 'Will there ever be an end to these fooleries? Where are we
living? Are we in the Russian Empire or the French Republic?'
He came into the room.
'Anyone who wants to be rebellious and immoral had better go to France!
And how dare
quietly sitting up and turning to face him, was evidently taken aback but
still smiled as before, a friendly and blissful smile.
'The daughter of my sworn enemy! How dare you? And hugging him, too!
