Chapter 50 others' disaster

others' disaster At about six o'clock in the morning, Kovalev, a newly received doctorate candidate in law, took his young wife into a four-wheeled carriage and drove along a country road.He and his wife had never risen so early before, and the beauty of the quiet summer morning seemed like wonderland to them.The earth is green, dotted with diamond-like dewdrops, and looks beautiful and happy.The sun cast bright spots of light on the trees, and quivered on the shining river.There was a freshness in the unusually clear air, as if the whole world God had just bathed had made it younger and healthier.

For the Kovalevs, as they later admitted, this morning was the happiest time of their honeymoon, and thus of their lives.They talked endlessly, sang, laughed for no reason, quarreled and quarreled, until they remembered that there was a coachman in the carriage, and they were ashamed.Happiness not only smiles at them now, but also smiles at them in the future.They were on their way to buy an estate, "a little poetic corner," which they had longed for since the first day of their wedding.The prospect of the future gave them both a most splendid hope.He vaguely saw him working in the Zemstvo, rationalizing farming, working with his own hands, and all the other pleasures he had read and heard so often.It was the purely romantic aspect of the matter that moved her: the dark avenue, the fishing, the fragrant night... They were so busy talking and laughing that they didn't notice that the carriage had already driven the eighteen versts. distance.They went to inspect the estate of Mikhailov, the seventh-rank civil servant, which stood on a high and steep bank and was hidden in a birch grove. ...the red roofs loomed among the dense verdant woods, and the clay banks were all overgrown with young trees.

"It's not a bad view!" said Kovalev, when the carriage waded across the river and reached the opposite bank. "The house is on the top of the hill, and there's a river at the foot of the hill! God knows how lovely it is! Only you know, Verotchka, that mountain road is a disgrace, . We have bought the estate, and we must put iron railings on the road..." Verochka also liked the scenery here.Laughing loudly, she twisted her whole body and ran up the mountain road, her husband following behind.With disheveled hair and panting, they got into the dense forest.Near the landlord's main house, the first thing they met was a heavy-set peasant with thick, long hair and a sleepy, gloomy expression.

He sat on the porch steps, brushing a pair of children's boots. "Is Mr. Mihailov at home?" Kovalev said to him. "Go and inform him that the buyer of this manor has come to see the house." The peasant looked at the Kovalevs with a startled expression, and walked slowly, but instead of going into the main house, he went to the kitchen next to the main house.Suddenly, many faces flashed through the kitchen window, each more sleepy and surprised. "The buyer is coming!" came a whisper. "Lord, it is your will that the Mikhalkovo estate is sold! Come and see how young they are!"

Somewhere a dog barked, and there came a ferocious wail, like the sound a cat makes when its tail is trampled on.The alarm of the servants was soon passed on to the roosters, ganders, and turkeys who had been strolling peacefully along the avenue.Presently a man with the appearance of a page came hurriedly out of the kitchen, squinted at the Kovalevs, and then ran to the main room, putting on his coat as he ran. ... This scene of anxiety seemed comical to the Kovalevs, and they could hardly hold back a chuckle. "How ridiculous their faces are!" said Kovalev, exchanging glances with his wife. "They look at us like wildlings."

Finally, a small man with an old face, clean-shaven and tousled hair came out of the main room. ...He walked over pulling the broken slippers embroidered with gold thread, smiled wryly, and stared at the two uninvited guests with dumbstruck eyes. ... "Mr. Mikhailov?" Kovalev began, raising his hat. "It is my honor to bow to you. . . . My wife and I have read a circular from the Zemstvo Bank that your estate is for sale, and we will now take a look at it. Maybe we'll buy it. ... Please take the trouble to show us. " Mihailov smiled wryly again, and began to close his eyes in confusion.In his embarrassment, his hair became more fluffy, and his shaved face showed a funny expression of shame and amazement, which made Kovalev and his Verotchka look at each other, and couldn't help smiling slightly. .

"I'm glad," he murmured, "to be at your service. . . . Are you two coming from afar?" "From Conkovo. . . . We live in a cottage there." "In the villa. . . . That's it. . . . Great! Please! But we're just getting up, so excuse me, it's a bit of a mess." Mikhailov smiled wryly, rubbed his hands, and led the guest to the other side of the main room.Kovalev put on his spectacles, pretended to be an experienced traveler admiring a place of interest, and began to examine the estate.First he saw a large brick house, ancient and heavy in structure, adorned with coats of arms and lions, and the plaster was mottled.The roof hadn't been painted for a long time, the window panes were iridescent, and weeds grew in the cracks between the steps.Everything looked decayed and deserted, but on the whole the house was pleasant.It looks poetic, simple and honest, like an old aunt who never married.In front of the house, a few steps from the front porch, there was a gleaming pond with two ducks and a toy boat floating on the water.There are birch trees planted around the pond, all of the same height and thickness.

"Ah, there's a pond!" said Kovalev, his eyes narrowed by the sun. "It's beautiful. Are there crucian carp in there?" "Yes, sir. . . . There used to be carp, but since the pond was no longer dredged, all carp have died." "That shouldn't be the case," Kovalev said lecturingly. "Ponds should be cleaned regularly, not to mention that silt and weeds make good fertilizer for the fields. Guess what, Verochka? When we buy the estate, we'll build a pavilion on stakes in the pond, and another The little bridge goes through it. I have seen such a pavilion in Prince Avrontov's house."

"You can drink tea in the pavilion..." said Verotchka with a sigh of satisfaction. "By the way. . . . over there, what is that tower with a pointed top?" "It's a guest room," answered Mikhailov. "It's a bit of a nuisance standing there. We're going to take it down. Usually there's a lot of stuff to take down here. Lots and lots!" Suddenly, a woman's cry came, which could be heard clearly and distinctly.The Kovalevs turned their heads to look at the main house!But at that moment a window slammed shut, and in the iridescent panes two large tearful eyes flickered and then disappeared.The weeping woman, apparently ashamed of her weeping, slammed the window and hid behind the curtain.

"Would you like to see the garden and the other buildings?" said Mihailov quickly, wrinkling his already wrinkled face into a wry smile. "Let's go. . . . The main thing is not the main house, but . . . but something else . . . " The Kovalevs set off for the stables and the barn.The Candidate of Laws went to every barn, looking at it, smelling it, showing off his knowledge of agriculture.He asked in detail how many desiacres of land there were on the estate, how many animals there were, scolded Russia for cutting down forests, blamed Mikhailov for wasting a lot of dung, and so on.He talked incessantly, and every now and then he glanced at his Verochka.And she, never taking her loving eyes from him, thought to herself, "What a clever man he is!"

The weeping sounded again as they inspected the barn. "Listen, who is crying here?" asked Verochka. Mihailov shook his hand and turned away. "Strange," murmured Verochka, hearing the sobs turn into endless wailing. "As if someone had been beaten, or murdered." "This is my wife crying, God bless her..." said Mikhailov. "Why is she crying?" "She's a weak woman! She can't bear to see her lair sold out." "Then why did you sell it?" asked Verochka. "It's not us, madam, but the bank..." "Strange, how could you allow it?" Mihailov looked sideways at Verochka's flushed face in surprise, and shrugged his shoulders. "It's the bank's interest," he said. "Two thousand and one hundred rubles a year! But where is the money to be found? One cannot help weeping. Women, of course, are weak. She is sorry for the nest, for the child, and I'm sad...I feel embarrassed in front of the servants too...Just now you were over there, near the pond, saying that this one needs to be demolished and that one needs to be built, but those words were like stabbing a knife in her heart .” Kovalev's wife went back, passed the main room, and saw in the window a little schoolboy with cropped hair and two little girls, both Mikhailov's children.What were the children thinking as they looked at the two buyers?Verotchka probably understood what they were thinking. ... By the time she was in her four-wheeled carriage and started home, neither the beautiful morning nor the longing for a poetic corner had lost all charm for her. "How unpleasant it is all!" she said to her husband. "Really, they should be given two thousand and one hundred rubles! Let them live on their estate." "You're so smart!" Kovalev laughed. "Of course they should be pitied, but then again it's their own fault. Who asked them to mortgage the estate? Why didn't they manage it well? They shouldn't even be pitied. Rationalized business methods,...start raising livestock, etc., then you can live well here....But they pigs don't do anything....He must be a drunkard and a gambler, you saw him That face? She must like to dress up and spend money very well. I know these stupid geese!" "But how do you know about them, Stepba?" "I know! He complains that he has no money to pay interest. I don't understand: how can he not earn two thousand? If rational management methods are adopted... fertilize the land and start raising livestock... if the general Comply with the climatic and economic conditions, and you can live on even a dessiacre of land!" On the way home, Steba talked non-stop.His wife listened to him and believed everything he said, but the former feeling was gone forever.Mikhailov's wry smile and those teary eyes that disappeared after a flash never left her mind.Afterwards the happy Steba went twice to negotiate the price, and finally bought the Mikhalkovo estate with her dowry money, but she felt very depressed. ... Her imagination continued to draw Mikhailov and his family in a carriage, crying and leaving their usual hometown.The darker and more sentimental her imagination was, the more radiant Steba was.He lectured on rationalized methods of business with the most tyrannical authority, ordered a large number of books and periodicals, ridiculed Mikhailov, and finally his desire for farming turned into a bold and unscrupulous boast. ... "Just look at it!" he said. "I'm not Mikhailov, I want to make an appearance so that people know what to do! That's right!" The Kovalevs moved to the empty Mikhalkovo, and the first thing Verochka saw were the remnants left by the people who lived here: school schedules written by children, toys without heads, The chickadee flying down to beg for food, the words "Natasya is a fool" written on the wall, etc.There are many things that must be painted over, papered over, or demolished in order to forget the misery of others. "Notes" ① 1 Russian mu is equal to 1.09 hectares.