Chapter 50 Part One - Forty Seven

Nekhludoff had been waiting for a long time in the prison porch. He came to the prison, rang the bell at the gate, and handed over the prosecutor's permit to the guard on duty. "Who are you looking for?" "To visit the prisoner Maslova." "Not now. The warden is busy." "Is he in the office?" asked Nekhludoff. "No, he's here, in the visiting room," answered the guard, who seemed a little disturbed to Nekhludoff. "Is today the day to visit the prison?" "No, there is a special event today," he said. "How can I meet him?"

"When he comes out later, you can tell him yourself. You wait for a while." At this time, the chief secretary came out from the side door.He was radiant in his uniform of shining silk, his mustache smelled of tobacco, and he said sharply to the guard: "How do you bring people here? . . . to the office . . . " "They told me the superintendent is here," said Nekhludoff, wondering that the superintendent was also a little nervous. At this time, a door opened inside, and Petrov came out with agitated expression and sweating profusely. "Now he'll remember," he said, turning to the quartermaster.

The quartermaster gave him a wink, indicating that Nekhludoff was here, and Petrov fell silent, frowned, and went away through the back door. "Who will remember? Why are they all in such a hurry? Why is the quartermaster winking at him?" Nekhludoff wondered. "You can't wait here, go to the office, please," said the quartermaster again to Nekhludoff.Just as Nekhludoff was about to go out, the warden came in through the back door, looking even more flustered than his subordinates.He sighed, and as soon as he saw Nekhludoff he turned to the guard and said: "Fytotov, take Maslova from women's prison No. 5 to the office."

"Come here, please," he said to Nekhludoff.They went up a steep staircase to a small room with only one window, a writing table and some chairs.The warden sat down. "It's a tough job, a tough job," he said to Nekhludoff, taking out a heavy cigarette. "You look tired," said Nekhludoff. "I'm tired of this job. It's so painful. I try to make it easier for them, but it makes it worse. I want to leave sooner. It's such a hard job, so hard." Nekhludoff did not know what had caused the warden to suffer so much, but he saw that the warden was in a very sad and pitiful mood today.

"Yes, I see you are very bitter," said he. "But why do you have such an errand?" "I have no property, but I have to support my family." "Since you feel bitter..." "Well, to tell you the truth, I'll try my best to do something good to alleviate their suffering. It would never be done by someone else. You see, there are more than two thousand people here, and what are they? Such people are really easier said than done! You have to know how to deal with them. They are human beings, and they are pitiable. But they cannot be indulged."

The warden talked about an incident that happened not long ago.Several male prisoners fought and ended up being killed. At that moment the guard ushered in Maslova and interrupted him. Maslova went to the door, but before she saw the warden, Nekhludoff saw her.Her face was red, and she followed the guard energetically, shaking her head and smiling.As soon as she saw the warden, she stared at him with a look of alarm on her face, but immediately collected herself and greeted Nekhludoff boldly and cheerfully. "Hello!" She said in a drawn out voice, with a smile on her face, and shook his hand vigorously, which was quite different from the last time.

"Here, I've brought you a certificate, and you have to sign it," said Nekhludoff, a little surprised at the vivacity with which she had seen him today. "The lawyer has written a pleading. You sign it, and we will send it to Petersburg." "Okay, just sign it. Do anything," she said with a smile, squinting one eye. Nekhludoff took a folded paper from his pocket and went to the table. "May I sign here?" Nekhludoff asked the warden. "Come here, sit down," said the warden, "and here's your pen. Can you read?" "I knew it before," she said, smiling, straightening her skirt and jacket sleeves, sitting down at the table, holding the pen clumsily in her strong little hands, and, laughing, cast another glance at Nekhludoff.

He instructed her how to sign and where to sign. She picked up the pen, dipped it in the ink well, shook off a drop of ink, and wrote her name. "Is there anything else?" she asked, looking now at Nekhludoff, now at the warden, putting the pen in the inkwell, and then putting it on the paper. "I have something to tell you," said Nekhludoff, taking the pen from her hand. "Okay, tell me," she said, suddenly her face became serious as if she had thought of something or wanted to sleep. The warden got up and went out, leaving Nekhludoff and Maslova alone in the room.