Chapter 112 Part Three - Eight

This station, like all the stations along the Siberia route, has a yard surrounded by pointed round wooden piles, and there are three bungalows in the yard.The largest one has iron windows and houses prisoners.The other one lived with escort soldiers.Another housed the officers and had offices.The three houses were brightly lit at the moment, as usual, giving the illusion that they must be nice and comfortable inside, especially in this inn.There were lamps burning at the entrances of each house, and five or six more lamps around the walls to light up the yards.A sergeant led Nekhludoff across a plank to the door of the smallest house.He climbed the three steps, letting Nekhludoff go ahead, and entered the antechamber, which was lit by a small lamp and smelled of soot.Beside the fire was a soldier in a coarse shirt, black trousers, and tie, with a long yellow boot on one foot, stooping, and fanning a samovar with the shaft of the other boot.As soon as he saw Nekhludoff, he dropped the samovar, helped Nekhludoff take off his fur coat, and went into the inner room.

"Here he comes, sir." "Oh, call him in!" came an angry voice. "Go in through this door," said the soldier, continuing to burn the samovar. In a second room, lit by a chandelier, a flushed officer with a long flaxen moustache, in an Austrian jacket covering his broad chest and shoulders, sat at a table.There was a tablecloth on the table, leftovers from the meal and two wine bottles.In this warm room, in addition to the smell of tobacco, there was also a pungent smell of inferior perfume.Seeing Nekhludoff, the escort bowed and stared at him mockingly and suspiciously.

"What do you want?" he asked, and without waiting for an answer, he shouted at the door: "Bernov! When will the samovar be ready?" "It will be fine soon." "I'll show you some color right away so you can remember it!" The escort officer gave him a blank look and cursed. "Here we come!" cried the soldier, entering with a samovar. Nekhludoff waited for the soldier to put the tea away (the officer stared at the soldier viciously with his small eyes, as if aiming for a spot to beat him).After the samovar was put away, the escort officer began to make tea.Then I took a brandy square and some sandwich biscuits from the travel bag.He put these things on the table, turned to Nekhludoff and said:

"Then what can I do for you?" "I want to see a female prisoner," said Nekhludoff, without sitting down. "Is it a political prisoner? According to the law, visits are prohibited," the escort officer said. "This woman is not a political prisoner," said Nekhludoff. "Sit down, please," said the escort. Nekhludoff sat down. "She's not a political prisoner," he repeated, "but at my request, she was allowed to go with a political prisoner by the Supreme Command..." "Oh, I see," interrupted the officer of the escort. "That little black-haired bitch? Well, yes. Do you smoke?"

He pushed a pack of cigarettes up to Nekhludoff, carefully poured out two cups of tea, and handed one to Nekhludoff. "Please," he said. "Thank you. I would like to meet..." "It's a long night, and you have plenty of time. I'll just send and get her for you." "Can you not call her out, and let me go to them?" "To a political prisoner? It's against the law." "I have been there several times. If you are afraid that I will bring something to political prisoners, I can pass it on through her." "Oh, no, she's going to be seized," said the escort officer, with an unhappy smile.

"Oh, then you can search me first." "Oh, you don't have to search," said the escort, taking an uncorked bottle and putting it on Nekhludoff's teacup. "Would you like a little more? Oh, then whatever. It's such a pleasure to meet a well-bred man in a place like Siberia. Honestly, there's nothing sadder about being in our line of business. A person who is used to a different kind of life and comes to this place is very miserable. You know, when people mention our line of work, as escort officers, they always think that they are uneducated and rough, but they just don't want to think about it. It’s perfectly fine to be born to do other things.”

Nekhludoff was disgusted by the officer's flushed face, the smell of his perfume, his rings, and above all his ugly laugh.However, Nekhludoff was as serious and cautious today as he was during the entire trip.He does not neglect or despise anyone, and he is "serious" when talking to anyone, which is the attitude he has set for himself.He listened to the words of the escort, thinking that he sympathized with the sufferings of those under his command, and his heart was heavy.Nekhludoff said to him solemnly: "I think you can feel more at ease when you do this kind of work and try to alleviate people's suffering," he said.

"What pain do they have? That's what they are." "What's so special about them?" said Nekhludoff. "I'm not human like everyone else. There are innocent people among them." "Of course, there are all kinds of people. Of course, it's very pitiful. The other escort officers are not sloppy, but I always try to alleviate their suffering as much as possible. I would rather accept it myself, or shoot them, but I always I'm sorry for them. Would you like some more tea? You can eat," he said, pouring tea for him again. "Who is the woman you want to meet?" he asked.

"She was an unfortunate woman who ended up in a brothel, where she was falsely accused of poisoning people, when in fact she was a very good woman," said Nekhludoff. The escort officer shook his head. "Yes, there are such things. I can tell you that there was such a woman in Kazan. Her name was Emma. She was originally a Hungarian, with pure Persian eyes," he went on. Said, can't help laughing just thinking about it. "Excellent manner, almost like a countess..." Nekhludoff interrupted the escort and returned to the original topic. "I think that since they are now in your charge, you can relieve their suffering. If you can do this, I believe you will be very happy," said Nekhludoff, speaking as clearly as possible, as if Like talking to a foreigner or a child.

The officer of the escort looked at Nekhludoff with twinkling eyes, obviously impatient for him to finish his sentence so that he could continue with the story of the Hungarian woman with Persian eyes.The image of her evidently came to his mind vividly, and attracted his whole attention. "Yes, that's true, that's exactly what it is," he said. "I feel sorry for them, too. But I want to talk to you about that Emma. What do you think she has done..." "I'm not interested in that," said Nekhludoff. "To tell you the truth, I used to be a different kind of person, but now I hate this attitude towards women."

The escort looked at Nekhludoff in surprise. "Shall I have some more tea, then?" he said. "no thanks." "Bernov!" cried the escort, "take this gentleman to Vakulov and tell him that he will be allowed to stay in the room of the political prisoners until roll call."