The Complete Works of Fyodor Dostoyevsky: Novels, Short Stories and Autobiographical Writings. Федор Достоевский

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СКАЧАТЬ noticing the caustic tone of the speaker. "I tried to mend boots, but I never got beyond a single pair."

      "And were you paid for them?"

      "Well, I found a fellow who certainly neither feared God nor honoured either his father or his mother, and as a punishment, Providence made him buy the work of my hands."

      The men around Scuratoff burst into a laugh.

      "I also worked once at the convict prison," continued Scuratoff, with imperturbable coolness. "I did up the boots of Stepan Fedoritch, the lieutenant."

      "And was he satisfied?"

      "No, my dear fellows, indeed he was not; he blackguarded me enough to last me for the rest of my life. He also pushed me from behind with his knee. What a rage he was in! Ah! my life has deceived me. I see no fun in the convict prison whatever." He began to sing again.

      Akolina's husband is in the court-yard.

       There he waits.

      Again he sang, and again he danced and leaped.

      "Most unbecoming!" murmured the Little Russian, who was walking by my side.

      "Frivolous man!" said another in a serious, decided tone.

      I could not make out why they insulted Scuratoff, nor why they despised those convicts who were light-hearted, as they seemed to do. I attributed the anger of the Little Russian and the others to a feeling of personal hostility, but in this I was wrong. They were vexed that Scuratoff had not that puffed-up air of false dignity with which the whole of the convict prison was impregnated.

      They did not, however, get annoyed with all the jokers, nor treat them all like Scuratoff. Some of them were men who would stand no nonsense, and forgive no one voluntarily or involuntarily. It was necessary to treat them with respect. There was in our band a convict of this very kind, a good-natured, lively fellow, whom I did not see in his true light until later on. He was a tall young fellow, with pleasant manners, and not without good looks. There was at the same time a very comic expression on his face.

      He was called the Sapper, because he had served in the Engineers. He belonged to the special section.

      But all the serious-minded convicts were not so particular as the Little Russian, who could not bear to see people gay.

      We had in our prison several men who aimed at a certain pre-eminence, either in virtue of skill at their work, of their general ingenuity, of their character, or their wit. Many of them were intelligent and energetic, and reached the point they were aiming at—pre-eminence, that is to say, and moral influence over their companions. They often hated one another, and they excited general envy. They looked upon other convicts with a dignified air, that was full of condescension; and they never quarrelled without a cause. Favourably looked upon by the administration, they in some measure directed the work, and none of them would have lowered himself so far as to quarrel with a man about his songs. All these men were very polite to me during the whole time of my imprisonment, but not at all communicative.

      At last we reached the bank; a little lower down was the old hulk, which we were to break up, stuck fast in the ice. On the other side of the water was the blue steppe and the sad horizon. I expected to see every one go to work at once. Nothing of the kind. Some of the convicts sat down negligently on wooden beams that were lying near the shore, and nearly all took from their pockets pouches containing native tobacco—which was sold in leaf at the market at the rate of three kopecks a pound—and short wooden pipes. They lighted them while the soldiers formed a circle around them, and began to watch us with a tired look.

      "Who the devil had the idea of sinking this barque?" asked one of the convicts in a loud voice, without speaking to any one in particular.

      "Were they very anxious, then, to have it broken up?"

      "The people were not afraid to give us work," said another.

      "Where are all those peasants going to work?" said the first, after a short silence.

      He had not even heard his companion's answer. He pointed with his finger to the distance, where a troop of peasants were marching in file across the virgin snow.

      All the convicts turned negligently towards this side, and began from mere idleness to laugh at the peasants as they approached them. One of them, the last of the line, walked very comically with his arms apart, and his head on one side. He wore a tall pointed cap. His shadow threw itself in clear lines on the white snow.

      "Look how our brother Petrovitch is dressed," said one of my companions, imitating the pronunciation of the peasants of the locality. One amusing thing—the convicts looked down on peasants, although they were for the most part peasants by origin.

      "The last one, too, above all, looks as if he were planting radishes."

      "He is an important personage, he has lots of money," said a third.

      They all began to laugh without, however, seeming genuinely amused.

      During this time a woman selling cakes came up. She was a brisk, lively person, and it was with her that the five kopecks given by the townsman were spent.

      The young fellow who sold white bread in the convict prison took two dozen of her cakes, and had a long discussion with the woman in order to get a reduction in price. She would not, however, agree to his terms.

      At last the non-commissioned officer appointed to superintend the work came up with a cane in his hand.

      "What are you sitting down for? Begin at once."

      "Give us our tasks, Ivan Matveitch," said one of the "foremen" among us, as he slowly got up.

      "What more do you want? Take out the barque, that is your task."

      Then ultimately the convicts got up and went to the river, but very slowly. Different "directors" appeared, "directors," at least, in words. The barque was not to be broken up anyhow. The latitudinal and longitudinal beams were to be preserved, and this was not an easy thing to manage.

      "Draw this beam out, that is the first thing to do," cried a convict who was neither a director nor a foreman, but a simple workman. This man, very quiet and a little stupid, had not previously spoken. He now bent down, took hold of a heavy beam with both hands, and waited for some one to help him. No one, however, seemed inclined to do so.

      "Not you, indeed, you will never manage it; not even your grandfather, the bear, could do it," muttered some one between his teeth.

      "Well, my friend, are we to begin? As for me, I can do nothing alone," said, with a morose air, the man who had put himself forward, and who now, quitting the beam, held himself upright.

      "Unless you are going to do all the work by yourself, what are you in such a hurry about?"

      "I was only speaking," said the poor fellow, excusing himself for his forwardness.

      "Must you have blankets to keep yourselves warm, or are you to be heated for the winter?" cried a non-commissioned officer to the twenty men who seemed to loathe to begin work. "Go on at once."

      "It is never any use being in a hurry, Ivan Matveitch."

      "But you are doing nothing at all, Savelieff. What are you casting СКАЧАТЬ