THE COMPLETE NOVELLAS & SHORT STORIES OF FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY. Fyodor Dostoyevsky

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СКАЧАТЬ at the time, that evening, before he went away: when we said all that I have told you, and had come to an understanding, then we came out here for a walk on this embankment. It was ten o’clock; we sat on this seat. I was not crying then; it was sweet to me to hear what he said…. And he said that he would come to us directly he arrived, and if I did not refuse him, then we would tell grandmother about it all. Now he is here, I know it, and yet he does not come!”

      And again she burst into tears.

      “Good God, can I do nothing to help you in your sorrow?” I cried jumping up from the seat in utter despair. “Tell me, Nastenka, wouldn’t it be possible for me to go to him?”

      “Would that be possible?” she asked suddenly, raising her head.

      “No, of course not,” I said pulling myself up; “but I tell you what, write a letter.”

      “No, that’s impossible, I can’t do that,” she answered with decision, bending her head and not looking at me.

      “How impossible — why is it impossible?” I went on, clinging to my idea. “But, Nastenka, it depends what sort of letter; there are letters and letters and…. Ah, Nastenka, I am right; trust to me, trust to me, I will not give you bad advice. It can all be arranged! You took the first step — why not now?”

      “I can’t. I can’t! It would seem as though I were forcing myself on him….”

      “Ah, my good little Nastenka,” I said, hardly able to conceal a smile; “no, no, you have a right to, in fact, because he made you a promise. Besides, I can see from everything that he is a man of delicate feeling; that he behaved very well,” I went on, more and more carried away by the logic of my own arguments and convictions. “How did he behave? He bound himself by a promise: he said that if he married at all he would marry no one but you; he gave you full liberty to refuse him at once…. Under such circumstances you may take the first step; you have the right; you are in the privileged position — if, for instance, you wanted to free him from his promise….”

      “Listen; how would you write?”

      “Write what?”

      “This letter.”

      “I tell you how I would write: ‘Dear Sir.’…”

      “Must I really begin like that, ‘Dear Sir’?”

      “You certainly must! Though, after all, I don’t know, I imagine….”

      “Well, well, what next?”

      “‘Dear Sir, — I must apologize for — —’ But, no, there’s no need to apologize; the fact itself justifies everything. Write simply: —

      “‘I am writing to you. Forgive me my impatience; but I have been happy for a whole year in hope; am I to blame for being unable to endure a day of doubt now? Now that you have come, perhaps you have changed your mind. If so, this letter is to tell you that I do not repine, nor blame you. I do not blame you because I have no power over your heart, such is my fate!

      “‘You are an honourable man. You will not smile or be vexed at these impatient lines. Remember they are written by a poor girl; that she is alone; that she has no one to direct her, no one to advise her, and that she herself could never control her heart. But forgive me that a doubt has stolen — if only for one instant — into my heart. You are not capable of insulting, even in thought, her who so loved and so loves you.’”

      “Yes, yes; that’s exactly what I was thinking!” cried Nastenka, and her eyes beamed with delight. “Oh, you have solved my difficulties: God has sent you to me! Thank you, thank you!”

      “What for? What for? For God’s sending me?” I answered, looking delighted at her joyful little face. “Why, yes; for that too.”

      “Ah, Nastenka! Why, one thanks some people for being alive at the same time with one; I thank you for having met me, for my being able to remember you all my life!”

      “Well, enough, enough! But now I tell you what, listen: we made an agreement then that as soon as he arrived he would let me know, by leaving a letter with some good simple people of my acquaintance who know nothing about it; or, if it were impossible to write a letter to me, for a letter does not always tell everything, he would be here at ten o’clock on the day he arrived, where we had arranged to meet. I know he has arrived already; but now it’s the third day, and there’s no sign of him and no letter. It’s impossible for me to get away from grandmother in the morning. Give my letter tomorrow to those kind people I spoke to you about: they will send it on to him, and if there is an answer you bring it tomorrow at ten o’clock.”

      “But the letter, the letter! You see, you must write the letter first! So perhaps it must all be the day after tomorrow.”

      “The letter ..,” said Nastenka, a little confused, “the letter … but….”

      But she did not finish. At first she turned her little face away from me, flushed like a rose, and suddenly I felt in my hand a letter which had evidently been written long before, all ready and sealed up. A familiar sweet and charming reminiscence floated through my mind.

      “R, o — Ro; s, i — si; n, a — na,” I began.

      “Rosina!” we both hummed together; I almost embracing her with delight, while she blushed as only she could blush, and laughed through the tears which gleamed like pearls on her black eyelashes.

      “Come, enough, enough! Goodbye now,” she said speaking rapidly. “Here is the letter, here is the address to which you are to take it. Goodbye, till we meet again! Till tomorrow!”

      She pressed both my hands warmly, nodded her head, and flew like an arrow down her side street. I stood still for a long time following her with my eyes.

      “Till tomorrow! till tomorrow!” was ringing in my ears as she vanished from my sight.

      THIRD NIGHT

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       To-day was a gloomy, rainy day without a glimmer of sunlight, like the old age before me. I am oppressed by such strange thoughts, such gloomy sensations; questions still so obscure to me are crowding into my brain — and I seem to have neither power nor will to settle them. It’s not for me to settle all this!

      To-day we shall not meet. Yesterday, when we said goodbye, the clouds began gathering over the sky and a mist rose. I said that tomorrow it would be a bad day; she made no answer, she did not want to speak against her wishes; for her that day was bright and clear, not one cloud should obscure her happiness.

      “If it rains we shall not see each other,” she said, “I shall not come.”

      I thought that she would not notice to-day’s rain, and yet she has not come.

      Yesterday was our third interview, our third white night….

      But how fine joy and happiness makes any one! How brimming over with love the heart is! One seems longing to pour out one’s whole heart; one wants everything to be gay, everything to be laughing. And how infectious that joy is! There СКАЧАТЬ