The Complete Works of Count Tolstoy/Childhood/Chapter 3
III.
PAPA
He was standing near the writing-table and, pointing to some envelopes, papers, and heaps of money, was speaking excitedly about something to steward Yákov Mikháylovich, who was standing in his customary place, between the door and the barometer, with his hands behind his back, rapidly moving his fingers in all directions.
The more excitedly father spoke, the more rapidly his fingers twitched, and, again, when father stopped speaking, his fingers ceased moving; but when Yákov himself began to speak his fingers came into the greatest commotion and desperately jumped on all sides. It seems to me one could have guessed Yákov's secret thoughts by their motion. But his face was quiet, and expressed the consciousness of his dignity and at the same time of his subserviency, as much as to say: "I am right; however, as you may wish it!"
When papa saw us, he only said:
"Wait a moment."
With a motion of his head he pointed to the door, which he wanted some one of us to close.
"Oh, merciful Lord! What is the matter with you to-day, Yákov?" continued he to the steward, twitching his shoulders, which was a habit of his. "This envelope with the enclosed eight hundred roubles—"
Yákov moved up the abacus, cast 800 upon it, and fixed his eyes upon an indefinite point, waiting for things to follow.
"— are for farm expenses during my absence. You understand? For the mill you are to get one thousand roubles — is it not so? You will get back deposits from the treasury, eight thousand roubles; for the hay, of which, according to your own calculation, we ought to sell seven thousand puds, — let me say at forty-five kopeks, — you will receive three thousand roubles; consequently, how much money will you have in all? Twelve thousand, — am I not right?"
"Just so, sir," said Yákov.
But I noticed by the rapidity with which his fingers moved that he was about to retort something. Papa interrupted him.
"Well, from these moneys you will send ten thousand to the Council for the Petróvskoe estate. Now, the money which is in the office," continued papa (Yákov had disturbed the former 12,000, and now cast 21,000 on his abacus), "you will bring to me, and you will write it down among the expenses of this date." (Yákov mixed up the accounts and turned over the abacus, no doubt wishing to say by this that the 21,000 would be equally lost.) "But this envelope with the enclosed money you will deliver in my name according to the address."
I was standing near the table and looked at the inscription. It ran: "To Karl Iványch Mauer."
Evidently noticing that I had read what I ought not to know, papa placed his hand upon my shoulder, and with a slight motion indicated a direction away from the table. I did not understand whether that was a favour or a reprimand, but in any case kissed his large venous hand which lay upon my shoulder.
"At your service, sir," said Yákov. "And what is your order in regard to the Khabárovka money?"
Khabárovka was mother's estate.
"Leave it in the office, and never use it without my order."
Yákov was silent for a few moments; then suddenly his fingers began to move with increased rapidity, and, changing the expression of submissive stupidity with which he listened to his master's commands, into one of shrewd cunning, which was peculiar to him, he moved the abacus up to him, and began to speak.
"Permit me to report to you, Peter Aleksándrovich, that your will shall be done, but it is impossible to pay into the Council at the proper time. You have deigned to say," continued he, speaking more slowly, "that money is due from the deposits, the mill, and the hay." (As he mentioned these items, he cast them on the abacus.) "But I am afraid we may have made a mistake in our calculations," he added, after a short silence, and looking thoughtfully at papa.
"Why?"
"Permit me to show you: as to the mill, the miller has come to see me twice to ask for a delay; he swore by Christ that he had no money, and he is here even now; perhaps you would be pleased to speak to him yourself?"
"What does he say?" asked papa, making a sign with his head that he did not wish to speak with the miller.
"The same old thing! He says that there has been no grinding at all, that all the money he had he put into a dam. What advantage would there be for us, sir, to push him for it? As to the deposits, which you mentioned, it seems to me I already have reported that our money is stuck fast there, and that it will not be so easy to get it soon. I only lately sent to town a wagon of flour to Iván Afanásich, and with it a note in regard to this matter: he answered that it would give him pleasure to do something for Peter Aleksándrych, but that the affair was not in his hands, and that, according to appearances, the receipt would not be delivered for two months yet. In regard to the hay you have deigned to remark, suppose even we shall get three thousand roubles—"
He cast 3,000 on the abacus and kept silent for about a minute, looking now at the abacus, now into father's eyes, as much as to say:
"You see yourself how little that is! And the hay, again, will have to be sold first; if we were to sell it now, you can see for yourself—"
He evidently had still a great supply of proofs; it was, no doubt, for this reason that papa interrupted him.
"I sha'n't change my order," said he; "but if there will really be a delay in the receipt of the money, then we can't help ourselves, and you will take as much money of the Khabárovka estate as will be necessary."
"Your servant, sir!"
By Yákov's expression of face and by his fingers one could tell that this latter order afforded him a great pleasure.
Yákov was a serf, but a very zealous and devoted man. Like all good stewards, he was extremely close-fisted for his master, and had the strangest conceptions about his master's advantages. He eternally schemed for the increase of his master's property at the expense of that of his mistress, and tried to prove that it was necessary to use all the income from her estates for the Petróvskoe village, where we were living. He was triumphant at this moment, because he had been completely successful.
Having bid us good morning, papa told us that we had been long enough frittering our time away in the village, that we were no longer babies, and that it was time for us to begin studying in earnest.
"I think you know already that I am this very evening going to Moscow, and that I shall take you with me," said he. "You will be living with grandmother, and mamma will stay here with the girls. And remember this: her only consolation will be to hear that you are studying well and that people are satisfied with you."
Although from the preparations which had been going on for several days we expected something unusual, yet this news gave us a terrible shock. Volódya blushed and with a trembling voice gave him mother's message.
"So this is what my dream foreboded!" thought I. "God grant only that nothing worse may happen."
I was very sorry for mother; at the same time the thought that we were now grown gave me pleasure.
"If we are to travel to-day, there will be no classes: that is glorious!" thought I. "However, I am sorry for Karl Ivánovich. He will, no doubt, be dismissed, or else they would not have fixed an envelope for him. It would be better, after all, to study all our lives and not to go away, not to leave mother, and not to offend poor Karl Ivánovich. He is unfortunate enough without it!"
These thoughts flashed through my head: I did not budge from the spot, and fixed my eyes on the black ribbons of my shoes.
My father said a few words to Karl Ivánovich about the falling of the barometer, and ordered Yákov not to feed the dogs, so that before his leave-taking he might go out in the afternoon and listen to the baying of the young hounds. Contrary to my expectation he sent us back to study, consoling us, however, with a promise to take us out on the hunt.
On my way up-stairs I ran out on the terrace. At the door lay father's favourite greyhound, Mílka, blinking her eyes in the sun.
"Dear Mílka," said I, patting her and kissing her mouth, "we are going away to-day. Good-bye! We shall never see each other again."
I was agitated, and I began to weep.