Virgin Soil (Garnett)/Volume 2/Chapter 16
XXXVI
When Marianna, the same morning, came out of her room, she saw Nezhdanov dressed and sitting on the sofa. In one hand he held his head, the other lay weak and motionless on his knees. She went up to him.
'Good morning, Alexey.. . . You've not undressed? you've not slept? How pale you are!'
His heavy eyelids rose slowly.
'No, I didn't undress, I've not been asleep.'
'Are you ill, or is it the result of yesterday?'
Nezhdanov shook his head.
'I couldn't sleep after Solomin went into your room.'
'When.?'
'Yesterday evening.'
'Alexey, are you jealous? Well, that's something new! And what a time you've chosen to be jealous! He only stayed with me a quarter of an hour.. . . And we were talking about his cousin, the priest, and how to arrange our marriage.'
'I know he only stayed a quarter of an hour; I saw when he came out. And I'm not jealous, oh, no! But still, I couldn't get to sleep, after that.'
'Why?'
Nezhdanov did not speak.
'I kept thinking . . . thinking . . . thinking!'
'What about?'
'You . . . and him . . . and myself.'
'And what conclusion did you come to?'
'Must I tell you, Marianna?'
'Yes, tell me.'
'I thought that I'm in your way. . . and his . . . and my own.'
'Mine? his? I can fancy what you mean by that, though you do declare you're not jealous. But your own?'
'Marianna, there are two men in me, and one won't let the other live. So that I suppose in fact it would be better for both to cease to live.'
'Come, hush, Alexey, please! What makes you want to torture yourself and me? We ought to be considering now what steps we must take.. . . They won't leave us in peace, you know.'
Nezhdanov took her hand affectionately.
'Sit beside me, Marianna, and let us talk a little, like friends. While there is still time. Give me your hand. I think it would be as well for us to explain ourselves, though, they do say, explanations of all sorts only lead to greater confusion. But you are kind and wise; you will understand it all, and what I don't say out, you will think for yourself. Sit down.'
Nezhdanov's voice was very soft, and a peculiar affectionate tenderness was apparent in his eyes, which were fixed intently on Marianna.
She sat down readily at once beside him and took his hand.
'Thank you, dear one. Now listen. I won't keep you long. I've gone over all I want to say, in my head, during the night. Well, don't think that what happened yesterday has upset me unduly; I was certainly very ridiculous and even a little disgusting; but you thought nothing base or low of me, I know . . . you know me. I said that what happened hasn't upset me; that's not true, it's nonsense . . . it has upset me, not because I was brought home drunk, but because it has been the final proof to me of my failure! And not only because I can't drink as Russians drink, but in everything! everything! Marianna, I'm bound to tell you that I have no faith now in the cause which brought us together; for which we left that house together; to tell the truth, I had grown lukewarm when your enthusiasm warmed me and set me on fire again. I don't believe in it! I don't believe in it!'
He laid the hand that was free over his eyes and was silent for an instant. Marianna too uttered not a word and looked down. . . . She felt that he had told her nothing new.
'I used to think,' Nezhdanov went on, taking his hand away from his eyes, but not looking again at Marianna, 'that I did believe in the cause itself, and only doubted of myself, my own power, my own fitness; my abilities, I thought, do not correspond with my convictions.. . . But it seems these two things can't be separated, and what's the object of deceiving oneself? No, I don't believe in the cause itself. And you do believe in it, Marianna?'
Marianna sat up and raised her head.
'Yes, Alexey, I do believe in it. I believe in it with all the strength of my soul, and I will devote all my life to this cause! To my last breath!'
Nezhdanov turned towards her and scanned her from head to foot in a touched and envious glance.
'Yes, yes; I expected that answer. So you see that there is nothing for us to do in common; you have severed our tie yourself at one blow.'
Marianna did not speak.
'Now Solomin,' began Nezhdanov again, 'though he does not believe. . .'
'What?'
'No! He does not believe . . . but he does not need to; he moves calmly forward. A man going along a road to a town doesn't ask himself whether the town has a real existence. He goes on and on. That's like Solomin. And nothing more's needed. But I . . . can't go forward; I don't want to go back; standing still I'm sick of. Whom could I presume to ask to be my companion? You know the proverb, "One at each end of the pole and the burden is borne easily"; but if one cannot hold up his end, what becomes of the other?'
'Alexey,' Marianna ventured uncertainly, 'I think you are exaggerating. We love one another, don't we?'
Nezhdanov gave a heavy sigh.
'Marianna . . . I revere you . . . and you pity me, and each of us trusts implicitly in the other's honesty; that's the real truth! But there's no love between us.'
'Stop, Alexey, what are you saying? Why, this very day, directly, there will be a search for us.. . . We must set off together, you know, and not part.. . .'
'Yes; and go to the priest Zosim to get him to marry us, as Solomin proposes. I know very well that in your eyes this marriage is nothing but a passport; a means of avoiding annoyance from the police . . . but, nevertheless, it does in a way pledge us . . . to life in common, side by side . . . or if it does not pledge us, at least it presupposes a desire to live together.'
'What do you mean, Alexey? Are you going to stay here?'
'Yes,' all but broke from Nezhdanov's lips, but he recollected himself and said:
'N . . . n . . . no.'
'Then you are going away from here, but not where I go?'
Nezhdanov warmly pressed the hand which still lay in his.
'To leave you without a protector, without a champion, would be a crime, and I won't do that, mean as I may be. You shall have a champion.. . . Do not doubt it!'
Marianna bent down towards Nezhdanov, and, putting her face close to his, tried anxiously to look into his eyes, into his soul—into his very soul.
'What is the matter with you, Alexey? What is in your heart? Tell me! . . . You frighten me. Your words are so enigmatical, so strange.. . . And your face! I have never seen you with such a face!'
Nezhdanov gently turned her away, and gently kissed her hand. This time she did not resist, and did not laugh, and still looked at him with anxiety and alarm.
'Don't alarm yourself, please! There's nothing strange in it. The whole trouble is this: Markelov, they say, was beaten by the peasants; he felt their fists, they bruised his ribs.. . . I've not been beaten by the peasants—they even drank with me, drank my health . . . but they have bruised my soul worse than Markelov's ribs. I was born all out of joint. . . . I tried to set myself right, but only put myself more out of joint than ever. That's just what you see in my face.'
'Alexey,' said Marianna slowly, 'it would be very wrong of you not to be open with me.' He clasped her hands.
'Marianna, my whole being is before you, as it were in your hand; and whatever I do, I tell you beforehand, you will be surprised at nothing, nothing in reality!'
Marianna wanted to ask for an explanation of those words, but she did not ask for it . . . besides, at that instant Solomin came into the room.
His movements were sharper and more rapid than usual. His eyes were screwed up, his wide lips were drawn tight, his whole face looked as it were sharper, and wore a dry, hard, almost surly expression.
'My friends,' he began, 'I've come to tell you that delay's out of the question. Get ready.. . . It's time for you to go. You must be ready within an hour. You must go to your wedding. There's no news whatever from Paklin; his horses were first kept at Arzhano and then sent back.. . . He remained there. Probably they took him to the town. He wouldn't tell tales, of course, but there's no knowing, he might let something out, perhaps. Besides, they might find out from the horses. My cousin has been told to expect you. Pavel will go with you. He will be the witness.'
'And you, Solomin . . . Vassily?' asked Nezhdanov. 'Aren't you coming? I see you're dressed for a journey,' he added, glancing at the high boots Solomin was wearing.
'Oh, I put them on . . . it's muddy out of doors.'
'But aren't you going to answer for us, Vassily?'
'I don't suppose . . . any way, that's my affair. So in an hour's time. Marianna, Tatyana wants to see you. She has been preparing something out there.'
Oh, yes! And I was meaning to go to her. . . .
Marianna was moving to the door.. . .
Something strange, something akin to terror, misery, came out on Nezhdanov's face.. . .
'Marianna, are you going away, dear?' he said suddenly in a failing voice.
She stopped.
'I'll be back in half an hour. It won't take me long to pack.'
'Yes; but come to me.. . .'
'Certainly, what for?'
'I wanted to have one more look at you.' He took a long, slow look at her. 'Good-bye, good-bye, Marianna!'
She was bewildered. 'Why . . . what on earth am I talking about? I'm talking rubbish. Why, you'll be back in half an hour, won't you? Eh?'
'Of course.'
'To be sure. . ., Forgive me. My head's reeling from want of sleep. I too will . . . pack up directly.'
Marianna went out of the room. Solomin was about to follow her.
Nezhdanov stopped him.
'Vassily!'
'Well?'
'Give me your hand. I have to thank you, dear friend, for your hospitality.' Solomin laughed.
'What an idea!' However, he gave him his hand.
'And something more,' Nezhdanov went on: 'if anything happens to me, may I rely on you, Vassily, not to leave Marianna?'
'Your wife that is to be?'
'Yes, Marianna!'
'To begin with, I'm sure nothing will happen to you; but you can set your mind at rest: Marianna is as precious to me as she is to you.'
'Oh! I know that . . . I know that! That's right, then. Thanks. In an hour, then?'
'Yes.'
'I will be ready. Good-bye!'
Solomin went out and overtook Marianna on the stairs. He had it in his mind to say something to her about Nezhdanov, but he was silent. And Marianna on her side was aware that Solomin had it in his mind to speak to her, and about Nezhdanov too, and that he was silent. And she was silent too.