Online reading of the book Dubrovsky * VOLUME TWO *
CHAPTER IX.
On the eve of the holiday, guests began to arrive, some stayed in the manor's house and outbuildings, others with the clerk, others with the priest, and others with wealthy peasants. The stables were full of traveling horses, the courtyards and barns were cluttered with various carriages. At 9 o'clock in the morning they announced mass, and everyone flocked to the new stone church, built by Kiril Petrovich and annually decorated with his offerings. So many honorable pilgrims gathered that ordinary peasants could not fit into the church, and stood on the porch and in the fence. Mass did not begin - they were waiting for Kiril Petrovich. He arrived in a wheeled carriage and solemnly went to his place, accompanied by Maria Kirilovna. The eyes of men and women turned to her; the first were surprised at her beauty, the second carefully examined her outfit. Mass began, the household singers sang in the choir, Kirila Petrovich himself pulled him up, prayed, not looking to the right or to the left, and with proud humility bowed to the ground when the deacon loudly mentioned the builder of this temple.
Mass is over. Kirila Petrovich was the first to approach the cross. Everyone followed him, then the neighbors approached him with respect. The ladies surrounded Masha. Kirila Petrovich, leaving the church, invited everyone to his place for dinner, got into the carriage and went home. Everyone went after him. The rooms were filled with guests. New faces entered every minute, and they could force their way to the owner. The ladies sat down in a decorous semicircle, dressed in belated fashion, in worn and expensive clothes, all in pearls and diamonds, the men crowded around the caviar and vodka, talking to each other with noisy disagreement. A table for 80 cutlery was set in the hall. The servants bustled about, arranging bottles and decanters and adjusting the tablecloths. Finally, the butler announced: the meal has been set, and Kirila Petrovich was the first to go sit down at the table, the ladies moved behind him and took their places importantly, observing a certain seniority, the young ladies crowded together like a timid herd of goats and chose their places one next to the other. The men stood opposite them. The teacher sat down at the end of the table next to little Sasha.
The servants began to carry the plates to ranks, in case of confusion, guided by Lavater's guesses, and almost always without error. The clinking of plates and spoons merged with the noisy chatter of the guests, Kirila Petrovich cheerfully surveyed his meal, and fully enjoyed the happiness of the hospitable man. At this time, a carriage drawn by six horses drove into the yard.
- Who is this? - asked the owner.
“Anton Pafnutich,” answered several voices. The doors opened, and Anton Pafnutich Spitsyn, a fat man of about 50, with a round and pockmarked face adorned with a triple chin, burst into the dining room bowing, smiling, and already about to apologize...
“The device is here,” Kirila Petrovich shouted, “you are welcome, Anton Pafnutich, sit down, and tell us what this means: you were not at my mass and were late for dinner.” This is not like you, you are both religious and love food.
“It’s my fault,” answered Anton Pafnutich, tying a napkin into the buttonhole of his pea caftan, “it’s my fault, Father Kirila Petrovich, I set off on the road early, but didn’t even have time to drive ten miles, suddenly the tire on the front wheel was split in half - what do you order?” Fortunately, it was not far from the village - by the time we dragged ourselves to it, found a blacksmith, and somehow sorted everything out, it took exactly 3 hours - there was nothing to do. I didn’t dare take the short route through the Kistenevsky forest, but took a detour...
- Hey! - Kirila Petrovich interrupted, - you know, you’re not one of the brave ten; what are you afraid of.
- I’m afraid of something, Father Kirila Petrovich, but of Dubrovsky; You'll soon fall into his clutches. He's no slouch, he won't let anyone down, and he'll probably rip two of my skins off.
- Why, brother, is there such a difference?
- Why for what, Father Kirila Petrovich? and for the litigation of the deceased Andrei Gavrilovich. Was it not I who, for your pleasure, that is, in conscience and justice, showed that the Dubrovskys own Kistenevka without any right to do so, but solely out of your condescension? And the deceased (may he rest in heaven) promised to communicate with me in his own way, and my son, perhaps, will keep his father’s word. Until now, God has been merciful. “They just looted one of my hangars, and before long they’ll get to the estate.”
“And in the estate they will have freedom,” remarked Kirila Petrovich, “I have a red box full of tea...”
- Where, Father Kirila Petrovich. It was full, but now it’s completely empty!
– Stop lying, Anton Pafnutich. We know you; where should you spend your money, you live like a pig at home, you don’t accept anyone, you rip off your men, you know, you save and that’s all.
“You all deign to joke, Father Kirila Petrovich,” Anton Pafnutich muttered with a smile, “but by God, we went broke,” and Anton Pafnutich began to eat up the master’s lordly joke with a fat piece of kulebyaki. Kirila Petrovich left him and turned to the new police officer, who had come to visit him for the first time, and was sitting at the other end of the table next to the teacher.
- So, will you at least catch Dubrovsky, Mr. Police Officer?
The police officer got cold feet, bowed, smiled, stuttered and finally said:
– We will try, Your Excellency.
- Hm, we'll try. They've been trying for a long, long time, but it still doesn't do any good. Yes, really, why catch him? Dubrovsky's robberies are a blessing for police officers - travel, investigations, carts, and money in your pocket. How can such a benefactor be known? Isn't it true, Mr. Police Officer?
“The absolute truth, your Excellency,” answered the completely embarrassed police officer.
The guests laughed.
“I love the fellow for his sincerity,” said Kirila Petrovich, and it’s a pity for our late police officer Taras Alekseevich - if they hadn’t burned him, it would have been quieter in the neighborhood. What have you heard about Dubrovsky? where was he last seen?
“At my place, Kirila Petrovich,” squeaked a thick lady’s voice, “he dined with me last Tuesday...
All eyes turned to Anna Savishna Globova, a rather simple widow, beloved by everyone for her kind and cheerful disposition. Everyone prepared to hear her story with curiosity.
“You need to know that three weeks ago I sent a clerk to the post office with money for my Vanyusha. I don’t spoil my son, and I’m not able to spoil my son, even if I wanted to; however, please know for yourself: a guard officer needs to support himself in a decent manner, and Vanyusha and I share my income as best I can. So I sent him 2,000 rubles, even though Dubrovsky came to my mind more than once, but I thought: the city is close, only 7 miles, maybe God will carry it through. I saw my clerk returning in the evening, pale, ragged and on foot - I just gasped. - What's happened? what happened to you? He told me: Mother Anna Savishna - Robbers robbed; They almost killed me - Dubrovsky himself was here, he wanted to hang me, but he took pity on me and let me go - for that he robbed me of everything - he took away both the horse and the cart. I froze; My heavenly king, what will happen to my Vanyusha? There is nothing to do: I wrote a letter to my son, told him everything and sent him my blessing without a penny of money.
A week passed, then another - suddenly a stroller drove into my yard. Some general asks to see me: you are welcome; A man about 35 years old, dark-skinned, black-haired, with a mustache and beard, a real portrait of Kulnev, comes up to me, recommended to me as a friend and colleague of the late husband Ivan Andreevich: he was driving past and could not help but stop by his widow, knowing that I I live here. I treated him to what God had sent, we talked about this and that, and finally about Dubrovsky. I told him my grief. My general frowned. “This is strange,” he said, “I heard that Dubrovsky attacks not just everyone, but famous rich people, but even here he shares with them, and does not rob completely, and no one accuses him of murders, is there any trickery here, order?” - Call your clerk. - Send for the clerk, he appeared; As soon as he saw the general, he was dumbfounded. “Tell me, brother, how Dubrovsky robbed you, and how he wanted to hang you.” My clerk trembled and fell at the general’s feet. - Father, it’s my fault - it was a sin - I was confused - I lied. “If that’s the case,” answered the general, “then please tell the lady how the whole thing happened, and I’ll listen.” The clerk could not come to his senses. “Well,” the general continued, “tell me: where did you meet Dubrovsky?” - At two pines, father, at two pines. - “What did he tell you?” “He asked me whose you are, where are you going and why?” - “Well, what about after?” “And then he demanded a letter and money. - "Well". “I gave him the letter and the money. - "And he? - Well, what about him? - Father, it’s my fault. - “Well, what did he do?” “He returned the money and the letter to me and said: God bless you – give it to the post office.” - "Well, what about you?"
- Father, it’s my fault. “I’ll handle it with you, my dear,” the general said menacingly, “and you, madam, order a search of this swindler’s chest, and hand him over to me, and I’ll teach him a lesson.” Know that Dubrovsky himself was a guards officer; he will not want to offend his comrade.” I guessed who His Excellency was; I had no need to talk to him about it. The coachmen tied the clerk to the carriage's goats. The money was found; the general dined with me, then immediately left and took the clerk with him. My steward was found the next day in the forest, tied to an oak tree and skinned like a stick.
Everyone listened in silence to Anna Savishna's story, especially the young lady. Many of them secretly wished him well, seeing him as a romantic hero - especially Marya Kirilovna, an ardent dreamer, imbued with the mysterious horrors of Radcliffe.
“And you, Anna Savishna, believe that you had Dubrovsky himself,” asked Kirila Petrovich. - You were very mistaken. I don’t know who was your guest, but not Dubrovsky.
- Why, father, not Dubrovsky, and who else if not him, will drive out onto the road and begin to stop passers-by and inspect them.
– I don’t know, and certainly not Dubrovsky. I remember him as a child, I don’t know if his hair turned black, and then he was a curly, blond boy - but I know for sure that Dubrovsky is five years older than my Masha, and that, therefore, he is not 35 years old, but about 23.
“Exactly so, Your Excellency,” declared the police officer, and I have in my pocket the signs of Vladimir Dubrovsky. They definitely say that he is 23 years old.
- A! - said Kirila Petrovich, - by the way: read it, and we’ll listen, it’s not bad for us to know his signs, maybe he catches your eye, it won’t turn out that way.
The police officer took a rather soiled piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it with importance and began to recite it.
“Signs of Vladimir Dubrovsky, compiled from the tales of his former courtyard people.
“23 years old, average height, clean face, shaves his beard, has brown eyes, light brown hair, straight nose. There are special signs: there were none.”
“And that’s all,” said Kirila Petrovich.
“Only,” answered the police officer, folding the paper.
- Congratulations, Mr. Police Officer. Oh yes paper! Based on these signs, it will not be surprising for you to find Dubrovsky. But who is not of average height, who does not have brown hair, a straight nose, and brown eyes? I bet you will talk to Dubrovsky himself for 3 hours straight, and you won’t guess who God brought you together with. There is nothing to say, they are smart little heads.
The police officer humbly put his paper in his pocket and silently began to eat the goose and cabbage. Meanwhile, the servants had already walked around the guests several times, pouring each one his glass. Several bottles of Gorskoye and Tsimlyanskoye had already been loudly uncorked and accepted favorably under the name of champagne, faces began to blush, conversations became louder, more incoherent and more fun.
“No,” continued Kirila Petrovich, “we will never see such a police officer as the deceased Taras Alekseevich was!” This one was no mistake, no mistake. It’s a pity that they burned the fellow, otherwise not a single person in the whole gang would have left him. He would have caught every single one of them - and Dubrovsky himself would not have wriggled out and paid off. Taras Alekseevich would have taken the money from him, but he wouldn’t have let him go - that was the custom of the deceased. There is nothing to do, apparently, I should intervene in this matter and go after the robbers with my family. In the first case, I’ll detach about twenty people, and they’ll clear out the thieves’ grove; The people are not cowardly, everyone goes after a bear alone - they won’t back away from the robbers.
“Is your bear healthy, Father Kirila Petrovich,” said Anton Pafnutich, remembering with these words about his shaggy acquaintance and about some jokes, of which he himself was once a victim.
“Misha ordered me to live long,” answered Kirila Petrovich. - He died a glorious death, at the hands of the enemy. There’s his winner,” Kirila Petrovich pointed to Deforge; - exchange the image of my Frenchman. He avenged your... if I may say so... Do you remember?
“How can I not remember,” said Anton Pafnutich, scratching himself, “I remember very much.” So Misha died. I feel sorry for Misha, I swear to God! what a funny man he was! what a clever girl! You won’t find another bear like this. Why did Monsieur kill him?
Kirila Petrovich began to tell with great pleasure the feat of his Frenchman, for he had the happy ability to be proud of everything that surrounded him. The guests listened with attention to the story of Misha's death, and looked with amazement at Deforge, who, not suspecting that the conversation was about his courage, sat calmly in his place and made moral comments to his frisky pupil.
Lunch, which lasted about 3 hours, was over; the owner put the napkin on the table - everyone got up and went into the living room, where coffee, cards and the continuation of the drinking session that had so nicely begun in the dining room awaited them.
Literature. 6th grade (1 part) Dubrovsky. Chapter VIII
| Chapter VIII ... Kirila Petrovich sent a French teacher from Moscow for his little Sasha, who arrived in Pokrovskoye during the incidents we are now describing. Kirila Petrovich liked this teacher with his pleasant appearance and simple manner. He presented Kirila Petrovich with his certificates1 and a letter from one of Troekurov’s relatives, with whom he lived as a tutor for four years. Kirila Petrovich reviewed all this and was dissatisfied with the youth of his Frenchman - not because he would consider this amiable shortcoming incompatible with the patience and experience so necessary in the unfortunate title of teacher, but he had his own doubts, which he immediately decided to explain to him. For this purpose, he ordered Masha to be called to him (Kirila Petrovich did not speak French, and she served as his translator). - Come here, Masha; tell this monsieur that, so be it, I accept him; only so that he doesn’t dare to trail after my girls, otherwise I’ll be his son of a dog... translate this to him, Masha. Masha blushed and, turning to the teacher, told him in French that her father hoped for his modesty and decent behavior. The Frenchman bowed to her and replied that he hoped to earn respect, even if they denied him favor. Masha translated his answer word for word. “Okay, okay,” said Kirila Petrovich, “he doesn’t need any favor or respect.” His job is to follow Sasha and teach him grammar and geography, translate it to him. Marya Kirilovna softened her father's rude expressions in her translation, and Kirila Petrovich sent his Frenchman to the outbuilding3 where he was assigned a room. Masha did not pay any attention to the young Frenchman; brought up in aristocratic prejudices, the teacher was for her a kind of servant or artisan, and the servant or artisan did not seem to her to be a man. She did not notice the impression she made on Deforge’s mr4, nor his embarrassment, nor his trepidation, nor his changed voice. For several days in a row then she met him quite often, without deigning to pay more attention. Unexpectedly, she received a completely new concept about him. where Kirila Petrovich spent hours fiddling with them, pitting them against cats and puppies. Having matured, they were put on a chain, awaiting real persecution. Occasionally they were taken out to the windows of the manor's house and an empty wine barrel studded with nails was rolled up for them; the bear sniffed her, then quietly touched her, pricked his paws, angrily pushed her harder, and the pain became stronger. He would fly into a complete rage and rush at the barrel with a roar until the object of his futile rage was taken away from the poor beast. It happened that a couple of bears were harnessed to a cart, and, willy-nilly, they put guests in it and let them ride to the will of God. But Kirila Petrovich’s best joke was the following. They used to lock a hungry bear in an empty room, tying it with a rope to a ring screwed into the wall. The rope was almost the length of the entire room, so that only the opposite corner could be safe from the attack of a terrible beast. They usually brought the newcomer to the door of this room, accidentally pushed him towards the bear, the doors were locked, and the unfortunate victim was left alone with the shaggy hermit. The poor guest, with his shirt torn and scratched to the point of blood, soon found a safe corner, but was sometimes forced to stand for three whole hours, pressed against the wall, and see how an enraged animal two steps away from him roared, jumped, reared, tore and tried to reach him. Such were the noble amusements of the Russian master! A few days after the teacher’s arrival, Troekurov remembered him and intended to treat him in the bear’s room: for this purpose, calling him one morning, he led him along dark corridors; suddenly the side door opened, two servants pushed the Frenchman into it and locked it with a key. Having come to his senses, the teacher saw a tied bear, the animal began to snort, sniffing its guest from afar, and suddenly, rising on its hind legs, walked towards him... The Frenchman was not embarrassed, did not run and waited for the attack. The bear approached, Deforge took a small pistol from his pocket, put it in the hungry beast’s ear and fired. The bear fell down. Everyone came running, the doors opened, Kirila Petrovich entered, amazed at the outcome of his joke. Kirila Petrovich certainly wanted an explanation for the whole matter: who told Deforge about the joke prepared for him, or why he had a loaded pistol in his pocket. He sent for Masha. Masha came running and translated her father’s questions to the Frenchman. “I have not heard of a bear,” answered Desforges, “but I always carry pistols with me, because I do not intend to endure an insult for which, according to my rank, I cannot demand satisfaction.” Masha looked at him in amazement and translated his words to Kirila Petrovich. Kirila Petrovich did not answer anything, he ordered to pull out the bear and skin it; then, turning to his people, he said: “What a fellow! I didn’t chicken out, by God, I didn’t chicken out.” From that moment he fell in love with Deforge and never thought of trying him. But this incident made an even greater impression on Marya Kirilovna. Her imagination was amazed: she saw a dead bear and Deforge calmly standing over it and calmly talking to her. She saw that courage and proud pride do not exclusively belong to one class5 Notes 1Certificates - here: documents. 2—an educator, and sometimes a teacher (usually a foreigner), who was hired by rich people for their children. 3An outbuilding is a side extension attached to the main building or a house in the courtyard of a large building. 4—Monsieur (Mr.) (French). 5That is, the nobles.
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