Knock, Knock, Knock and Other Stories Read online

  big and round and yellow and flat, and it seemed to me that it was

  staring at me, it really did. And so insolently, so persistently.... I

  put out my tongue at it at last, I really did. What are you so

  inquisitive about? I thought. I turned away from it and it seemed to

  be creeping into my ear and shining on the back of my head, so that I

  felt caught in it as in rain; I opened my eyes and every blade of

  grass, every paltry being in the hay, the most flimsy spider's web--all

  were standing out as though they were chiselled! As though asking

  to be looked at! There was no help for it: I leaned my head on my hand

  and began gazing. And I couldn't help it: would you believe it: my

  eyes bulged out like a hare's; they opened so wide--as though they did

  not know what sleep was! It seemed as though I would devour it all

  with my eyes. The doors of the barn were wide open; I could see for

  four miles into the open country, distinctly and yet not, as it always

  is on a moonlight night. I gazed and gazed without blinking.... And

  all at once it seemed as though something were moving, far, far

  away ... like a faint glimmer in the distance. A little time passed:

  again the shadow stirred--now a little nearer; then again nearer still.

  'What can it be?' I wondered, 'a hare, no,' I thought, 'it is bigger

  than a hare and its action is not the same.' I looked, and again the

  shadow came in sight, and was moving across the grazing meadow (the

  meadow looked whitish in the moonlight) like a big blur; it was clear

  that it was a wild animal, a fox or a wolf. My heart seemed to stand

  still ... though one might wonder why I was frightened. All sorts of

  wild creatures run about the fields at night. But curiosity was even

  stronger than fear. I sat up, I opened my eyes wide and I turned cold

  all over. I felt frozen, as though I had been thrust into the ice, up

  to my ears, and why? The Lord only knows! And I saw the shadow growing

  and growing, so it was running straight towards the barn. And I began

  to realise that it certainly was a wild beast, big, with a huge

  head.... He flew like a whirlwind, like a bullet.... Holy saints! what

  was it? He stopped all at once, as though he scented something.... Why

  it was ... the same mad dog! It was ... it was! Heavens! And I could

  not stir, I could not cry out.... It darted to the doors, with

  glittering eyes, howled and dashed through the hay straight at me!

  "Out of the hay like a lion leapt my Trésor, here he was. They hung on

  to each other's jaws and rolled on the ground. What happened then I

  don't remember; all I remember is that I flew headlong between them

  into the garden, and home and into my bedroom and almost crept under

  the bed--why not make a clean breast of it? And what leaps, what

  bounds I took in the garden! The prémiere danseuse dancing

  before the Emperor Napoleon on his nameday couldn't have kept pace

  with me. However, when I had recovered myself a little, I roused the

  whole household; I ordered them all to arm themselves, I myself took a

  sword and a revolver (I bought that revolver, I must own, soon after

  the emancipation, you know, in case anything should happen, but it

  turned out the man who sold it was such a rogue--it would be sure to

  miss fire twice out of every three shots). Well, I took all this and

  so we went, a regular horde of us with stakes and lanterns, to the

  barn. We approached and called--there was not a sound; at last we went

  into the barn.... And what did we see? My poor Trésor lay dead with

  his throat torn open, and of the other, the damned brute, not a trace

  to be seen!

  "And then, gentlemen, I howled like a calf and I am not ashamed to say

  so; I stooped down to the friend who had saved my life twice over and

  kissed his head, again and again. And I stayed in that position until

  my old housekeeper, Praskovya (she, too, had run in at the uproar),

  brought me to my senses. 'How can you, Porfiry Kapitonitch,' she said,

  'distress yourself so about a dog? And you will catch cold, too, God

  forbid.' (I was very lightly clad.) 'And if this dog has lost his life

  in saving you, it may be taken as a great blessing vouchsafed him!'

  "Though I did not agree with Praskovya, I went home. And next day a

  soldier of the garrison shot the mad dog. And it must have been its

  destined end: it was the first time in his life that the soldier had

  fired a gun, though he had a medal for service in 1812. So this was

  the supernatural incident that happened to me."

  The speaker ceased and began filling his pipe. We all looked at each

  other in amazement.

  "Well, perhaps, you have led a very virtuous life," Mr. Finoplentov

  began, "so in recompense..."

  But he broke off at that word, for he saw Porfiry Kapitonitch's cheeks

  grow round and flushed while his eyes screwed up--he was on the point

  of breaking into a guffaw.

  "But if one admits the possibility of the supernatural, the

  possibility of its participation in everyday life, so to say," Anton

  Stepanitch began again, "then allow me to ask, what becomes of common

  sense?"

  None of us found anything to say in reply and we remained in

  perplexity as before.

  1866.

  THE WATCH

  AN OLD MAN'S STORY

  I

  I will tell you my adventures with a watch. It is a curious story.

  It happened at the very beginning of this century, in 1801. I had just

  reached my sixteenth year. I was living at Ryazan in a little wooden

  house not far from the bank of the river Oka with my father, my aunt

  and my cousin; my mother I do not remember; she died three years after

  her marriage; my father had no other children. His name was Porfiry

  Petrovitch. He was a quiet man, sickly and unattractive in appearance;

  he was employed in some sort of legal and--other--business. In old

  days such were called attorneys, sharpers, nettle-seeds; he called

  himself a lawyer. Our domestic life was presided over by his sister,

  my aunt, an old maiden lady of fifty; my father, too, had passed his

  fourth decade. My aunt was very pious, or, to speak bluntly, she was a

  canting hypocrite and a chattering magpie, who poked her nose into

  everything; and, indeed, she had not a kind heart like my father. We

  were not badly off, but had nothing to spare. My father had a brother

  called Yegor; but he had been sent to Siberia in the year 1797 for

  some "seditious acts and Jacobin tendencies" (those were the words of

  the accusation).

  Yegor's son David, my cousin, was left on my father's hands and lived

  with us. He was only one year older than I; but I respected him and

  obeyed him as though he were quite grown up. He was a sensible fellow

  with character; in appearance, thick-set and broad-shouldered with a

  square face covered with freckles, with red hair, small grey eyes,

  thick lips, a short nose, and short fingers--a sturdy lad, in

  fact--and strong for his age! My aunt could not endure him; my father

  was positively afraid of him ... or perhaps he felt himself to blame

  towards him. There was a rumour that, if m
y father had not given his

  brother away, David's father would not have been sent to Siberia. We

  were both at the high school and in the same class and both fairly

  high up in it; I was, indeed, a little better at my lessons than

  David. I had a good memory but boys--as we all know!--do not think

  much of such superiority, and David remained my leader.

  II

  My name--you know--is Alexey. I was born on the seventh of March and

  my name-day is the seventeenth. In accordance with the old-fashioned

  custom, I was given the name of the saint whose festival fell on the

  tenth day after my birth. My godfather was a certain Anastasy

  Anastasyevitch Putchkov, or more exactly Nastasey Nastasyeitch, for

  that was what everyone called him. He was a terribly shifty,

  pettifogging knave and bribe-taker--a thoroughly bad man; he had been

  turned out of the provincial treasury and had had to stand his trial

  on more than one occasion; he was often of use to my father.... They

  used to "do business" together. In appearance he was a round, podgy

  figure; and his face was like a fox's with a nose like an owl's. His

  eyes were brown, bright, also like a fox's, and he was always moving

  them, those eyes, to right and to left, and he twitched his nose, too,

  as though he were sniffing the air. He wore shoes without heels, and

  wore powder every day, which was looked upon as very exceptional in

  the provinces. He used to declare that he could not go without powder

  as he had to associate with generals and their ladies. Well, my

  name-day had come. Nastasey Nastasyeitch came to the house and said:

  "I have never made you a present up to now, godson, but to make up for

  that, look what a fine thing I have brought you to-day."

  And he took out of his pocket a silver watch, a regular turnip, with a

  rose tree engraved on the face and a brass chain. I was overwhelmed

  with delight, while my aunt, Pelageya Petrovna, shouted at the top of

  her voice:

  "Kiss his hand, kiss his hand, dirty brat!"

  I proceeded to kiss my godfather's hand, while my aunt went piping on:

  "Oh, Nastasey Nastasyeitch! Why do you spoil him like this? How can he

  take care of a watch? He will be sure to drop it, break it, or spoil

  it."

  My father walked in, looked at the watch, thanked Nastasey

  Nastasyeitch--somewhat carelessly, and invited him to his study. And I

  heard my father say, as though to himself:

  "If you think to get off with that, my man...." But I could not

  stay still. I put on the watch and rushed headlong to show my present

  to David.

  III

  David took the watch, opened it and examined it attentively. He had

  great mechanical ability; he liked having to do with iron, copper, and

  metals of all sorts; he had provided himself with various instruments,

  and it was nothing for him to mend or even to make a screw, a key or

  anything of that kind.

  David turned the watch about in his hands and muttering through his

  teeth (he was not talkative as a rule):

  "Oh ... poor ..." added, "where did you get it?"

  I told him that my godfather had given it me.

  David turned his little grey eyes upon me:

  "Nastasey?"

  "Yes, Nastasey Nastasyeitch."

  David laid the watch on the table and walked away without a word.

  "Do you like it?" I asked.

  "Well, it isn't that.... But if I were you, I would not take any sort

  of present from Nastasey."

  "Why?"

  "Because he is a contemptible person; and you ought not to be under an

  obligation to a contemptible person. And to say thank you to him, too.

  I suppose you kissed his hand?"

  "Yes, Aunt made me."

  David grinned--a peculiar grin--to himself. That was his way. He never

  laughed aloud; he considered laughter a sign of feebleness.

  David's words, his silent grin, wounded me deeply. "So he inwardly

  despises me," I thought. "So I, too, am contemptible in his eyes. He

  would never have stooped to this himself! He would not have accepted

  presents from Nastasey. But what am I to do now?"

  Give back the watch? Impossible!

  I did try to talk to David, to ask his advice. He told me that he

  never gave advice to anyone and that I had better do as I thought

  best. As I thought best!! I remember I did not sleep all night

  afterwards: I was in agonies of indecision. I was sorry to lose the

  watch--I had laid it on the little table beside my bed; its ticking

  was so pleasant and amusing ... but to feel that David despised me

  (yes, it was useless to deceive myself, he did despise me) ... that

  seemed to me unbearable. Towards morning a determination had taken

  shape in me ... I wept, it is true--but I fell asleep upon it, and as

  soon as I woke up, I dressed in haste and ran out into the street. I

  had made up my mind to give my watch to the first poor person I met.

  IV

  I had not run far from home when I hit upon what I was looking for. I

  came across a barelegged boy of ten, a ragged urchin, who was often

  hanging about near our house. I dashed up to him at once and, without

  giving him or myself time to recover, offered him my watch.

  The boy stared at me round-eyed, put one hand before his mouth, as

  though he were afraid of being scalded--and held out the other.

  "Take it, take it," I muttered, "it's mine, I give it you, you can

  sell it, and buy yourself ... something you want.... Good-bye."

  I thrust the watch into his hand--and went home at a gallop. Stopping

  for a moment at the door of our common bedroom to recover my breath, I

  went up to David who had just finished dressing and was combing his

  hair.

  "Do you know what, David?" I said in as unconcerned a tone as I could,

  "I have given away Nastasey's watch."

  David looked at me and passed the brush over his temples.

  "Yes," I added in the same businesslike voice, "I have given it away.

  There is a very poor boy, a beggar, you know, so I have given it to

  him."

  David put down the brush on the washing-stand.

  "He can buy something useful," I went on, "with the money he can get

  for it. Anyway, he will get something for it."

  I paused.

  "Well," David said at last, "that's a good thing," and he went off to

  the schoolroom. I followed him.

  "And if they ask you what you have done with it?" he said, turning to

  me.

  "I shall tell them I've lost it," I answered carelessly.

  No more was said about the watch between us that day; but I had the

  feeling that David not only approved of what I had done but ... was to

  some extent surprised by it. He really was!

  V

  Two days more passed. It happened that no one in the house thought of

  the watch. My father was taken up with a very serious unpleasantness

  with one of his clients; he had no attention to spare for me or my

  watch. I, on the other hand, thought of it without ceasing! Even the

  approval ... the presumed approval of David did not quite comfort me.

  He did not show it in any special way: the only thing he said, and

  that casua
lly, was that he hadn't expected such recklessness of me.

  Certainly I was a loser by my sacrifice: it was not counter-balanced