The cruel city

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

Dimitry Grigoroyitch,

I. En Route for the Capital, 1

Chapter I. En Route For Tiie Capital

Nikolai Steparovitcii FouFLioumE was ruined. His little property had passed into the hands of strangers, and all that was left to him to face the world with was three thousand rubles in money. True, he had an offer from his uncle Petrovitch to work in his distillery, but to a man who had occupied always a high position in provincial society, the idea of such a fall was not to be considered. Besides, he had many relations in St. Petersburg, and so had his wife, and they had all urged him to bring on his family, and it would be the easiest thing in the world for a man of his ability to step into a respectable and well-paid position.

So the entire family of Foufliguine ap- 1

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peared one morning in the depot at Moscow, prepared for the momentous journey to the capital.

The family was not numerous. It was composed of his wife, a pretty woman elegantly, in fact too elegantly, dressed, and the two children, named Lech a and Pacha. Ten o’clock had not sounded when Foufliguine presented himself at the door of the great hall where the baggage was dispatched and tickets distributed. Travelers were as yet far from numerous. They were mostly the servants who arrived with the baggage of their masters, and several old ladies who, traveling for the first time, had been in a state of worry for the past three days for fear the train would go without them if they did not arrive at the depot before eight o’clock. But Nikolai Foufliguine seemed to think that there was too much of a crowd. He was literally crushed under the weight of sacks and large and small packages with which he was loaded. The physical weight played a small part. The real suffering was moral !

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It was really an embarrassing position for a man who, up to that time, had lived in his own house, surrounded by his serfs, and who could not pick up a handkerchief or take a cigar without the help of a domestic. Imagine how ill at ease he felt, charged with a mass of packages. As he was not accustomed to be thus loaded down, he tried to support them by his shoulders or his chest to prevent everything from tumbling on the ground.

She carried nothing. She advanced with an easy step, clad in her velvet mantle, her head crowned with a rose-colored bonnet, holding the two children by the hand. What embarrassed her was the proximity of her husband, who puffed and groaned beneath his burden. Hardly had they entered the hall when she disappeared, dragging the children by their arms. One might have taken Sophia Petrovna for a woman of the world, who was out taking a walk with her children, or had come to see one of her friends off. Nikolai Stepanovitch, who had entirely

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lost sight of them, turned sharply and broke one of his packages. A mass of little pates and sandwiches rolled on the floor.

“Papa, papa, you are losing the pates,” cried Lech a.

“ Be still ! ” murmured Sophia Petrovna, drawing the child to her and looking around affrightedly.

“ Oh ! Oh ! All the sandwiches are rolling away ! Mamma, look at the sandwiches ! ” cried still louder little Pacha,

“ Be still ! ”

“ My dear ! ” murmured Nikolai Stepanovitch, at the same time sustaining with his right shoulder the provisions, which continued to tumble off on all sides.

Sophia Petrovna was obliged to approach her husband.

“ My dear, you have a talent for making me carry a lot of useless things,” said the husband, in an irritated tone, while his wife hid the unhappy packages under her mantle. “ Where are we going to place all these bundles? You might at least carry this band-

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box — ouf ! This way, my friends, this way,” he cried excitedly, seeing two soldiers pass with tlieir trunks. “ Follow me — you, my dear, go and sit down on a bench with the children. I will come back directly when I have registered the trunks.”

Nikolai Stepanovitch seized his numerous bundles and followed the soldiers toward the middle of the hall, where a crowd of travelers were waiting their turn to buy tickets.

“ Permit me, permit me,” cried Nikolai Stepanovitch, trying to crowd in ahead of the others.

“ There are people here before you. The train is not going right off. You can wait a little,” responded a merchant with a long beard, who did not budge from his position.

“ My wife and children are waiting. I am in a hurry,” insisted Foufliguine, trying to advance by force.

“ The others are in just as much of a hurry as you,” replied the merchant coarsely, barring his passage.

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“ Dear friend,” cried Nikolai Stepanovitcli to tlie soldier wlio had charge of the trunks while regarding him amiably, “ can we not move faster ? ”

“ Have the goodness to wait. Those who arrive first, have the first chance,” responded the soldier.

The face of Nikolai Stepanovitcli generally wore an expression of good nature, but at that moment it did not wear an amiable appearance toward his neighbor.

He had laid his packages on the floor and looked around him. No one seemed to be paying any attention. Some were occupied with their baggage, others chatted with their relations who accompanied them, others embraced each other weeping, and still others amused themselves while laughing loudly. From a corner one heard the pounding of the stamp on the tickets. Further, the jingle of money where the travelers were paying for their places. Some walked about ; there was chattering from all sides, each one occupying himself with his own affairs.

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At last the turn of Nikolai Stepanovitch arrived. His trunks disappeared and lie approached the grille where the ticket-seller was seated. The face of Nicolai Stepanovitch assumed an amiable expression.

“ Those are my trunks,” he said, smiling upon the employee. “ The baggage of the Proprietor Fouiliguine,” holding up his head proudly.

“ That is all indifferent to me,” said the ticket-seller in a dry voice.

“ Still ”

“ Eleven rubles thirty kopecks,” interrupted the employee, without raising his eyes, as he slapped down three tickets. Nikolai Stepanovitch, greatly wounded by this lack of respect, put his hand in his pocket and took out the sum demanded.

“ It is easy to see that no politeness is shown here to people of a certain position,” he remarked, casting a look full of dignity toward the grille and bowing his head.

“Two rubles eighty kopecks,” continued the employee, addressing the next traveler,

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without paying the slightest -attention to the words of Foufliguine.

Nikolai Stepanovitch thought it best to go away, and began to arrange in order the bankbills in his pocket-book. Foufliguine was a man of moderate height and above middle age. His head was bald, surrounded by little blond curls. He had lost most of his hair very young, which prompted his mother to say that he would some day be a great diplomat. I do not know how far his mother was right, but this I can affirm, that Nikolai Stepanovitch was the most confiding and easy-going man that you could imagine, and that all the world ruled him, beginning with his wife and ending with his valet, Kariton, whose loss had been cruel for him.

With his round face always carefully shaven, Nikolai Stepanovitch would have been agreeable looking had it not been for his expression of perpetual astonishment. He had an air of being always busy, when really his worry had only begun that very morning when obliged to carry so many packages.

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His ideas, too, were somewhat confused. They followed each other without order, and one displaced the other — so much so that people said his head was filled with billiard balls that rolled on all sides — or a wheel, in which a squirrel was always dancing.

He would not think of making the trip in the ordinary costume he wore in the country. On the contrary, he had dressed himself carefully — a brown coat, striped pantaloons; and a black cravat which did not entirely hide his irreproachable collar and shirt. Even his hat showed that Nikolai Stepanovitcli preferred the elegant emporium to the little stores of his native town.

“ What a lot of money I have spent already. I can hardly believe it. It is terrible ! Thirteen rubles for each person makes fifty-two rubles. It is terrible ! Then the carriages, the dinners ! ”

As he spoke he closed his pocket-book and picked up his valise. The other bundles he had placed in the bags and sent to the baggage-room. Then he rejoined his wife.

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In seeing her husband enter with only one valise, Sophia Petrovna smiled upon him agreeably.

“ Well, have you disposed of everything?” she asked.

“ Yes,” trying to give his face an expression of sadness. “ Only, my dear, it is really terrible. Just imagine ! They took nearly forty rubles ! ”

“ Impossible ! ”

“ Yes,” seating himself beside his wife. u We have already spent enormously. If we have still fifty-two rubles to pay for our tickets — wouldn’t it be better ”

“ I know in advance what you are going to say.”

“Yes, my dear, yes. Better let us take tickets for the — bah ! it is only prejudice.”

“ You wish me to travel with peasants,” interrupted his wife, in a tone that was not entirely gracious.

“ But, I assure you, my dear, that it is only prejudice. Many nice people travel that way — my friend Schilokvastoff always, and many

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nice ladies. The places are now very well arranged. Windows everywhere, clean, well varnished ; I assure you we can accomplish our journey very well that way.”

“ And I repeat that your peasants have al ready made me sick enough of the country.”

“ My dear,” cried her husband, “ I repeat to you that they are not all peasants. And besides, what difference does it make ? Am I not with you. Just think, no one knows us here, and we shall save something. We need to save. Think of our situation. We have much more money to spend. Try and conquer your prejudices — and your toilette — you will have need of much money for your costumes at St. Petersburg. Those are indispensable expenses.”

“ Very well — but if a single peasant ”

“ We will immediately change our places,” replied Foufliguine in a decided voice, and taking up his valise he moved away, followed by his wife and children.

All along the way until they reached the passage which led to the third-class waiting-

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room, Nikolai Stepanovitch could not but admire tlie sensible behavior of his wife in accepting places at seven rubles. As they approached the train he darted in quiet glances here and there to see who were to be their fellow-travelers.

“Oh, not for the world,” cried Sophia Petrovna, perceiving about fifty peasants, men and women, pushing and crowding about the windows and doors.

“ Dearest,” murmured Nikolai Stepanovitch, completely upset, “ I swear to you that most of them have come to see their friends off. They are not going with us. Calm yourself. Look ! ” showing a handsome young man with side- whiskers, who was playing with his watch-chain. “ Look,” he said again gayly, nodding toward an officer who stood by the window. “ Those are the real travelers. The others are not going with us.”

Conquered for a second time by the arguments of her husband — the angelic sweetness of Sophia Petrovna was certainly the result

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of a calculation regarding a costume or a mantle which she meant to buy at St. Petersburg — she consented to remain in the room while her husband went off to buy the tickets.

After being pushed and jabbed in the ribs by several sharp elbows, he heard some one say that the train would start in a few moments. He took the tickets and rejoined his wife, completely upset.

“ Nikolai ! ” cried a voice behind him.

He turned and saw his wife running toward him.

“ What is it ? ” he asked.

“ Let us leave here at once. I would not stay for the world. Do you hear ? ”

“ But I have bought the tickets.”

“ That makes no difference.”

“ But what is the matter, in the name of Heaven ? ” looking around on all sides.

“ Not here — there,” pointing to the first room, where her husband had left her.

“ Well, what — who is it ? ”

“ The wife of our druggist is there. She

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leaves with us. Not for anything in the world would I travel with ”

“ But, great heavens ! What is to be done ? The tickets are taken. They will not give me back the money.”

“ Do as you please, but I will not remain,” said Sophia Petrovna, in a decided tone ; and, taking by the hand Lecha and Pacha, who did not understand where they were going, she led them toward the entrance.

Nikolai Stepanovitch overtook them when they had reached the pavement. At that moment the bell rang, and the crowd surged toward the train.

“We are lost; our trunks — all gone!” that was all FoufLiguine could utter at that moment, as he swung his valise wildly in his hand. But this lasted only a moment. Seizing Lecha and Pacha by the hand, he cried, in a piercing voice, “Dearest, in the name of Heaven,” and darted into the hall, followed by his wife.

“You have plenty of time,” said the guard at the door which opened on the platform.

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But in his trouble, Nikolai Stepanovich understood nothing. Arrived in front of the train, he threw himself into the crowd with his wife and children. The worldly aspirations of Sophia Petrovna gave place to a profound terror when she found herself surrounded by pushing peasants. She did not recover herself until she found herself in her seat — the crowd had almost lifted her there — and Nikolai Stepanovitch rejoined her after a few moments.

“ It is always like this, even in the First. You have not done badly,” he said, his voice and hands trembling.

Sophia Petrovna did not respond. She arranged her hat and cast uncpiiet glances from side to side.

“ She is not here — she is probably in another car,” puffed Nikolai Stepanovitch amiably searching, too, here and there. A little calmed by the thought that the wife of the dyuggist was not with them, and consequently could not write to their little village that Madame Foufliguine had traveled third-class.

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Sopliia Petrovna began to examine her neighbors.

At her side she found the handsome young man with the side-whiskers and the chain, whom she had observed in the waiting-room. A little farther appeared the officer. Their company calmed and softened her humor, but at once she began to speak to her husband and children, in order that the others might see that they belonged to the better class.

“ Is it not strange,” she said, “ that while every one leaves the city in the spring to go into the country, we are leaving the country to enter the city ? ”

“You come from the country, just like myself,” ventured a gentleman seated opposite Nikolai Stepanovitch. From his pronunciation it was easy to see that he was a Little Russian. He was not shaved, and wore a dirty coat beneath his dusty hat ; two bold eyes were fixed on Sophia Petrovna. He exhaled a strong odor of brandy.

“I am from Piriatine; my name is Karpenko ; I am traveling for a law suit. Tell

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me, sir,” ext( nding liis hand toward Nikolai Stepanov tell ; “ it seems to me that I have had tl e pleasure of meeting you before.”

“ That’s ver) possible,” said Nikolai dryly, as his wife pul ed him by the sleeve.

Seeing that his hand was not taken, or observing the n otion of madame, Karpenko threw himself hi 3k and murmured irritably : “ Oh, we are so proud, so proud ! ”

At this moment the whistle blew, and the train began to move away. Nearly every one took off his hat and made the sign of the cross. At the same ti ne one heard exclamations from all sides.

“ Ah ; now our horse is c_^ ! ”

“ Here ! here ! ”

“ Hear him snort ! ” u Here ! here ! ”

“ Hurrah for the railroad ! ”

“ We are certainly in strange company,” said Sophia Petrovna to her husband, who was trying to avoid the savage looks of Karpenko. Karpenko, for his part, had turned his back

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on the Foufliguines, satisfying himself by occasionally glaring at them.

“Mamma, mamma, look how the trees are running away ! ” cried Lecha and Pacha, whom the father had placed by the window.

“ I had supposed we would go faster than this,” remarked Sophia Petrovna.

“ Oh ! this is only the beginning. As soon as the engine is fairly started we shall go more rapidly,” remarked the young man with the side- whiskers and chain, who sat beside Madame Foulliguine. “ This is probably the first time you have traveled ? ”

“Yes, sir, it is the first time,” responded Nikolai Stepanovitch, very happy to turn his back on Karpenko, whose looks were beginning to seriously disquiet him.

“ You are going to St. Petersburg? ” asked the young man.

“ Yes, sir, to St. Petersburg,” replied Sophia Petrovna, in a tone which expressed her pleasure in talking to a well-bred man. “ You are going also to St. Petersburg ? ”

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“ Yes ; mad am e, I live there,” responded the young man modestly. “ I have been to Moscow because Prince Scliourounoff is dead, and we have just buried him.”

“ As for myself, I have always lived in the country,” said Nikolai Stepanovitch, this time in an engaging tone.

His wife did not pull him by the sleeve ; in fact she encouraged him by a look to continue the conversation.

“We are going now to St. Petersburg to see some relatives. I have a brother — perhaps you know him.”

“ He is married to the Baronne Laste,” added madarne amiably.

“ Then I have a nephew, a certain Svistcheff, who owns an immense house near the Red Gate, which we shall cross. And my wife,” continued Nikolai Stepanovitch amiably, “has also relatives in St. Petersburg — a cousin, Madame Mirzoeff, whose husband occupies a fine position.”

“Oh, how glad I shall be to see Alexandrine ! ”

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“ I can understand that, Madame, after a long separation.”

u Just think, it is six years since we have seen each other ! ”

A conversation so agreeably begun did not easily flag. The Foufliguines, enchanted by the modesty and genteel behavior of their neighbor, began to question him about all the pleasures of the capital — the theaters and the promenades. The young man answered them simply. His eloquence was not brilliant, but his conversation did not lack a certain interest.

He had traveled a good deal, had been several times in Italy, in Paris, and along the Rhine. The words prince and count were constantly on his lips. He was so amiable that when the train approached the first station, the husband and wife could not conceal their chagrin.

“ Already arrived,” said Foufliguine. “I hope we shall have the pleasure of traveling with you again.”

“ I don’t know. It does not depend on me.”

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“We shall be charmed,” cried Madame Fouhiguine, not without an air of coquetry.

At this moment the conductor showed himself at the door.

“The servant of Count Schourounoff ! ” he cried.

“Here I am. In a moment,” responded the young man with the side-whiskers, hastily leaving.

If the conductor had announced that the boiler was about to burst or that the engine was broken, the Fouiliguines could not have felt more consternation.

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” roared Karpenko, placing himself before Nikolai Stepanovitch. “ Ha ! ha ! ha ! and you thought he was a count ! Ha! ha! ha!”

Many other people joined Karpenko in laughing.

“ Sir, I beg you to let me alone,” cried Nikolai Stepanovitch, red with anger as he rose hastily.

“ Nikolai — mercy ! ” murmured Sophia Petrovna, seizing her husband by the sleeve.

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“ Leave, in the name of Heaven, I beg of you ! Leave at once — we have arrived — every one is descending.”

Nikolai Stepanovitcli seized Lecha and Pacha and stepped down on the platform, followed by his wife.

“ It is terrible ! Everything here has an air of unreality,” he said.

“ As I told you, I could not remain there long. It was horrible ! ”

“ You can go into another car. All the places cannot be occupied. We shall see.”

Nikolai Stepanovitcli walked up and down the line of cars looking in at the windows in quest of seats.

“ Here is a compartment entirely at your disposal — and of the first class. Hurry and take it. Seat yourself, my dear, with the children.”

“ But you ? ”

“ I will rejoin you at the next station. I have forgotten our traveling bag and now there is no time to look for it. They are ring-

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mg. Adieu ! Do you know the bell is ringing '{ Adieu ! adieu ! ” he cried to his wife.

The compartment in which Sophia Petrovna had installed herself was not empty. Hardly had she seated herself with the children in the seats than the bell began to ring. At that moment two young men and a loudly dressed woman entered. She was laughing loudly and treated the young men with a freedom that caused Madame Foulliguine to open her eyes widely.

The air, imposing and severe, which Sophia Petrovna had assumed, at first restrained this joyous band, but not for a long time. As soon as the train moved away, one of the young men stretched himself out on the bench. The other, seated by the young woman, embraced her twice while pretending to arrange her mantle.

This performance did not escape the eyes of Sophia Petrovna. She understood at once by what kind of people she was surrounded,

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and wishing to inspire the young man with more respect, she measured him from herd to foot with an indignant glance.

But her indignation only caused them to roar with laughter.

Sophia Petrovna made a gesture of impatience and turned to look out of the window.

“ Katerina Mikhailovna, will you have a cigarette ? ” asked the young man who was stretched out on the bench.

Katerina Mikhailovna gave a sign of assent. The young man threw hor a cigarette, which she caught in the air and immediately lit.

“ Pacha, Pacha, look at the beautiful rings of smoke they are making,” cried Leclia.

“ Papa makes just as pretty ones,” said Pacha naively.

“ Be still !” interrupted the mother severely, casting a savage look at them.

The young man looked toward them again. Katerina Mikhailovna could not restrain herself ; she broke out in a new fit of laughter.

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Madame Foufliguine made a grimace of disdain.

All her actions only excited the young men to begin new pleasantries. The one that was stretched on the bench and Katerina Mikhailovna began to blow smoke in her face.

“ This is insupportable,” murmured Sophia Petrovna, at last, lowering the window with an air of indignation. At this moment the conductor entered.

“ Ah, dear friend, come here — you are the one we want to see,” cried the young man reclining on the bench ; then assuming a severe air : “ Listen well ! When we get to

St. Petersburg, I shall make a complaint against you.”

“ What for ? ” asked the astonished conductor.

u Because you have the habit of letting strangers come into the carriages reserved for families. There ! It is not the first time I have remarked this,” casting a furtive look at Madame Foufliguine, who, half dead with

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terror, continued to look out of tlie window and pretended not to hear.

The conductor approached her.

“ Your ticket, madame ? ”

“ Oh ! ” cried Sophia Petrovna, whose proud expression soon changed, as if by enchantment, to the most piteous ; “ oh, my heavens ! ”

“ Your ticket, your ticket, madame, if you please,” repeated the conductor.

“ Oh — my husband — my ticket is there. Oh, what will they do with me ! ” she murmured.

“ You came from the third-class, madame, and have installed yourself in a family carriage ! That is not permitted, madame ! ”

“ But I did not know. Oh, my God ! Oh, my God ! what will they do with me ! ”

The conductor calmed her by saying that they would not harm her at all, but that she must descend as soon as the train stopped — which she did, as you may well believe, with great alacrity.

At the first sound of the bell, Nikolai

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Stepanovitcli was on the platform, his valise in his hand, ready to rejoin his wife. On perceiving her so excited and disturbed, he ran to meet her.

“ Oh, Nikolai,” cried Sophia Petrovna, almost falling into his arms. “ I conld not support that — they insulted me — there was a woman — and young men.”

“ Young men ! ” cried Nikolai Stepano vitck, arranging his coat with a disturbed air, and looking around on all sides as if he wished to throw himself against the crowd, which at that moment encumbered the platform.

“ Nikolai ! what are you going to do ? Mercy, stop a moment — think ! ”

“ But I want to know who insulted you,” looking right and left as if he were seeking some one.

Sophia Petrovna recounted in a few words the scene that had taken place.

“ Why, my dear, when you were once seated, did you not keep still ? ” in an irritated tone.

“ Then you accuse me ? ”

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“ Not at all, my dear ; still, it was your own fault. But it is time to start ; tlie bell is ringing. Let us hasten.”

“ That servant is there — after what took place ? ”

“ No, he has changed his carriage. His place is unoccupied. The wife of the druggist has also disappeared.”

“And that creature who was always attacking you ? It is terrible ! ”

“ He is sleeping, thank God ! At the last station I saw him empty three glasses of brandy one after another. After which he went immediately to sleep.”

“ Oh, how horrible ! ”

“ Horrible or not, hurry and enter. There is no remedy ! ” ejaculated Nikolai Stepanovitch, stopping in front of his car. Until Tver was reached, nothing extraordinary happened to our travelers. They did not leave their places, for, besides the wife of the apothecary, Sophia Petrovna was afraid of meeting the young men from the reserved compartment, and did not let Nikolai

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Stepanovitch descend for fear of some scandal.

At Tver they got out, but did not eat at the table d'hote. Installed in a corner, they dined modestly and returned to the platform. The first person they saw was Karpenko, who, in front of a counter, was drinking brandy.

“Look, he is still drinking. We shall have more trouble,” said Sophia Petrovna.

“ What a beast ! I am astonished that they let in such persons. We ought to warn the conductor.”

But the expectations of husband and wife were not realized. When Karpenko entered their compartment, he stretched himself out on a bench and soon began to snore.

“ Conductor, is there a place ? ” cried a shrill voice.

“Yes, this way,” responded the conductor, showing a seat by the side of Madame Foufliguine.

Sophia Petrovna cast an unquiet glance at the new comer. She felt now that every

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voyager was an insolent being, or one who would compromise her.

The new arrival calmed the terror of Madame Foufliguine and her husband.

She was a sturdy woman, of moderate height, and her round head was ornamented with a quantity of little braids, and surmounted by an azure-blue hat, which she arranged every few moments. The retrousse nose of the lady, red and swollen, clearly showed that she had been lately crying.

“ Pardon me, madame ; it is possible that I have disturbed you,” said the lady, with a melancholy voice, placing her hand on her ample bosom and stifling a sigh.

“ Not at all; the place is free,” said Sophia Petrovna.