THE COMPLETE WORKS OF FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY. Федор Достоевский
down on their knees again and the ceremony was carried out under the pious instructions of Miss Perepelitsyn, who was saying every minute: “Bow down to her feet, kiss the image, kiss your mamma’s hand.” Mr. Bahtcheyev thought himself bound to kiss the image after the betrothed couple, and at the same time he kissed the hand of Madame la Generale.
“Hurrah!” he shouted again. “Come, now we will have some champagne.”
Everyone, however, was delighted. Madame la Générale was weeping, but it was now with tears of joy. Foma’s blessing had at once made the union sanctified and suitable, and what mattered most to her was that Foma Fomitch had distinguished himself and that now he would remain with her for ever. All the lady companions, in appearance at least, shared the general satisfaction. My uncle at one moment was on his knees kissing his mother’s hands, at the next was flying to embrace me, Bahtcheyev, Mizintchikov and Yezhevikin. Ilyusha he almost smothered in his embraces. Sasha ran to hug and kiss Nastenka. Praskovya Ilyinitchna dissolved into tears. Bahtcheyev, noticing this, went up to kiss her hand. Poor old Yezhevikin was completely overcome, he was weeping in a corner and was wiping his eyes with the same check handkerchief. In another corner Gavrila was whimpering and gazing reverently at Foma Fomitch, and Falaley was sobbing loudly and going up to each of the company in turn, kissing his hand. All were overwhelmed with feeling; no one yet had begun to talk, or explain things; it seemed as though everything had been said; nothing was heard but joyful exclamations. No one understood yet how all this had been so quickly arranged. They knew one thing only, that it had all been arranged by Foma Fomitch, and that this was a solid fact which could not be changed.
But not five minutes had passed after the general rejoicing, when suddenly Tatyana Ivanovna made her appearance among us. In what way, by what intuition could she, sitting in her own room upstairs, have so quickly divined love and marriage below? She fluttered in with a radiant face, with tears of joy in her eyes, in a fascinating and elegant get-up (she had had time to change her dress before coming down), and flew straight to embrace Nastenka with loud exclamations.
“Nastenka, Nastenka! You loved him and I did not know!” she cried. “Goodness! They loved each other, they suffered in silence! They have been persecuted. What a romance! Nastya, darling, tell me the whole truth: do you really love this crazy fellow?”
By way of reply Nastya hugged and kissed her.
“My goodness, what a fascinating romance!” And Tatyana Ivanovna clapped her hands in delight. “Nastya, listen, my angel: all these men, all, every one, are ungrateful wretches, monsters, and not worthy of our love. But perhaps he is the best of them. Come to me, you crazy fellow!” she cried, addressing my uncle and clutching him by the arm. “Are you really in love? Are you really capable of loving? Look at me, I want to look into your eyes, I want to see whether those eyes are lying or not? No, no, they are not lying; there is the light of love in them. Oh, how happy I am! Nastenka, my dear, you are not rich — I shall make you a present of thirty thousand roubles. Take it, for God’s sake. I don’t want it, I
don’t want it; I shall have plenty left. No, no, no,” she cried, waving her hand as she saw Nastenka was meaning to refuse. ‘‘Don’t you speak, Yegor Ilyitch, it is not your affair. No, Nastya, I had made up my nund already to give you the money; I have been wanting to make you a present for a long time, and was only waiting for you to be in love. … I shall see your happiness. You will wound me if you don’t take it; I shall cry, Nastya. No, no, no and no!”
Tatyana Ivanovna was so overjoyed that for the moment at least it was impossible, it would have been a pity indeed, to cross her. They could not bring themselves to do it, but put it off. She flew to kiss Madame la Generale, Miss Perepelitsyn and all of us. Mr. Bahtcheyev squeezed his way up to her very respectfully and asked to kiss her hand.
“My dear, good girl! Forgive an old fool like me for what happened this morning. I didn’t know what a heart of gold you had.”
“Crazy fellow! I know you,” Tatyana Ivanovna lisped with gleeful playfulness. She gave Mr. Bahtcheyev a flick on the nose with her glove, and swishing against him with her gorgeous skirts, fluttered away like a zephyr.
The fat man stepped aside respectfully.
“A very worthy young lady!” he said with feeling. “They have stuck a nose on to the German! You know!” he whispered to me confidentially, looking at me joyfully.
“What nose? What German?” I asked in surprise.
“Why, the one I ordered, the German kissing his lady’s hand while she is wiping away a tear with her handkerchief. Only yesterday my Yevdokem mended it; and when we came back from our expedition this morning I sent a man on horseback to fetch it… . They will soon be bringing it. A superb thing.”
“Foma!” cried my uncle in a frenzy of delight. “It is you who have made our happiness. How can I reward you?”
“Nohow, Colonel,” replied Foma, with a sanctimonious air. “Continue to pay no attention to me and be happy without Foma.”
He was evidently piqued; in the general rejoicing he seemed, as it were, forgotten.
“It is all due to our joy, Foma,” cried my uncle. “I don’t know whether I am on my head or my feet. Listen, Foma, I have insulted you. My whole blood is not enough to atone for my wrong to you, and that is why I say nothing and do not even beg your pardon. But if ever you have need of my head, my life, if you ever want someone to throw himself over a precipice for your sake, call upon me, and you shall see… . I will say nothing more, Foma.”
And my uncle waved his hand, fully recognising the impossibility of adding anything that could more strongly express his feeling. He only gazed at Foma with grateful eyes full of tears.
“See what an angel he is!” Miss Perepelitsyn piped in her turn in adulation of Foma.
“Yes, yes,” Sashenka put in. “I did not know you were such a good man, Foma Fomitch, and I was disrespectful to you. But forgive me, Foma Fomitch, and you may be sure I will love you with all my heart. If you knew how much I respect you now!”
“Yes, Foma,” Bahtcheyev chimed in. “Forgive an old fool like me too. I didn’t know you, I didn’t know you. You are not merely a learned man, Foma, but also — simply a hero. My whole house is at your service. But there, the best of all would be, if you would come to me the day after tomorrow, old man, with Madame la Générale too, and the betrothed couple — the whole company, in fact. And we will have a dinner, I tell you. I won’t praise it beforehand, but one thing I can say, you will find everything you want unless it is bird’s milk. I give you my word of honour.”
In the midst of these demonstrations, Nastenka, too, went up to Foma Fomitch and without further words warmly embraced him and kissed him.
“Foma Fomitch,” she said, “you have been a true friend to us, you have done so much for us, that I don’t know how to repay you for it all; but I only know that I will be for you a most tender and respectful sister …”
She could say no more, she was choked by tears. Foma kissed her on the head and grew tearful.
“My children, the children of my heart,” he said. “Live and prosper, and in moments of happiness think sometimes of the poor exile. For myself, I will only say that misfortune is perhaps the mother of virtue. That, I believe, is said by Gogol, a frivolous writer, but from whom one may sometimes glean fruitful thoughts. Exile is a misfortune. I shall wander like a pilgrim with my staff over the face of the earth, and who knows? — perchance my troubles will make me more righteous yet! That thought is the one consolation left mel”
“But … where are you going, Foma?” my uncle asked in alarm.
All were startled, and pressed round Foma.
“Why, do you suppose I can remain in your house after your behaviour this morning?” Foma inquired with extraordinary dignity.
But he was not allowed to finish, outcries from all the company smothered his voice. They made him sit down in an easy-chair, they besought him, they shed tears over him, and I don’t