Short Fiction, Leonid Andreyev [good e books to read .TXT] 📗

silently. She did not rush over to him; she did not burst into tears; she did not break into a sob; she did not do any of the terrible things which Sergey had feared. She just kissed him and silently sat down. And with her trembling hands she even adjusted her black silk dress.

Sergey did not know that the colonel, having locked himself all the previous night in his little study, had deliberated upon this ritual with all his power. “We must not aggravate, but ease the last moments of our son,” resolved the colonel firmly, and he carefully weighed every possible phase of the conversation, every act and movement that might take place on the following day. But somehow he became confused, forgetting what he had prepared, and he wept bitterly in the corner of the oilcloth-covered couch. In the morning he explained to his wife how she should behave at the meeting.

“The main thing is, kiss⁠—and say nothing!” he taught her. “Later you may speak⁠—after a while⁠—but when you kiss him, be silent. Don’t speak right after the kiss, do you understand? Or you will say what you should not say.”

“I understand, Nikolay Sergeyevich,” answered the mother, weeping.

“And you must not weep. For God’s sake, do not weep! You will kill him if you weep, old woman!”

“Why do you weep?”

“With women one cannot help weeping. But you must not weep, do you hear?”

“Very well, Nikolay Sergeyevich.”

Riding in the drozhky, he had intended to school her in the instructions again, but he forgot. And so they rode in silence, bent, both gray and old, and they were lost in thought, while the city was gay and noisy. It was Shrovetide, and the streets were crowded.

They sat down. Then the colonel stood up, assumed a studied pose, placing his right hand upon the border of his coat. Sergey sat for an instant, looked closely upon the wrinkled face of his mother and then jumped up.

“Be seated, Seryozhenka,” begged the mother.

“Sit down, Sergey,” repeated the father.

They became silent. The mother smiled.

“How we have petitioned for you, Seryozhenka! Father⁠—”

“You should not have done that, mother⁠—”

The colonel spoke firmly:

“We had to do it, Sergey, so that you should not think your parents had forsaken you.”

They became silent again. It was terrible for them to utter even a word, as though each word in the language had lost its individual meaning and meant but one thing⁠—Death. Sergey looked at his father’s coat, which smelt of benzine, and thought: “They have no servant now, consequently he must have cleaned it himself. How is it that I never before noticed when he cleaned his coat? I suppose he does it in the morning.” Suddenly he asked:

“And how is sister? Is she well?”

“Ninochka does not know anything,” the mother answered hastily.

The colonel interrupted her sternly: “Why should you tell a falsehood? The child read it in the newspapers. Let Sergey know that everybody⁠—that those who are dearest to him⁠—were thinking of him⁠—at this time⁠—and⁠—”

He could not say any more and stopped. Suddenly the mother’s face contracted, then it spread out, became agitated, wet and wild-looking. Her discolored eyes stared blindly, and her breathing became more frequent, and briefer, louder.

“Se⁠—Se⁠—Se⁠—Ser⁠—” she repeated without moving her lips. “Ser⁠—”

“Dear mother!”

The colonel strode forward, and all quivering in every fold of his coat, in every wrinkle of his face, not understanding how terrible he himself looked in his deathlike whiteness, in his heroic, desperate firmness. He said to his wife:

“Be silent! Don’t torture him! Don’t torture him! He has to die! Don’t torture him!”

Frightened, she had already become silent, but he still shook his clenched fists before him and repeated:

“Don’t torture him!”

Then he stepped back, placed his trembling hands behind his back, and loudly, with an expression of forced calm, asked with pale lips:

“When?”

“Tomorrow morning,” answered Sergey, his lips also pale.

The mother looked at the ground, chewing her lips, as if she did not hear anything. And continuing to chew, she uttered these simple words, strangely, as though they dropped like lead:

“Ninochka told me to kiss you, Seryozhenka.”

“Kiss her for me,” said Sergey.

“Very well. The Khvostovs send you their regards.”

“Which Khvostovs? Oh, yes!”

The colonel interrupted:

“Well, we must go. Get up, mother; we must go.” The two men lifted the weakened old woman.

“Bid him goodbye!” ordered the colonel. “Make the sign of the cross.”

She did everything as she was told. But as she made the sign of the cross, and kissed her son a brief kiss, she shook her head and murmured weakly:

“No, it isn’t the right way! It is not the right way! What will I say? How will I say it? No, it is not the right way!”

“Goodbye, Sergey!” said the father. They shook hands, and kissed each other quickly but heartily.

“You⁠—” began Sergey.

“Well?” asked the father abruptly.

“No, no! It is not the right way! How shall I say it?” repeated the mother weakly, nodding her head. She had sat down again and was rocking herself back and forth.

“You⁠—” Sergey began again. Suddenly his face wrinkled pitiably, childishly, and his eyes filled with tears immediately. Through the sparkling gleams of his tears he looked closely into the white face of his father, whose eyes had also filled.

“You, father, are a noble man!”

“What is that? What are you saying?” said the colonel, surprised. And then suddenly, as if broken in two, he fell with his head upon his son’s shoulder. He had been taller than Sergey, but now he became short, and his dry, downy head lay like a white ball upon his son’s shoulder. And they kissed silently and passionately: Sergey kissed the silvery white hair, and the old man kissed the prisoner’s garb.

“And I?” suddenly said a loud voice.

They looked around. Sergey’s mother was standing, her head thrown back, looking at them angrily, almost with contempt.

“What is it, mother?” cried the colonel.

“And I?” she said, shaking her head with insane intensity. “You kiss⁠—and I? You men! Yes? And I? And I?”

“Mother!” Sergey rushed over to her.

What took place then