The Little Demon, Fyodor Sologub [reading the story of the TXT] 📗

he had finished laughing he sat down in the chair and threw his head back as if he had dropped exhausted from laughing.

“You astonish me, my good Ardalyon Borisitch! Ha! Ha! Ha! Be so kind as to tell me upon what you base your supposition, if the premises which have led you to this conclusion are not secret! Ha! Ha! Ha!”

Peredonov recounted everything that he had heard from Varvara, and incidentally he dilated on the poor qualities of Kokovkina. Khripatch listened and now and then gave vent to his dry, mechanical laughter.

“I’m afraid, my dear Ardalyon Borisitch, that your imagination has played pranks with you,” he said, as he rose and caught Peredonov by the sleeve. “I, as well as many of my esteemed friends, have children, we’re not in our swaddling clothes. Surely you don’t think that we would have admitted a disguised girl as a boy?”

“That’s your opinion,” said Peredonov. “But if anything should happen who’s going to be responsible?”

“Ha! Ha! Ha!” laughed Khripatch. “What consequences are you afraid of?”

“It’ll demoralise the school,” said Peredonov.

Khripatch frowned and said:

“You’re presuming too far. All that you have told me so far doesn’t give me the slightest cause for sharing in your suspicion.”

That same evening Peredonov rapidly went round to all his colleagues, from the inspector down to the form-masters, and told everyone that Pilnikov was a girl in disguise. They all laughed and refused to believe him, but when he left several of them began to wonder if it were not true. The Masters’ wives believed it immediately.

Next morning many came to their classes with the thought that Peredonov was possibly right. They did not speak of this openly, yet they no longer argued with Peredonov and limited themselves to indecisive and ambiguous answers; each was afraid that he would be considered stupid if he argued about the matter, should it afterwards prove to be true. Many would have liked to know what the Headmaster thought of it, but the Headmaster stopped in his own house more than usual. He came very late to the one lesson he gave that day to the sixth form, remained there hardly more than five minutes and then went to his study without speaking to anyone.

At last, before the fourth lesson, the grey-haired Divinity Master and two other instructors went to the Headmaster’s study on the pretext of business and the Divinity Master cautiously led up to the subject of Pilnikov. But the Headmaster laughed so confidently and so indifferently that all three became convinced that the whole thing was an invention. The Headmaster quickly went on to other subjects, told a new piece of town news, complained about his bad headache and said that he would probably have to call in the gymnasia doctor, Evgeny Ivanovitch. Then he told them in a very good-natured voice that his lesson that day had only made his headache worse, for, as it happened, Peredonov was in the next class and the students had for some reason or other laughed frequently and with extraordinary loudness. Khripatch laughed dryly and said:

“This year fate has not been kind to me⁠—three times a week I am compelled to sit in a classroom next to Ardalyon Borisitch, And just imagine! There is constant boisterous laughter. One would think that Ardalyon Borisitch was not at all an amusing man and yet he always arouses merriment!”

And without giving them time to comment on this, Khripatch changed the subject.

It was true that recently there had been a good deal of laughter at Peredonov’s classes⁠—though they did not particularly please him. On the contrary, children’s laughter annoyed Peredonov, but he could not restrain himself from saying things which were malapropos and unnecessary: now he would tell a stupid anecdote, now he would try to subdue one of the most quiet boys by sneering at him. In his classes there were also a number of boys who were glad of every opportunity to create disorder⁠—and at every one of Peredonov’s sallies they would roar with laughter.

After school Khripatch sent for the physician, picked up his hat and went into his garden which was situated between the school and the riverbank. The garden was large and shady. The little boys loved it. They were allowed to run about in it freely during recreation, but this was the reason why the assistant masters did not like it. They were afraid that something would happen to the boys. But Khripatch insisted that the boys should spend their recreation time in the garden. This was necessary in order to make his reports appear more imposing.

As he walked through the corridor he stopped outside the Gymnasium hall for a while, and then walked in with bent head. From his cheerless face and slow walk, everyone knew that he had a headache.

The fifth form was getting ready for its exercises. They stood in a row and the Athletic instructor, a lieutenant of the local reserve battalion, was about to give a command, but, on seeing the Headmaster, he went forward to meet him. Khripatch shook his hand and looking somewhat confusedly at the students asked:

“Are you satisfied with them? Do they work well? Do any of them get tired?”

The lieutenant deep in his heart detested those students, who, in his opinion, had not and could never have a military bearing. If they had been cadets he would have told them at once what he thought of them, but it was not worth while to tell the unpleasant truth about these sluggards to the man on whom these lessons depended. And so with a smile on his thin lips he looked at the Headmaster in a friendly way and said:

“Oh, yes, they’re fine boys.”

The Headmaster walked past some of the boys in the line and was about to leave when he stopped short as if he had suddenly remembered something.

“And are you satisfied with the new boy? Is he doing well? Does he tire quickly?” he asked languidly and cheerlessly, putting his hand