The Created Legend, Fyodor Sologub [ebook reader with android os .txt] 📗

Sergey Lvovitch Svetilovitch, was a member of the Constitutional Democratic Party; among his own he was regarded as belonging to the extreme left wing. Like his friend Rameyev, who was a Cadet of more moderate views, he was a member of the local committee.

Doctor Svetilovitch thought he ought to protest against the improper actions of the police. He lodged complaints with the Governor and the District Attorney, and wrote circumstantial petitions to both⁠—his chief concern being that no offending expression of any sort should enter into them.

Doctor Svetilovitch was an extremely correct and loyal man. Other people around him, if placed in unusual circumstances, might lose their presence of mind and forget their principles; others around him, friends or enemies, might act incorrectly and illegally; but Doctor Svetilovitch always remained faithful to himself. No circumstance, no earthly or heavenly power, could swerve him from the path which he acknowledged as the only true one, in so far as it conformed to Constitutional Democratic principles. The problem of expedience of conduct concerned Doctor Svetilovitch but little. The important thing was to be correct in principle. He always placed, however, the responsibility for the result this procedure achieved upon the shoulders of those who wished to follow along other lines. That was why Doctor Svetilovitch enjoyed extraordinary respect in his own party. Great weight was attached to his opinions, and in the matter of tactics his declarations were indisputable.

Several days after Doctor Svetilovitch presented his petition he had a call from an inspector of the police, who handed him, with a request for a receipt, a grey, rough paper impressed at the upper left-hand corner with the stamp of the Skorodozh governing authorities, together with a packet from the District Attorney. This last contained a white solid-looking page of foolscap folded in four, handsomely engraved with the District Attorney’s seal. Both the grey rough paper and the solid-looking page of foolscap contained approximately in the same words the answers to the complaints of Doctor Svetilovitch. These informed Doctor Svetilovitch that a very careful investigation had been made in connection with his complaints; in conclusion, it was affirmed that Doctor Svetilovitch’s evidence as to the illegal actions of the police, and as to the subjection of the girls caught in the woods to blows, was not borne out by facts.

At last Sonya began to improve. The members of the family and acquaintances tried not to recall the sad incident of that night before Sonya. Only indifferent and pleasant matters were mentioned in the poor girl’s presence in order to divert her. A number of visitors were invited one evening for this purpose. Some were asked by letter, others by Doctor Svetilovitch in person. He visited the Rameyevs and Trirodov in his carriage, which was harnessed to a pair of stout ponies.

In inviting Trirodov, Doctor Svetilovitch asked him to read something from his own work at the gathering, something that would not make Sonya unpleasantly reminiscent. Trirodov agreed to this quite heartily, although he usually avoided reading his own work anywhere.

As Trirodov was preparing to leave his house that evening and was putting on a coloured tie, Kirsha said to him with his usual gravity:

“I should not go to the Svetilovitches’ tonight if I were you. It would be much wiser to remain at home.”

Trirodov, not all astonished by this unexpected advice, smiled and asked:

“Why shouldn’t I go?”

Kirsha held his father’s hand and said sadly:

“There have been many detectives of late poking their noses about here. What can they want here? It’s almost certain they will make a search of Svetilovitch’s house tonight⁠—I have a presentiment.”

“That’s nothing,” said Trirodov with a smile, “we have got used to everything. But, dear Kirsha, you are very inquisitive⁠—you look in everywhere, even where you shouldn’t.”

“My eyes see, and my ears hear,” replied Kirsha, “is that my fault?”

In the pleasant, well-appointed drawing-room of the Svetilovitches, in the lifeless light of three electric globes with lustrous bronze fittings, the green-blue upholsterings of the Empire furniture seemed illusively beautiful. The dark curves of the grand piano were gleaming. Albums were lying on a little table under the leaves of a palm. The portrait of an old man with a long, white moustache smiled down youthfully and cheerfully from its place on the wall above the sofa. The visitors gathered in the midst of these attractive surroundings, as if there were nothing to mar them. They spoke a great deal, with much heat and eloquence.

Most of the visitors were local Cadets. Among those present were three physicians, one engineer, two legal advocates, the editor of a local progressive newspaper, a justice of the peace, a notary, three gymnasia instructors, and a priest. Nearly all came accompanied by women and girls. There were also several students, college girls, and grownup schoolboys from the higher gymnasia classes.

The young priest, Nikolai Matveyevitch Zakrasin, who sympathized with the Cadets, gave lessons in Trirodov’s school. He was considered a great freethinker among his colleagues, the priests. The town clergy looked askance at him. And the Diocesan Bishop was not well disposed towards him.

Father Zakrasin had completed a course in the ecclesiastical academy. He spoke rather well, wrote something, and collaborated not only in religious but also in worldly periodicals. He had wavy, dense, not over-long hair. His grey eyes smiled amiably and cheerfully. His priestly attire always appeared new and neat. His manners were restrained and gentle. He did not at all resemble the average Russian priest; Father Zakrasin seemed more like a Catholic prelate who had let his beard grow and had put on a golden pectoral cross. Father Zakrasin’s house was bright, neat, and cheerful. The walls were decorated with engravings, scenes from sacred history. His study contained several cases of books. It was evident from their selection that Father Zakrasin’s interests were very broad. In general he liked that which was certain, convincing, and rational.

His wife, Susanna Kirillovna, a good-looking, plump, and calm woman, who was wholly convinced of the justice of the