Chapter XIII
‘THAT’S what I will do,’ said Nekhlyúdov to himself with cheerful self-satisfaction, and remembering that he still had to see the rich peasant Dútlov he turned towards a tall roomy homestead with two chimneys, that stood in the middle of the village. As he drew near it he met at the neighbouring hut a plainly dressed woman of about forty coming to meet him.
‘A pleasant holiday, sir!’ said she without any sign of timidity, stopping beside him, smiling pleasantly and bowing.
‘Good morning, nurse,’ he replied. ‘How are you? I am going to see your neighbour.’
‘Yes, your Excellence, that’s a good thing. But won’t you please come in? My old man would be so glad!’
‘Well, I’ll come in and we’ll have a talk, nurse. Is this your hut?’
‘That’s it, sir.’
The woman, who had been his wet-nurse, ran on in front. Following her into the entry Nekhlyúdov sat down on a barrel and lit a cigarette.
‘It’s hot in there. Let’s sit out here and have a chat,’ he said in answer to his nurse’s invitation to enter the hut. The nurse was still a fresh-looking and handsome woman. Her features, and especially her large dark eyes, much resembled those of her master. She folded her arms under her apron and looking fearlessly at Nekhlyúdov, and continually moving her head, began to talk.
‘Why are you pleased to honour Dútlov with a visit, sir?’
‘I want him to rent land from me, about thirty desyatíns,7 and start a farm, and also buy a forest jointly with me. You see he has money, so why should it lie idle? What do you think of it, nurse?’
‘Well, why not? Of course, sir, everyone knows that the Dútlovs are strong people. I reckon he’s the leading peasant on the whole estate,’ the nurse answered, swaying her head. ‘Last year they put up another building with their own timber, without troubling you. They must have at least eighteen horses, apart from foals and colts, and as to cattle and sheep – when the women go out into the street to drive them in it’s a sight to see how they crowd the gateway, and they must also have two hundred hives of bees if not more. Dútlov is a very strong peasant and must have money.’
‘Do you think he has much money?’ asked Nekhlyúdov.
‘People say – it may be their spite – that the old man has a good lot of money. Naturally he won’t talk about it or tell his sons, but he must have. Why shouldn’t he be interested in a forest? Unless he may be afraid of the talk spreading of his having money. Some five years back he took up meadows in a small way, in shares with Shkálik, the inn-keeper, but either Shkálik swindled him or something happened, and the old man lost some three hundred rubles and since then he has given it up. How can they help being well-to-do, your Excellency?’ the nurse went on. ‘They have three allotments of lands, a big family all of them workers, and the old man himself – there’s no denying it – is a capital manager. He has such luck everywhere that people all wonder; what with his grain, his horses, and cattle, and bees, and his sons. He’s got them all married now. He used to find wives for them among our own people, but now he’s got Ilyúshka married to a free girl – he paid for her emancipation himself— and she, too, has turned out well.’
‘And do they live peaceably?’
‘Where there’s a real head to a house there’s always peace. Take the Dútlovs – of course the daughters-in-law have words behind the oven, but with their father at the head the sons live in unity all the same.’
The nurse paused a little.
‘It seems that the old man wants to make his eldest son Karp head of the house now. “I am getting old,” he says. “My place is to see to the bees.” Well, Karp is a good peasant, a careful peasant, but all the same he won’t be anything like the old man was as a manager – he hasn’t the same sense.’
‘Then Karp may like to take up the land and the forest. What do you think?’ Nekhlyúdov asked, wishing to get from his nurse all that she knew about her neighbours.
‘Scarcely, sir,’ she replied. ‘The old man hasn’t told his son anything about his money. As long as he lives and the money is in his house, the old man will control things; besides, they go in chiefly for carting.’
‘And you think the old man won’t consent?’
‘He will be afraid.’
‘But what of?’
‘But how can a serf belonging to a master let it be known what he has got, sir? In a hapless hour he might lose all his money! When he went into business with the inn-keeper and made a mistake, how could he go to law with him? So the money was lost. And with his proprietor he’d get settled at once.’
‘Oh, is that it? …’ said Nekhlyúdov flushing. ‘Well, goodbye nurse.’
‘Good-bye, dear sir, your Excellence. Thank you kindly.’
Chapter XIV
‘HADN’T I better go home?’ thought Nekhlyúdov as he approached Dútlov’s gate, feeling an indefinite sadness and moral weariness.
But at that moment the new plank gates opened before him with a creak, and in the gateway appeared a handsome, ruddy, fair-haired lad of eighteen dressed as a stage-coach-driver and leading three strong-limbed shaggy horses, which were still perspiring. Briskly shaking back his flaxen hair he bowed to the master.
‘Is your father at home, Ilyá?’ asked Nekhlyúdov.
‘He’s in the apiary at the back of the yard,’ replied the lad, leading one horse after the other out through the half-open gate.
‘No, I’ll keep to my intention and make him the offer, and do what depends on me,’ Nekhlyúdov thought, and letting the horses pass out he entered Dútlov’s large yard. He could see that the manure had recently been carted away: the earth was still dark and damp, and here and there, especially by the gateway, lay bits of reddish, fibrous manure. In the yard and under the high penthouse stood many carts, ploughs, sledges, troughs, tubs, and peasant property of all kinds, in good order. Pigeons flew about and cooed in the shade under the broad strong rafters. There was a smell of manure and tar in the place. In one corner Karp and Ignát were fixing a new transom under a large iron-bound three-horse cart. Dútlov’s three sons all bore a strong family resemblance. The youngest, Ilyá, whom Nekhlyúdov had met by the gate, had no beard and was shorter, ruddier, and more smartly dressed than the others. The second, Ignát, was taller, darker, had a pointed beard, and though also wearing boots, a driver’s shirt, and a felt hat, had not such a festive and carefree appearance as his younger brother. The eldest, Karp, was still taller, and was wearing bast shoes, a grey coat, and a shirt without gussets. He had a large red beard and looked not only serious but almost gloomy.
‘Shall I send father to you, your Excellence?’ he asked, coming up to his master and awkwardly making a slight bow.
‘No, I’ll go myself to the apiary and see his arrangements there … but I want to speak to you,’ said Nekhlyúdov stepping to the opposite side of the yard so that Ignát should not hear what he was about to say to Karp.
The self-confidence of these two peasants and a certain pride in their deportment, as well as what his nurse had told him, so embarrassed the young master that he did not find it easy to speak of the business he had in mind. He had a sort of guilty feeling and it seemed to him easier to speak to one brother out of hearing of the others. Karp seemed surprised that the master should take him aside, but followed him.
‘This is what it is,’ Nekhlyúdov began hesitatingly. ‘I wanted to ask, have you many horses?’
‘We can muster five tróyka teams, and there are some foals too,’ Karp answered readily, scratching his back.
‘Do your brothers drive the stage-coach?’
‘We drive stage-coaches with three tróykas, and Ilyá has been away carting; he’s only just back.’