Then at last, thank God, a maid appeared sent by my maman to call me for lunch. Now I could leave this objectionable company and go and get on with my thesis. So I stood up and bowed. But Var- enka's matan, Varenka herself, and all the variegated young ladies surrounded me and declared I had no right at all to leave as I had firmly promised the previous day to have lunch and go out to the woods with them to pick mushrooms. So I bowed and sat down . .. Hatred seethed within my breast-another minute of this and I felt I would not be answerable for myself, there would be an explosion. But a sense of delicacy and my fear of offending against social decorum always make me defer to the ladies. So I deferred.
We sat down for lunch. The ex-officer, whose jaws had seized up because of the wound in his head, ate as if he had a bit between his teeth. I rolled my bread into balls, thought about the dog-tax, and knowing my tendency to be quick-tempered, tried not to say any- thing. Nadenka looked at me compassionately. There wascold soup, tongue with boiled peas, roast chicken and stewed fruit. I didn't feel like eating, but did so out of a sense of delicacy. After lunch, as I stood alone on the verandah smoking, Mashenka's maman came up to me, squeezed my hand and said in a breathless voice:
'Don't despair, Nicolas . . . Ah, what a loving nature she has, what a loving nature!'
So we went tothewoods to pick mushrooms . .. Varenka hungon my arm andclungto my side. It was inexpressible torment, but I put up with it.
We entered the wood.
'Tell me, monsieur Nicolas,' sighed Nadenka, 'why is your face so sad? Why don't you speak?'
Whatan odd girl -what wasthere tospeak toher about? What did we have in common?
'Please do say something,' she insisted.
I tried to think of some popular topic which she might be capable of understanding. So after much thought I said: 'The felling of forests is causing enormous havoc in Russia . . .'
'Oh, Nicolas,' Varenka sighed, and her nose began to flush. 'Nicolas, I see you're avoiding a heart-to-heart conversation . .. It's as if you wanted to punish me with your silence. Your emotion is unrequited and you want to suffer in silence, alone . .. It's awful, Nicolas!' she exclaimed, suddenly grabbing me by the hand, and I could see her nose beginning to go puffy. 'But what would you say if the girl whom you love were to offer you Eternal Friendship?'
I mumbled something incoherent because I hadn't the faintest idea what to say to her . . . For goodness' sake - in the first place I wasn't in love with anyone, in the second place what on earth did I want with Eternal Friendship? And thirdly - I'm an extremely quick- tempered person. Mashenka (or Varenka) hid her face in her hands and said in an undertone, as if to herself:
'He does not answer . . . He obviously wants me to make a sacrifice. But how can I love him if I still love another! And yet ... I'll thinkabout it . . . Yes, I shall thinkabout it . . . I shall summon up all the spiritual resources at my command and - perhaps, even at the cost of my own happiness, deliver this man from his suffering!'
It was all double Dutch to me. Some kind of mumbo-jumbo. We went on a bit further and started picking mushrooms. We said nothing. There were signs of inner conflict on Nadenka's face. I heard some dogs barking: that reminded me of my thesis and I sighed deeply. I saw the ex-officer between the tree-trunks. The poor fellow was limping painfully on both sides: he had his wounded hip on the right side and one ofthe variegated young ladies clinging to him on the left. His face expressed submission to Fate.
After the mushroom-picking we went back to the datcha for tea, then played croquet and listened to one of the variegated damsels singing a ballad: 'Sweet is my love, so sweet, so sweet!' Every time she sang 'sweet' her mouth curled right up to her ear.
'Channanf/'the other young ladies moaned in chorus. 'Charunt !'
Darkness fell. The revolting moon was creeping up from behind the shrubbery. The air was still, with an unpleasant smell of fresh hay. I picked up my hat with the intention of going home.
'I have something to tell you,' Mashenka whispered to me signific- antly. 'Don't go.'
I had a nasty foreboding, but waited out of a sense of delicacy. Mashenka took my arm and led me off somewhere down an avenue of trees. Her whole being now expressed an inner conflict. She was pale, she breathedheavily and seemed intent on pulling my right arm off. What was the matter with the girl?
'I want to tell you,' she murmured. 'No, I can't . . . No, no.'
She wanted to say something, but kepthesitating. Then I saw from the expression on her face that she had made up her mind. With her eyes flashing and her nose all puffy she grabbcd .me by the hand and gasped: Nicolas, I am yours! I cannot love you, but I promise to be faithful.'
She pressed herself up agamst my chest, then suddenly sprang back.
'Someonc's coming,' she whispered. 'Farewcll ... I shall be in the summer-house tomorrow at eleven o'clock . . . Farewell -darling!'
And off she went. Completely at a loss, with my heart palpitating terribly, I made my way homeward. There 'The Past and Future of the Dog-Tax' awaited me, but I couldn't do any work. I was furious. I would evcn go so far as to say I was fearsome in my wrath. Damn it, I will not permit people to treat me like a little boy! I'm quick- tempered, and woe bctide anyone who plays games with me! When the maid came in to call me to supper I yelled at her: 'Get out!' Such quick-temperedness hodes ill.
Ncxt morning we had typical summer holiday weather, i.e. temp- eraturc below freezing point, a cold, biting wind, rain, mud and the smell of mothballs caused by my maman dragging all her winter coats out of the chest. An absolutely foul morning. It was, to be precise, the 7th of August 1887, when there was to be an eclipse of the sun. I must point out that every one of us can do enormously important work during an eclipse even if we are not astronomers. For instance, each of us can: I) measure the diameter of the sun and the moon, 2) sketch the sun's corona, 3) measure the temperature, 4) observe the behaviour of animals and plants at the moment oftotal eclipse, 5) note down his own personal impressions, etc. This was a matter of such importance that for the time being I decided to set aside 'The Past and Future of the Dog-Tax' and observe the eclipse instead. We all got up very early. I had allocated the tasks to be performed as follows: I myself was to measure the diameter of the sun and moon, the wounded officer was t0 sketch the corona, and everything else was the responsibility of Mashenka and the varieg- ated young ladies. So there we all were, waiting for it to begin.
'Why do eclipses happen?' Mashenka enquired.
I replied: 'An eclipse of the sun occurs when the moon, passing through the plane of the ecliptic, assumes a position upon the line joining the centres of the sun and the earth.'
'What does ecliptic mean?'
I explained. Mashenka listened attentively, then she asked:'When you look through the smoked glass can you see the line joining the centres of the sun and the earth?'
I explained that this line is imaginary.
'But if it's imaginary,' said Varenka, completely bewildered, 'how can the moon assume a position on it?'
I did not answer. I could feel my spleen beginning to swell at the naivety of such a question.
'All that's rubbish,' said Varenka's maman. 'No one can possibly foretell the future, and anyway you've never been in the sky, so how can you know what's going to happen to the moon and the sun? It's all make-believe.'
But soon a black spot began to move across the sun. The result was general consternation. Cows, sheep and horses bolted all over the fields with their tails in the air and bellowed in terror. Dogs howled. Bedbugs, thinking it was night again, crept out of their crannies and began biting anyone who was asleep. A local cleric, who was bring- ing home a load ofcucumbers from his allotment, panicked, jumped off his can and hid under a bridge, while his horse pulled the cart into someone else's yard where the cucumbers were devoured by pigs. An excise cfficer, who had been spending the night at a certain lady's datcha, ran out among the crowd in just his underwear, shouting wildly: 'Every man for himself!'