Luka questions him:
“Tell me, featherbrain,” he says, “and you’d better tell me in all frankness, what were you up to there?”
And he says:
“Nothing.”
Well, so it was left at nothing, and yet it was by no means nothing.
VII
A most astonishing thing had happened with the gentleman our Pimen supposedly had us pray for. As I told you, he set out for the Jewish town and arrived there late at night, when nobody was thinking about him, and at once sealed every one of the shops, and informed the police that he would come and inspect them the next morning. The Jews, naturally, found it out at once and came to him at once that night asking to make a deal, meaning they had no end of illegal goods. They come and shove ten thousand roubles at the gentleman straight off. He says: “I can’t, I’m a big official, invested with confidence, and I don’t take bribes,” and the Jews psht-psht-psht among themselves and offer him fifteen. He says again: “I can’t.” They offer twenty. He says: “What is it, don’t you understand that I can’t, I’ve already let the police know about going there together tomorrow to inspect.” They psht-psht again, and then say:
“Vel, Your Excellency, dat’s nothing dat you let the police know, here ve’re giffing you tventy-five tousend, and you jes gif us your seal till morning and go peacefully to bed, and ve don’t need anyting else.”
The gentleman thought and thought: he considered himself a big person, but, obviously, even big persons don’t have hearts of stone. He took the twenty-five thousand and gave them his seal, with which he had done the sealing, and went to bed. During the night, the Jews, naturally, dragged everything they had to out of their cellars and sealed them again with the same seal, and the gentleman was still asleep when they were already psht-pshting in his front hall. Well, so he lets them in; they thank him and say:
“And now, Your Honor, you’re velcome to inspect.”
Well, he makes as if he doesn’t hear that, and says:
“Give me back my seal, quickly.”
And the Jews say:
“And you gif us back our money.”
“What? How’s that?” says the gentleman. But they stand their ground:
“Ve left you de money as a pledge.”
“What do you mean, as a pledge?”
“Dat’s right, zir,” they say, “it vas a pledge.”
“You’re lying,” he says, “scoundrels that you are, Christ-sellers, you gave me that money to keep.”
They nudge each other and chuckle:
“Hörst-du,” they say, “you hear, ve supposedly gafe it outright … Hm, hm! Oy vey, as if ve could be so shtupid, just like some muzhiks mitout politics, to gif such a big person a khabar.” (“Khabar” is their word for a bribe.)
Well, sirs, can you imagine anything better than this story? The gentleman, naturally, should have given back the money, and that would have been the end of it, but he held out a little longer, because he was sorry to part with it. Morning came; all the shops in town were locked; people came and marveled; the police demand the seal, and the Jews shout: “Oy vey, vat kind of gofernment is dis! De high autorities vant to ruin us.” A terrible uproar! The gentleman locks himself in and sits there almost out of his mind till dinnertime, but in the evening he summons those clever Jews and says: “Take your money, curse you, and give me back my seal!” But they no longer want that. They say: “How can you do dat! In de whole town ve did no business all day: now Your Honor muss gif us fifty tousend.” You see what came of it! And the Jews threaten: “If you don’t gif fifty tousend today, tomorrow it vill cost you anoder tventy-fife tousend more!” The gentleman didn’t sleep all night, and in the morning he sent for the Jews again, gave them back all the money he had taken from them, and wrote a promissory note for another twenty-five thousand, and went ahead with the inspection anyhow; found nothing, naturally, quickly went home to his wife, and stormed and raged before her: where was he to get twenty-five thousand to buy back the promissory note from the Jews? “We’ll have to sell the estate that came as your dowry.” But she says: “Not for anything in the world—I’m attached to it.” He says: “It’s your fault, you prayed through some schismatics that I be sent on this mission and assured me their angel would help me, and yet see how nicely he’s helped me.” But she replies: “No, the fault is yours. Why were you so stupid that you didn’t arrest those Jews and declare that they stole the seal from you? But, in any case,” she says, “never mind: just listen to me and I’ll set things right, and others will pay for your injudiciousness.” And she suddenly shouted out to whoever happened to be there: “Quick, hurry, go across the Dniepr and bring me the schismatics’ headman.”
Well, the envoy, naturally, went and brought our Pimen, and the lady says directly, not beating about the bush: “Listen, I know you’re an intelligent man and will understand what I need: there’s been a little unpleasantness with my husband, some scoundrels have robbed him … Jews … you understand, and now we absolutely must have twenty-five thousand today or tomorrow, and there’s nowhere I can get it that quickly; but I’ve called you in and am at peace, because Old Believers are intelligent and rich people, and, as I’ve become convinced, God Himself helps you in all things, so kindly give me twenty-five thousand, and I, for my part, will tell all the ladies about your wonderworking icons, and you’ll see how much you get for wax and oil.”
I suppose it’s not hard for you to imagine, my dear sirs, what our spielman felt about such a turn of events. I don’t know what words he used, but only—and I do believe him—that he began hotly vowing and swearing, testifying to our poverty in the face of such a sum, but she, this new Herodias,14 didn’t even want to know about it. “No,” she says, “I know very well that the Old Believers are rich, and for you twenty-five thousand is nonsense. When my father was serving in Moscow, the Old Believers did him such favors more than once and for more than that. No, twenty-five thousand is a trifle.”
Here, too, naturally, Pimen tried to explain to her that the Moscow Old Believers were capital people, while we were simple, hardworking hayseeds and had no place competing against Muscovites. But she must have had good Muscovite lessons in her and suddenly cut him short:
“What’s this?” she says. “What’s this you’re telling me? Don’t I know how many wonderworking icons you’ve got, and weren’t you telling me yourself how much they send you for wax and oil from all over Russia? No, I don’t want to listen. I must have the money right now, otherwise my husband will go to the governor today and tell him all about how you pray and seduce people, and it’ll be bad for you.” Poor Pimen nearly fell off the porch; he came home as I told you, and just kept repeating the one word “Nothing,” and he himself was all red, like from the steambaths, pacing up and down and blowing his nose. Well, Luka Kirilovich finally got a little something out of him, only the man, naturally, didn’t reveal everything to him, but just gave away the most insignificant part of the essence, like saying: “This lady demands of me that I get you to lend her five thousand.” Well, hearing that, Luka, naturally, flies into a temper: “Ah, you spielman, you,” he says, “you just had to go dealing with them and then bring them here! What, are we so rich, are we, that we can raise that kind of money? And why should we give it to them? And where is it, anyway? … Since you dealt yourself into it, you can deal yourself out of it—we can’t get five thousand anywhere.” With that, Luka Kirilovich went on his way to work and arrived, as I told you, pale as a condemned man, because, going by the night’s events, he anticipated trouble for us; and Pimen himself went the other way. We had all seen him emerge from the bulrushes in a little boat and cross over to town, and now, once Mikhailitsa had told me everything in order, how he’d dunned them for the five thousand, I figured he was probably in a rush to sweeten up the lady. In such reflections, I was standing by Mikhailitsa, thinking whether something harmful for us might come of it, and whether measures ought to be taken against this possibly occurring evil, when I suddenly saw it was too late for the whole undertaking, because a big boat had come to shore, and just behind my back I heard the noise of many voices, and, turning, I saw a number of different officials, in various corresponding uniforms, and with them no small number of policemen and soldiers. And, my dear sirs, before Mikhailitsa and I had time to blink, they all poured past us straight to Luka’s room, and at the door they placed two sentries with drawn sabers. Mikhailitsa started throwing herself at these sentries, not so much to be allowed in as to endure suffering. They, naturally, pushed her away, but she threw herself at them still more fiercely, and their combat went so far that one of the gendarmes finally hurt her badly, so that she went rolling head over heels off the porch. I rushed to the bridge to fetch Luka, but I saw Luka himself already running towards me, and our whole crew after him, they had all risen up, and with whatever they had in their hands, one a crowbar, another a mallet, came running to save our holy icons … Those who didn’t catch a boat and had no way of reaching the shore dove off the bridge into the water, in all their clothes, as they had been at work, and swam one after another through the cold waves … It was terrible even to think how it would end. About twenty guardsmen came there, and they were all in various bold attire, but ours numbered more than fifty, and all of them animated by lofty, ardent faith, and they all swam through the water like sea dogs, and though they might be bashed on the head with mallets, they reached the bank where their holy icons were, and suddenly, all soaking wet, marched forward like your living and indestructible stones.