Milkin, the philosopher, made a ferocious face and was apparently about to say something but instead sud- denly smacked his lips, probably dreaming of roast duck, and without a word, as though pulled by some mysterious force, seized his hat and ran out.
"Yes, perhaps I would enjoy a bit of duck, too," breathed the Assistant Prosecuting Attorney.
The Presiding Judge got up, walked about the cham- ber, and sat down again.
"After the roast, sir, a man is full, and he goes off into a sweet eclipse," continued the secretary. "The body is basking, the soul is transported. And then for the crown- ing touch, two or three glasses of spiced brandy."
The Presiding Judge grunted and struck out what he had written.
"I have ruined the sixth sheet!" he exclaimed angrily. "This is monstrous!"
"Go on, go on writing, my friend," murmured the secretary. "I shan't say another word. You won't hear a thing. Believe me, Stepan Frantzych," he went on in a scarcely audible whisper, "spiced brandy, if it's home- made, is better than the finest champagne. After the very first glass your whole being is suffused with a kind of fragrance, enveloped in a mirage, as it were, and it seems to you as if you aren't at home, in your own ann- chair, but somewhere in Australia, that you are astride a do^y ostrich—"
"Oh, let's be off, Pyotr Nikolaichl" cried the Prosecut- ing Attorney, with an impatient jerk of his leg.
"Yes, my friend," the secretary continued. "And while you are sipping your brandy, it's not a bad thing to smoke a cigar, and you blow rings, and you begin to fancy that you are a generalissimo, or better still, you are married to the most beautiful woman in the world, and all day long she is floating under your windows in a kind of pool with goldfish in it. She floats there, and you call to her: 'Darling, come and give me a kiss.'"
"Pyotr Nikolaich!" moaned the Prosecuting Attorney.
"Yes, my friend," the secretary proceeded. "And when you have had your smoke, you lift the skirts of your dressing-gown and climb into bed! You lie on your back, and you pick up a newspaper. When you can hardly keep your eyes open, and your whole body i.s ready for sleep, politics makes agreeable reading: Austria made a misstep, France got somebody's back up, the Pope put a spoke in someone's wheel—it's a pleasure, sir, to read of such things."
The Presiding Judge threw down his pen, jumped up and seized his hat in both hands. The Assistant Pros- ecuting Attorney, who had quite forgotten his catarrh and was nearly fainting with impatience, jumped up, too.
"Let's be off!" he cried.
"Pyotr Nikolaich, and what about your dissenting opinion?" asked the secretary in dismay. "My dear friend, when will you write it? You have to be in town at six o'clock!"
The Presiding Judge waved his hand in despair and made a dash for the door. The Assistant Prosecuting Attorney made the same gesture and, seizing his brief case, vanished together with the judge. The secretary looked after them reproachfully and began to gather up the papers.
1887
Sergeant Prishibeyev
S
ERGEANT PRISHIBEYEV,t the charge against you is that on the third of September you committed assault and battery on Constable Zhigin, Elder Alyapov, Policeman Yefimov, special deputies Ivanov and Gavrilov, and on six other peasants, the three first-named having been attacked by you while they were performing their official duties. Do you plead guilty?"
Prishibeyev, a wrinkled non-com with a face that seemed to bristle, comes to attention and replies in a hoarse, choked voice, emphasizing each word, as though he were issuing a command:
"Your Honor, Mr. justice of the peace! It follows, ac- cording to all the articles of the law, there is cause to attest every circumstance mutually. It's not me that's guilty, but all them others. This whole trouble started on account of this dead corpse, the Kingdom of Heaven be his! On the third instant my wife, Anfisa, and I was walking quiet and proper. Suddenly I look and what do I see but a crowd of all sorts of people standing on the river bank. By what rights, I ask, have people assembled there? What for? Is there a law that says people should go about in droves? Break it up, I holler. And I start shoving people, telling them to go on home, and I order the policeman to chase 'em and give it 'em in the neck. . . ."
"AUow me, but you are not a constable, not an elder —is it your business to break up crowds?"
"It ain't! It ain't!" voices are heard from various parts of the courtroom. "There's no standing him, Your Honor! It's fifteen years he's been plaguing us! Since the day he came back from the army, there's no living in the vil- lage. He's done nothing but badger us."
"Just so, Your Honor," says the elder. "The whole village is complaining. There's no standing him! No matter whether we carry the icons in a church proces- sion, or have a wedding, or some accident happens, there he is, shouting, making a racket, setting things straight. He pulls the children's ears, he spies on the women folk, afraid something might go amiss, like he were their father-in-law. The other day he made the round of the cabins, ordering everybody not to sing songs, not to burn lights. 'There ain't no law,' he tells 'em, 'as says people should sing songs.'"
"Hold on, you'll have a chance to testify," says the justice of the peace; "and now let Prishibeyev continue. Go on, Prishibeyev!"
"Yes, sir!" crows the sergeant. "Your Honor, you're pleased to say that it ain't my business to break up crowds. . . . Very well, sir. . . . But what if there's breach of the peace? You can't allow folks to carry on disgracefully. Where is the law that says people should do as they please? I won't have it, sir! If I don't chase 'em and call 'em to account, who will? Nobody here knows the rights of things; I'm the only one, Your Honor, I'm the only one in the whole village, you might say, who knows how to deal with the common people. And I know what's what, Your Honor. I'm no hick, I'm a non-co^missioned officer, a retired quartermaster- sergeant. I served in Warsaw, I was attached to head- quarters, sir, and after, when I got my honorable dis- charge, I was on duty as a fireman, and then on account of iU health I retired from the fire department, and for two years I held the post of doorman in a junior high school for boys of good family. I know all the rules and regulations, sir. But the peasant, he's ignorant, he don't understand the first thing, and he's got to do as I say, seeing as how it's for his own good. Take this affair, for instance. Here I was, breaking up the crowd, and right there on the shore, on the sand, lies the dro^ed corpse of a dead man. What right has he got to lie there, I asks. Is that proper? What's the constable thinking of? How come, constable, says I, that you didn't notify the authorities? Maybe this drowned corpse dro^ed him- self or maybe this smells of Siberia? Maybe it's a case of criminal homicide. But Zhigin, the constable, he don't take no notice, but just puffs away at a cigarette. 'Who is this,' says he, 'as is laying down the law to you fel- lows? Where does he come from?' says he. 'Don't we know what's what without him putting in his oar?' says he. 'It looks as if you don't know what's what, you fool, you,' says I, 'if you stand there and don't take no notice.' 'I notified the district police officer yesterday,' says he. 'Why the district police officer?' says I. 'Accord- ing to what article of the Code of Laws? In cases like drowning and hanging and matters of a similar kind, is there anything the district police officer can do about them? Here's a corpse,' says I, 'this is a criminal case, plainly a civil suit. The thing to do,' says I, sir, 'is to send a dispatch right away to His Honor the examining magistrate and Their Honors the judges. And first off,' says I, 'you ought to draw up a report and send it to His Honor the justice of the peace.' But the constable, he just listens to it all, and laughs. And the peasants, too. They all laughed, Your Honor. I can testify to it under oath. This one here laughed, and that one there, and Zhigin, he laughed too. 'What's the joke?' says I. And the constable, he says: 'Such cases ain't within the jurisdiction of the justice of the peace.' I got hot under the collar when I heard them words. 'You did say them words, didn't you, constable?'" The sergeant turned to Zhigin.