covered his face with his hands when he heard of such an act on the part of his former pupils; tears poured from his dim eyes in a torrent, as though he had been a weak child. “God has brought me to tears on my death-bed!” he exclaimed, in a feeble voice; and he sighed heavily on hearing about Tchitchikoff, and immediately added, “Ah, Pavlusha! How a man changes! Surely he was very well behaved! There was nothing boisterous about him—he was like silk. Ah! he deceived me, deceived me!”
It is impossible to assert, however, that our hero’s nature was so grim and harsh, that his feelings were dulled to such a degree, that he knew neither pity nor sympathy; he felt both the one and the other: he was even desirous of assisting the teacher, only not to the extent of a considerable sum of money, lest he might have to encroach upon the hoard which he had made up his mind not to touch. In short, his father’s exhortation, “Save and amass money,” had been of some avail. He had no actual love for money for the sake of money itself: he was not actuated by miserliness and greed. No, but life gleamed before his eyes, with all its pleasures, with all its possibilities: equipages, a handsomely mounted establishment, savoury dinners—it was all that which was constantly passing through his brain. So as to secure in the course of time all these things without fail, he saved up his money, denying it to himself and to others for a space. When a wealthy man drove past him in an elegant drozhky, with trotters in rich harness, he halted as though rooted to the spot; and when he came to himself, as though after a long dream, he said, “And that man was formerly a shop-clerk, and wore his hair cut in a ring!”3 Everything which smacked of wealth or ease produced upon our hero an impression which was inexplicable, even to himself.
On leaving the academy, he did not even care to take a holiday, so strong within him was his desire to set to work and enter the service. Nevertheless, in spite of his laudatory credentials, he had great difficulty in obtaining a situation in the department of justice. Even in the most remote corners of the land, influence is required. At last he obtained an insignificant little place: the salary was only thirty or forty roubles a year. But he resolved to apply himself ardently to his duties, to conquer and to overcome everything. And in fact, he displayed great self-sacrifice and patience, and incredible economy even as regards the necessaries of life. From early morning until late at night he wrote, straining every power of mind and body, and wholly absorbed in the duties of his post. He did not go home, he slept on the tables in the office; he sometimes took his meals with the watchmen; and withal, he managed to remain clean, to dress respectably, to communicate a pleasant expression to his face, and something even noble to his movements.
It must be stated that the officials in the department of justice were especially distinguished for their lack of comeliness and for their deficiency of understanding. Some of them had faces looking exactly like badly baked bread: one fellow’s cheeks were swollen, another’s chin was twisted up, the upper lip of a third had swollen like a bladder, and burst; in short, such faces were not handsome at all. They all spoke, too, in a surly way, in voices which seemed to indicate that they were on the point of beating someone; and they frequently sacrificed to Bacchus, thus demonstrating that a large remnant of heathendom still lingers in the nature of the Slav. At times they even entered the offices in a drunken condition, which rendered the offices unpleasant, and the air anything but aromatic.
Among such officials Tchitchikoff could not fail to attract attention and to be distinguished from the rest, presenting, as he did, a complete contrast, both as to his comely countenance, the courtesy of his voice, and his entire abstinence from all strong liquors. Yet, despite all this, his path was a thorny one. He had fallen upon a superior who was very antiquated in his customs, who prided himself on his stony insensibility; and who was eternally the same, always unapproachable. Never in his life had a smile dawned on his face, never had he once greeted anyone with an inquiry as to his health. No one had ever beheld him otherwise, whether in the street or at his own house; never once had he shown any interest in anything. Ah! if he had only drunk himself drunk for once, and in his intoxication had indulged in a laugh! if he had but yielded to a little wild mirth, such as a brigand indulges in, in a moment of intoxication! But there was no prospect of anything of that kind happening, there was neither vice nor goodness in him, and this utter absence of failings and qualities produced an odd impression. His marble-like countenance, which lacked any striking irregularity, hinted at no resemblance to anyone or anything else; his features