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"You may feel pleased at your work," said St. Jerome to me as he led me

from the room.

"Good God! What have I done?" I thought to myself. "What a terribly bad

boy I am!"

As soon as St. Jerome, bidding me go into his room, had returned to

Grandmamma, I, all unconscious of what I was doing, ran down the grand

staircase leading to the front door. Whether I intended to drown myself,

or whether merely to run away from home, I do not remember. I only know

that I went blindly on, my face covered with my hands that I might see

nothing.

"Where are you going to?" asked a well-known voice. "I want you, my

boy."

I would have passed on, but Papa caught hold of me, and said sternly:

"Come here, you impudent rascal. How could you dare to do such a thing

as to touch the portfolio in my study?" he went on as he dragged me into

his room. "Oh! you are silent, eh?" and he pulled my ear.

"Yes, I WAS naughty," I said. "I don't know myself what came over me

then."

"So you don't know what came over you--you don't know, you don't know?"

he repeated as he pulled my ear harder and harder. "Will you go and put

your nose where you ought not to again--will you, will you?"

Although my ear was in great pain, I did not cry, but, on the contrary,

felt a sort of morally pleasing sensation. No sooner did he let go of my

ear than I seized his hand and covered it with tears and kisses.

"Please whip me!" I cried, sobbing. "Please hurt me the more and more,

for I am a wretched, bad, miserable boy!"

"Why, what on earth is the matter with you?" he said, giving me a slight

push from him.

"No, I will not go away!" I continued, seizing his coat. "Every one else

hates me--I know that, but do YOU listen to me and protect me, or else

send me away altogether. I cannot live with HIM. He tries to humiliate

me--he tells me to kneel before him, and wants to strike me. I can't

stand it. I'm not a baby. I can't stand it--I shall die, I shall kill

myself. HE told Grandmamma that I was naughty, and now she is ill--she

will die through me. It is all his fault. Please let me--W-why

should-he-tor-ment me?"

The tears choked my further speech. I sat down on the sofa, and, with

my head buried on Papa's knees, sobbed until I thought I should die of

grief.

"Come, come! Why are you such a water-pump?" said Papa compassionately,

as he stooped over me.

"He is such a bully! He is murdering me! I shall die! Nobody loves me at

all!" I gasped almost inaudibly, and went into convulsions.

Papa lifted me up, and carried me to my bedroom, where I fell asleep.

When I awoke it was late. Only a solitary candle burned in the room,

while beside the bed there were seated Mimi, Lubotshka, and our doctor.

In their faces I could discern anxiety for my health, so, although

I felt so well after my twelve-hours' sleep that I could have got up

directly, I thought it best to let them continue thinking that I was

unwell.

XVII. HATRED

Yes, it was the real feeling of hatred that was mine now--not the hatred

of which one reads in novels, and in the existence of which I do

not believe--the hatred which finds satisfaction in doing harm to a

fellow-creature, but the hatred which consists of an unconquerable

aversion to a person who may be wholly deserving of your esteem, yet

whose very hair, neck, walk, voice, limbs, movements, and everything

else are disgusting to you, while all the while an incomprehensible

force attracts you towards him, and compels you to follow his slightest

acts with anxious attention.

This was the feeling which I cherished for St. Jerome, who had lived

with us now for a year and a half.

Judging coolly of the man at this time of day, I find that he was a true

Frenchman, but a Frenchman in the better acceptation of the term. He was

fairly well educated, and fulfilled his duties to us conscientiously,

but he had the peculiar features of fickle egotism, boastfulness,

impertinence, and ignorant self-assurance which are common to all his

countrymen, as well as entirely opposed to the Russian character.

All this set me against him, Grandmamma had signified to him her dislike

for corporal punishment, and therefore he dared not beat us, but he

frequently THREATENED us, particularly myself, with the cane, and would

utter the word fouetter as though it were fouatter in an expressive

and detestable way which always gave me the idea that to whip me would

afford him the greatest possible satisfaction.

I was not in the least afraid of the bodily pain, for I had never

experienced it. It was the mere idea that he could beat me that threw me

into such paroxysms of wrath and despair.

True, Karl Ivanitch sometimes (in moments of exasperation) had recourse

to a ruler or to his braces, but that I can look back upon without

anger. Even if he had struck me at the time of which I am now speaking

(namely, when I was fourteen years old), I should have submitted quietly

to the correction, for I loved him, and had known him all my life,

and looked upon him as a member of our family, but St. Jerome was a

conceited, opinionated fellow for whom I felt merely the unwilling

respect which I entertained for all persons older than myself. Karl

Ivanitch was a comical old "Uncle" whom I loved with my whole heart, but

who, according to my childish conception of social distinctions, ranked

below us, whereas St. Jerome was a well-educated, handsome young dandy

who was for showing himself the equal of any one.

Karl Ivanitch had always scolded and punished us coolly, as though he

thought it a necessary, but extremely disagreeable, duty. St. Jerome,

on the contrary, always liked to emphasise his part as JUDGE when

correcting us, and clearly did it as much for his own satisfaction

as for our good. He loved authority. Nevertheless, I always found his

grandiloquent French phrases (which he pronounced with a strong emphasis

on all the final syllables) inexpressibly disgusting, whereas Karl, when

angry, had never said anything beyond, "What a foolish puppet-comedy it

is!" or "You boys are as irritating as Spanish fly!" (which he always

called "Spaniard" fly). St. Jerome, however, had names for us like

"mauvais sujet," "villain," "garnement," and so forth--epithets which

greatly offended my self-respect. When Karl Ivanitch ordered us to

kneel in the corner with our faces to the wall, the punishment consisted

merely in the bodily discomfort of the position, whereas St. Jerome, in

such cases, always assumed a haughty air, made a grandiose gesture with

his hand, and exclaiming in a pseudo-tragic tone, "A genoux, mauvais

sujet!" ordered us to kneel with our faces towards him, and to crave his

pardon. His punishment consisted in humiliation.

However, on the present occasion the punishment never came, nor was the

matter ever referred to again. Yet, I could not forget all that I had

gone through--the shame, the fear, and the hatred of those two days.

From that time forth, St. Jerome appeared to give me up in despair, and

took no further trouble with me, yet I could not bring myself to treat

him with indifference. Every time that our eyes met I felt that my

look expressed only too plainly my dislike, and, though I tried hard

to assume a careless air, he seemed to divine my hypocrisy, until I was