11 ' But how can that be? ' he cried, amazed at my calm. ' What are you saying? '
" And he was so shocked that he was unwilling to go on, and returned home.
11 Next day he was continually twitching and nervously rubbing his hands, and it was evident from his face that he was unwell. And he left before his work was over, for the first time in his life. And he ate no dinner. Towards evening he wrapped himself up warmly, though it was quite warm weather, and sallied out to the Kovalenkos'. Var- inka was out; he found her brother, however.
" ' Pray sit down,' Kovalenko said coldly, with a frown. His face looked sleepy; he had just had a nap after dinner, and was in a very bad humour.
11 Byelikov sat in silence for ten minutes, and then began:
" ' I have come to see you to relieve my mind. I am very, very much troubled. Some scurrilous fel- low has drawn an absurd caricature of me and an- other person, in whom we are both deeply interested. I regard it as a duty to assure you that I have had no hand in it. . . . I have given no sort of ground for such ridicule — on the contrary, I have always be- haved in every way like a gentleman.'
11 Kovalenko sat sulky and silent. Byelikov waited a little, and went on slowly in a mournful voice:
" ' And I have something else to say to you. I have been in the service for years. while you have only lately entered it, and I consider it my duty as an older colleague to give you a warning. You ride on a bicycle, and that pastime is utterly unsuit- able for an educator of youth.'
" ' Why so? ' asked Kovalenko in his bass. " | Surely that needs no explanation, Mihail Sav- vitch — surely you can understand that? If the teacher rides a bicycle, what can you expect the pupils to do ? You will have them walking on their heads next! And so long as there is no formal permission to do so, it is out of the question. I was horrified yesterday! When I saw your sister everything seemed dancing before my eyes. A lady or a young girl on a bicycle — it's awful! ' " 1 What is it you want exactly? ' " ' All I want is to warn you, Mihail Savvitch. You are a young man, you have a future before you, you must be very, very careful in your behaviour, and you are so careless — oh, so careless I You go about in an embroidered shirt, are constantly seen in the street carrying books, and now the bicycle, too. The headmaster will learn that you and your sister ride the bicycle, and then it will reach the higher au- thorities. . . . Will that be a good thing? '
" 1 It's no business of anybody else if my sister and I do bicycle I ' said Kovalenko, and he turned crim- son. ' And damnation take any one who meddles in my private affairs ! '
" Byelikov turned pale and got up. " 1 If you speak to me in that tone I cannot con- tinue,' he said. ' And I beg you never to express yourself like that about our superiors in my pres- ence; you ought to be respectful to the authorities.'
" ' Why, have I said any harm of the authorities? ' asked Kovalenko, looking at him wrathfully. * Please leave me alone. I am an honest man, and do not care to talk to a gentleman like you. I don't like sneaks I '
" Byelikov flew into a nervous flutter, and began hurriedly putting on his coat, with an expression of horror on his face. It was the first time in his life he had been spoken to so rudely.
" ' You can say what you please,' he said, as he went out from the entry to the landing on the stair- case. * I ought only to warn you : possibly some one may have overheard us, and that our conversation may not be misunderstood and harm come of it, I shall be compelled to inform our headmaster of our conversation . . . in its main features. I am bound to do so.'
" ' Inform him? You can go and make your re- port! '
" Kovalenko seized him from behind by the collar and gave him a push, and Byelikov rolled down- stairs, thudding with his goloshes. The staircase was high and steep, but he rolled to the bottom un- hurt, got up, and touched his nose to see whether his spectacles were all right. But just as he was falling down the stairs Varinka came in, and with her two ladies; they stood below staring, and to Byelikov this was more terrible than anything. I be- lieve he would rather have broken his neck or both legs than have been an object of ridicule. Why, now the whole town would hear of it; it would come to the headmaster's ears, would reach the higher authorities — oh, it might lead to something I There would be another caricature, and it would all end in his being asked to resign his post. . . .
11 When he got up, Varinka recognized him, and, looking at his ridiculous face, his crumpled overcoat, and his goloshes, not understanding what had hap- pened and supposing that he had slipped down by accident, could not restrain herself, and laughed loud enough to be heard by all the flats:
" 1 Ha-ha-ha ! '
11 And this pealing, ringing 'Ha-ha-ha! ' was the last straw that put an end to everything: to the pro- posed match and to Byelikov's earthly existence. He did not hear what Varinka said to him; he saw nothing. On reaching home, the fi.rst thing he did was to remove her portrait from the table; then he went to bed, and he never got up again.
" Three days later Afanasy came to me and asked whether we should not send for the doctor, as there was something wrong with his master. I went in to Byelikov. He lay silent behind the curtain, covered with a quilt; if one asked him a question, he said ' Yes ' or ' No ' and not another sound. He lay there while Afanasy, gloomy and scowling, hovered about him, sighing heavily, and smelling like a pot- house.
" A month later Byelikov died. We all went to his funeral — that is, both the high-schools and the seminary. Now when he was lying in his coffin his expression was mild, agreeable, even cheerful, as though he were glad that he had at last been put into a case which he would never leave again. Yes, he had attained his ideal! And, as though in his hon- our, it was dull, rainy weather on the day of his fun- eral, and we all wore goloshes and took our um- brellas. Varinka, too, was at the funeral, and when the coffin was lowered into the grave she burst into tears. I have noticed that Little Russian women are always laughing or crying — no intermediate mood.
" One must confess that to bury people like Bye- likov is a great pleasure. As we were returning from the cemetery we wore discreet Lenten faces; no one wanted to display this feeling of pleasure — a feeling like that we had experienced long, long ago as children when our elders had gone out and we ran about the garden for an hour or two, enjoying complete freedom. Ah, freedom, freedom! The merest hint, the faintest hope of its possibility gives wings to the soul, does it not?
" We returned from the cemetery in a good hu- mour. But not more than a week had passed before life went on as in the past, as gloomy, oppressive, and senseless — a life not forbidden by government prohibition, but not fully permitted, either: it was no better. And, indeed, though we had buried Bye- likov, how many such men in cases were left, how many more of them there will be! "