C)rd3aiov was still staring at him intently.
"Sit down, sit down I" the old man touted impatiently; "sit down, if that will please her! So you are brother and sister, bom of the same mother I You are as fond of one another as lovers!"
Ordynov sat down.
"You see what a fine sister you've got," the old man went on,- laughing, and he showed two rows of white, perfectiy sound teeth. "Be fond of one another, my dears. Is your sister beautiful, sir? Tell me, answer! Come, look how her cheeks are burning; come, look round, sing the praises of her beauty to all the world, show that your heart is aching for her."
Ord3mov frowned and looked angrily at the old man, who flinched under his eyes. A blind fury surged up in Ordynov's heart. By some animal instinct he felt near him a mortal foe. He could not understand what was happening to him, his reason refused to serve him.
"Don't look," said a voice behind him.
Ordynov looked round.
"Don't look, don't look, I tell you, if the devil is tempting you; have pity on your love," said Katerina, laughing, and suddenly from behind she covered his eyes with her hands; then at once took away her hands and hid her own face in them. But the colour in her face seemed to show through her fingeis. She removed her hands and, still glowing like fire, tried to meet their laughter and inquisitive eyes brightly and without a tremor. But both looked at her in silence—^Ordjmov with the stupefaction of love, as though it were the first time such terrible beauty had stabbed his heart; the old man coldly and attentively. Nothing was to be seen in his pale face, except that his lips timied blue and quivered faintly.
Katerina went up to the old man, no longer laughing, and began clearing away the books, papers, inkstand, everything that was on the table and putting them all on the window-sill.
Her breathing was hurried and uneven, and from time to time she drew an eager breath as though her heart were oppressed. Her full bosom heaved and fell like a wave on the seashore. She dropped her eyes and her pitchblack ej^elashes gleamed on her bright cheeks like sharp needles. . . .
"A maiden queen," said the old man.
"My sovereign!" whispered Ordynov, quivering all over. He came to his senses, feeling the old man's eyes upon him— his glance flashed upon him for an instant like Ughtning— greedily spiteful, coldly contemptuous. Ordynov would have got up from his seat but some imseen power seemed to fetter his legs. He sat down again. At times he pinched his hand as though not believing in reality. He felt as though he were being strangled by a nightmare, and as though his eyes were still closed in a miserable feverish sleep. But, strange to say, he did not want to wake up!
Katerina took the old cloth off the table, then opened a chest, took out of it a sumptuous cloth embroidered in gold and bright silks and put it on the table; then she took out of the cupboard an old-fashioned ancestral-looking casket, set it in the middle of the table and took out of it three silver goblets— one for the master, one for the visitor, and one for herself; then with a grave, almost pensive air, she looked at the old man and at tiie visitor.
"Is one of us dear to someone, or not dear," she said. "If anyone is not dear to someone he is dear to me, and shall drink my goblet with me. Each of you is dear to me as my own brother: so let us all drink to love and concord."
"Drink and drown dark fancies in the wine," said the old man, in a changed voice. "Pour it out, Katerina."
"Do you bid me pour?" asked Katerina, looking at Ordynov.
Ordynov held out his goblet in silence.
"Stay! If one has a secret and a fancy, may his wishes come true!" said the old man, raising his goblet.
All cUnked their goblets and drank.
"Let me drink now with you, old man," said Katerina, turning to the landlord. "Let us drink if your heart is kindly to me! Let us drink to past happiness, let us send a greeting to the years we have spent, let us celebrate our happiness with heart and with love. Bid me fill your goblet if your heart is warm to me."
"Your wine is strong, my love, but you scarcely wet your
lips!" said the old man, laughing and holding out his goblet again.
"Well, I will sip it, but you drink it to the bottom . , . why live, old man, brooding on gloomy thoughts; gloomy thoughts only make the heart achel Thought calls for sorrow; with happiness one can live without thinking; drink, old man," she went on; "drown your thoughts."
"A great deal of sorrow must have fermented within you, since you arm yourself against it like this! So you want to make an end of it all at once, my white dove. I drink with you, Katya! And have you a sorrow, sir, if you allow me to ask?"
"If I have, I keep it to myself," muttered Ordynov, keeping his eyes fixed on Katerina.
"Do you hear, old man? For a long while I did not know myself, did not remember; but the time came, I remembered all and recalled it; all that has passed I have passed through again in my unsatisfied soul."
"Yes, it is grievous if one begins looking into the past only," said the old man dreamily. "What is past is like wine that is drunk! What happiness is there in the past? The coat is worn out, and away with it."
"One must get a new one," Katerina chimed in with a strained laugh, while two big tears like diamonds hung on her eyelashes. "One cannot hve down a lifetime in one minute, and a girl's heart is eager for life—there is no keeping pace with it. Do you understemd, old man? Look. I have buried my tear in your goblet."
"And did you buy much happiness with your sorrow?" said Ordynov—and his voice quivered with emotion.
"So you must have a great deal of your own for sale," answered the old man, "that you put your spoke in unasked," and he laughed a spiteful, noiseless laugh, looking insolently at Ordynov.
"What I have sold it for, I have had," answered Katerina .in a voice that sounded vexed and offended. "One thinks it much, another little. One wants to give all to take nothing, another promises nothing and yet the submissive heart follows ^him! Do not you reproach anyone," she went on, looking sadly at Ord3mov. "One man is like this, and another is different, and as though one knew why the soul yearns towards anyone! Fill your goblet, old man. Drink to the happiness of your dear daughter, your meek, obedient slave, as I was when first I knew you. Raise your goblet!"
"So be it! Fill yours, too!" said the old man, taking the wine.
"Stay, old man! Put off drinking, and let us say a word first! . . ."
Katerina put her elbows on the table and looked intently, with passionate, kindling eyes, at the old man. A strange determination gleeimed in her eyes. But all her movements were calm, her gestures were abrupt, unexpected, rapid. She was all as if on fire, and it was marvellous; but her beauty seemed to grow with her emotion, her animation; her hurried breath slightly inflating her nostrils, floated from her lips, half-opened in a smile which showed two rows of teeth white and even as pearls. Her bosom heaved, her coil of hair, twisted three times round her head, fell carelessly over her left ear and covered part of her glowing cheek, drops of sweat came out on her temples.
"Tell my fortune, old man; tell my fortune, my father, before you drown your mind in drink. Here is my white palm for you—^not for nothing do the folks call you a wizard. You have studied by the book and know all of the black art! Look, old man, tell me all my pitiful fate; only mind you don't tell a he. Come, tell me cis you know it—:will there be happiness for your daughter, or will you not forgive her, but call down upon her path an evil, sorrowful fate? Tell me whether I shall have a warm comer for my home, or, like a bird of passage, shall be seeking among good people for a home—a lonely orphan all my life. Tell me who is my enemy, who is preparing love for me, who is plotting against me; tell me, will my warm young heart open its life in solitude and languish to the end, or will it find itself a mate and beat joyfully in tune with it till new sorrow comes! Tell me for once, old man, in what blue sky, beyond far seas and forests, my Ijright falcon lives. And is he keenly searching for his mate, and is he waiting lovingly, and will he love me fondly; will he soon be tired of me, will he deceive me or not deceive me, and, once for all and altogether, teU me for the last time, old man, am I long to while away the time with you, to sit in a comfortless comer, to read dark books; and when am I, old man, to bow low to you, to say farewell for good and all, to thank you for your bread and salt, for giving me to drink and eat, for telling me your tales? . . . But mind, tell all the trath, do not lie. The time has come, stand up for yourself."