Markelov

“ Markelov drew himself up.
'In the first place,' he began in a wrathful voice, 'I don't at all share your opinion about those letters. I think them very remarkable . . . and conscientious! And secondly, Kislyakov toils and slaves, and, what 's more, he believes; he believes in our cause, he believes in revolution! I must tell you one thing, Alexey Dmitrievitch, I notice that you—you are very lukewarm in our cause; you don't believe in it!'
'What makes you think that?' Nezhdanov articulated slowly. ”

“ Nejdanov turned his gaze on Markelov not without some inward misgiving. “Was he not looking at him, trying to guess his thoughts?” But Markelov was standing in a corner biting his moustache.
The old servant came into the room carrying a candle. Markelov started.
“It’s time we were in bed, Alexai,” he said. “Morning is wiser than evening. You shall have the horses tomorrow. Goodbye.” ”

“ Markelov seemed surprised at his wish, but answered that everything should be ready directly.
He went back to the house with Nezhdanov. . . . He was staggering as he walked, from exhaustion.
'What's the matter with you?' asked Nezhdanov.
'I am worn out!' said Markelov savagely. 'However you talk to these people, they can't understand anything, and they won't carry out instructions.. . . They positively don't understand Russian. The word "part" they know well enough . . . but "participation." . . . What is participation? They can't understand. ”

“ Soon after greeting one another, Markelov began talking again of last night’s “problems” (more briefly this time) , about the impending revolution, the weary expression never once leaving his face. He was smothered in perspiration and dust, his voice was hoarse, and his clothes were covered all over with bits of wood shavings and pieces of green moss. The labourers stood by silently, half afraid and half amused. Nejdanov glanced at Markelov, and Ostrodumov’s remark, “What is the good of it all? ”

“ When he wrote the word “friend” he thought of Silin. He read the verses over to himself in an undertone, and was surprised at what had come from his pen. This scepticism, this indifference, this almost frivolous lack of faith—how did it all agree with his principles? How did it agree with what he had said at Markelov’s? He thrust the copybook into the table drawer and went back to bed. ”

“ He was filled with wonder at the proud, heart-rending note in all that Markelov had said. The man’s vanity must have been hurt, he must have suffered, but how nobly he forgot his own personal sorrows for that which he held to be the truth. “He is a limited soul,” Nejdanov thought, “but is it not a thousand times better to be like that than such ... such as I feel myself to be?”
He immediately became indignant at his own self-depreciation.
“What made me think that? Am I not also capable of self-sacrifice? Just wait, gentlemen, and you too, Paklin. ”

“ Solomin was silent, as usual; and Markelov had such a gloomy face, that Nezhdanov asked him at last, what was wrong with him? To which Markelov replied that there was nothing wrong with him, in the tone in which people commonly answer when they mean to give you to understand that there is something, but not for you to know. Golushkin again started abusing some one or other, then he passed to praise of the younger generation: 'such talented fellows', he declared, 'are appearing among us nowadays! such talent! ”

“ Markelov accompanied them to the door, saying that he would soon send for Nejdanov again, and then ... then (he trembled suddenly, but pulled himself together) they would have to settle things definitely. Solomin must also come. He (Markelov) was only waiting to hear from Vassily Nikolaevitch, and that as soon as he heard from him there would be nothing to hinder them from making a “beginning,” as the masses (the same masses who failed to understand the word “participation”) refused to wait any longer! ”

“ Since you can combine both . . . can love and be loved . . . and at the same time serve the cause . . . well, you're a fine fellow! I envy you . . . but it 's not so with me. I can't. You are happy! You are happy! I can't.'
Markelov said all this in a subdued voice, sitting on a low chair, his head bent and his arms hanging loose at his sides. Nezhdanov stood before him, plunged in a sort of dreamy attention, and though Markelov called him happy, he neither looked nor felt happy.
'I was deceived in my youth,' . . . Markelov went on ”

“ Ostrodumov and Mashurina did not stir from their seats, while Markelov and Nezhdanov did not sit down. Markelov stood on the same spot, for all the world like a sentinel, while Nezhdanov kept walking up and down the room with unequal steps, now slowly, now hurriedly. They talked of the measures and means to be employed, of the part each ought to take on himself ”

“ Markelov scanned Kollomietzev coldly and slowly, as if for the last time and then turned to Sipiagin.
“If you really want to know my views, my dear brother-in-law, here they are. I admit that the peasants had a right to arrest me and give me up if they disapproved of what I preached to them. They were free to do what they wanted. I came to them, not they to me. As for the government—if it does send me to Siberia, I’ll go without grumbling, although I don’t consider myself guilty. The government does its work, defends itself. ”

“ Oh, no . . . no; I'm an honest man, gentlemen, and I'm not quite devoid of all manliness!'
But what was this familiar figure standing on the steps of the governor's house, gazing at him with dejected eyes, full of reproach? Why, it was Markelov's old servant. He had, seemingly, come to the town after his master, and would not move away from his prison.. . . But why did he look like that at Paklin? It was not he who had betrayed Markelov! ”

“ I imagine I couldn't absent myself without.'
'I'll tell them', said Markelov. 'Don't you be uneasy. They'll be frowning over their cards now; they won't notice your absence. My brother-in-law aims at becoming a political personage, but all he has to back him is that he plays cards splendidly. After all, though, men have made their fortunes that way! . . . So you get ready. I will make arrangements at once.'
Markelov went away; and an hour later Nezhdanov was sitting beside him on a broad leather cushion, in a wide, roomy, very old, and very comfortable coach ”

“ Kallomyetsev drank too, and praised the wine.
Markelov paid no special attention to the flights of the Petersburg kammerjunker, but twice he looked inquiringly at Nezhdanov, and, tossing up a pellet of bread, all but flung it straight at the loquacious visitor's nose.. . .
Sipyagin let his brother-in-law alone; Valentina Mihalovna, too, did not address him; it was clear that both husband and wife were in the habit of regarding Markelov as an unaccountable creature, whom it was better not to provoke. ”

“ But there, they must wait to see what news Kislyakov would send them. Nezhdanov inquired too about the army. At that Markelov hesitated, tugged at his long whiskers, and explained at last that there was nothing, so far, decisive.. . . Perhaps Kislyakov would have something to disclose.
'And who is this Kislyakov?' cried Nezhdanov impatiently.
Markelov smiled significantly, and said that he was a man . . . such a man.. . . ”

“ Markelov raised his head.
“Supposing we go into the public garden. The weather is lovely. We can sit and look at the people.”
“Come along.”
They moved on; Markelov and Solomin in front, Nejdanov in the rear.
XVIII
Strange was the state of Nejdanov’s soul. In the last two days so many new sensations, new faces.... For the first time in his life he had come in close contact with a girl whom in all probability he loved. He was present at the beginning of the movement for which in all probability he was to devote his whole life.... Well? Was he glad? No.... ”

“ Markelov clutched the reins handed him by the coachman, and went on as loudly as ever: 'I don't blame you, Alexey Dmitritch! You profited . . . of course. You were right. I only say that I don't wonder at your lukewarmness over our cause; you 'd something else, I say again, in your heart. And I say, too, for my own part, what man can guess beforehand what will take girls' hearts, or understand what it is they want! . . .'
'I understand you now,' Nezhdanov began, 'I understand your mortification, guess who has spied on us and lost no time in telling you. . ”

“ A sheer waste of time, kicking our heels about, and I am afraid our worthy merchant is like the well-known goat, neither good for milk nor for wool.”
“The wool is there right enough,” Markelov observed gloomily. “He promised to give us some money. Don’t you like him? Unfortunately, we can’t pick and choose. People do not run after us exactly.”
“I am not fastidious,” Solomin said calmly. “I merely thought that my presence would not do much good. However,” he added, glancing at Nejdanov with a smile, “I will stay if you like. Even death is bearable in good company.” ”

“ After tea they set out for the town. Markelov’s old servant, who was sitting on the doorstep, accompanied his former master with his habitual dejected glance.
The merchant Golushkin, with whom it was necessary to acquaint Nejdanov, was the son of a wealthy merchant in drugs, an Old Believer, of the Thedosian sect. He had not increased the fortune left to him by his father, being, as the saying goes, a joueur, an Epicurean in the Russian fashion, with absolutely no business abilities. He was a man of forty, rather stout and ugly, pock-marked, with small eyes like a pig’s. ”

“ It was useless talking it over with Mashurina, there was no hesitation for her. She knew that she had to go to K., and beyond that she did not look ahead. Nejdanov was at a loss to know what to say to her, and as soon as he finished his tea took his hat and went out in the direction of the birch wood. On the way he fell in with some peasants carting manure, a few of Markelov’s former serfs. He entered into conversation with them, but was very little the wiser for it. They, too, seemed weary, but with a normal physical weariness, quite unlike the sensation experienced by him. ”

“ Markelov gave a severe cough.
“H’m! The people here are stupid enough. A most ignorant lot. They must be enlightened. They’re wretchedly poor, but one can’t make them understand the cause of their poverty.”
“Your brother-in-law’s old serfs, as far as one can judge, do not seem to be poor,” Nejdanov remarked.
“My brother-in-law knows what he is about; he is a perfect master at humbugging people. His peasants are certainly not so badly off; but he has a factory; that is where we must turn our attention. The slightest dig there will make the ants move. ”

“ You fusty, musty, black-faced villain with a moustache like a beetle’s!” Here Pufka indicated with her thick short fingers what his moustache was like; while Nurse Vassilievna’s toothless mouth was convulsed with laughter, re-echoed in the adjoining room.
“I am not in a position to judge you,” Markelov went on. “To protect the homeless and deformed is a very praiseworthy work, but I must say that to live in ease and luxury, even though without injury to others, not lifting a finger to help a fellow-creature, does not require a great deal of goodness. ”

“ In a minute!” the latter exclaimed, hurriedly. “Gentlemen,” he added, “I must ask you to excuse me. Vasia, my clerk, has just told me of such a little piece of news” (Golushkin expressed himself thus purposely by way of a joke) “which absolutely necessitates my leaving you for awhile. But I hope, gentlemen, that you will come and have dinner with me at three o’clock. Then we shall be more free!”
Neither Solomin nor Nejdanov knew what to say, but Markelov replied instantly, with that same severity in his face and voice:
“Of course we will come.” ”

“ I answered hotly. “Let us wait for Markov; he is a shrewd, cunning fellow, and may find out something.”
“I am anxious about Mademoiselle Broumoff, Count,” said Spernow, eager, as I could see, to get tidings of her. I sympathised with him, as well may be understood.
“Go in quest of her at once,” I said; “and, when you can, return to my house, and we will thresh out some plan of action. We may have news by then.”
[250] He was off like the wind, and Zoiloff and I waited on in silence for Markov to return. ”

“ From that day the ice was broken, and Markov assumed a proper place in the family of the “Iron Division.” I have never met a man who loved military work to such an extent as Markov. [Pg 80] He was young (when he was killed in the summer of 1918 in action he was only 39 years of age) , impetuous, communicative, eloquent. He knew how to approach, and closely, too, any milieu—officers, soldiers, crowds—sometimes far from sympathetic, and how to instil into them his straightforward, clear, and indisputable articles of faith. ”

“ And so she was forced to sit silent and listen to Markov, who with every moment came nearer to dangerous revelations.
"The end must soon come," the false priest was saying. "The world is weary of blood-letting. Germany is beyond reach---beyond help of the Church. I have done what I could, but I am going beyond its borders to Switzerland--to escape its persecutions. I have had enough."
"And I," said Markov; "it is there that I go too with--with my good Fra Umberto."
"The weather threatens again. Where shall you sleep tonight, my son?" ”

“ I promised Markoff to deliver his message, and on my way back I heard the soldiers laughing and singing. Sick at heart, and utterly disgusted at their behaviour, I reported it to the Empress. “Les malheureux,” she said, “ce n’est pas leur faute, c’est la faute à ceux qui les trompent.” She granted poor young Markoff’s request, and told me to see General Resin, and arrange for Markoff to be included in his detachment. ”