Seraskier

“ But this clemency appeared to have seduced also four hundred Skipetars who made use of the amnesty and the money with which Ali provided them, to raise Toxis and the Tapygetae in the latter’s favour. Thus the Seraskier’s scheme turned against himself, and he perceived he had been deceived by Ali’s seeming apathy, which certainly did not mean dread of defection. In fact, no man worth anything could have abandoned him, supported as he seemed to be by almost supernatural courage. ”

“ And under his greyish moustache his lips quivered piteously.
Praskovya Mikhaylovna pressed her hands to her withered breast, opened her mouth, and stood petrified, staring at the pilgrim with dilated eyes.
‘It can’t be! Stepa! Sergey! Father Sergius!’
‘Yes, it is I,’ said Sergius in a low voice. ‘Only not Sergius, or Father Sergius, but a great sinner, Stepan Kasatsky—a great and lost sinner. Take me in and help me!’
‘It’s impossible! How have you so humbled yourself? ”

“ Sergius reverted to me. He was born at Rostoff. Filled with pious impulses more than dissatisfied with the world, of which he knew nothing, with a brother, he left his father's house when yet a youth and betook himself to a great woods in the region Radenego; there he dwelt among savage beasts and wild men, fasting and praying and dependent like Elijah of old. His life became a notoriety. Others drew to him. With his own hands he built a wooden church for his disciples, giving it the name of Troitza or Thrice Holy Trinity. ”

“ However, ‘Give it me,’ said I. And from that time, my dear boy, I’ve been going about the world with another man’s passport.”
“Ah, grandfather, grandfather!” sighed Sergey, with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry about the dog. It’s a very fine dog, you know....”
“Serozhenka, my darling,” cried the old man trembling. “If only I had a real passport. Do you think it would matter to me even if they were generals? I’d take them by the throat!... How’s this? One minute, if you please! What right have you to steal other people’s dogs? What law is there for that? But now there’s a stopper on us, Serozha. ”

“ You are men, are you not? And I? and I? . . ."
"Mother!" and Sergey threw himself into her arms.
The last words of the colonel were:
"My blessing for your death, Sergey! Die with courage, like an officer!"
And they went away. . . . On returning to his cell Sergey lay upon his camp-bed, with face turned toward the wall that the soldiers might not see him, and wept a long time.
•⁠•⁠•⁠•⁠•⁠•⁠•⁠•⁠•
Vasily Kashirin's mother came alone to visit him. The father, a rich merchant, had refused to accompany her. When the old woman entered, Vasily was walking in his cell. ”

“ He brought into all his acts, into his pleasures and into his preparations for crime, the same happy and tranquil gravity: everything in life was gay, everything was important, worthy of being well done.
And he did everything well; he sailed a boat admirably, he was an excellent marksman. He was as faithful in friendship as in love, and had an unshakeable confidence in the "word of honor." His comrades declared laughingly that, if one who had been proved a spy should swear to Sergey that he was not a spy, Sergey would believe him and shake hands with him. ”

“ Upon the instant, Sergius sprang forward to reopen the door. Convinced of her perfidy, and madly lashing himself into yet further fury with the consciousness of his wrongs, it was as yet not in his mind that even by accident such a forced separation as this should befall her. His hand was upon the bolt—in another second it would have been drawn back—when his further action was arrested by a few lowly uttered words of Leta. ”

“ From every lip, as but one voice, rose a cry of admiration, amazement, and delight, for Serapis stood revealed to his people.
The noble manhood of the god sat with dignity on a golden throne that was covered with a blaze of jewels; his gracious and solemn face looked down on the crowd of worshippers. The hair that curled upon his thoughtful brow, and the kalathos that crowned it were of pure gold At his feet crouched Cerberus, raising his three fierce heads with glistening ruby eyes. The body of the god—a model of strength in repose—and the drapery were of gold and ivory. ”

“ When winter came and we moved to the city, Peter Sergeitch seldom came to see us. Country acquaintances are only attractive in the country. In town, in the winter, they lose half their charm. When they come to call they look as if they were wearing borrowed clothes, and they stir their tea much too long. Peter Sergeitch sometimes spoke of love, but his words did not sound as enchanting as they had in the country. Here we felt more keenly the barrier between us. I was titled and rich; he was poor and was not even a noble, but an examining magistrate, the son of a deacon. ”

“ You will kill him if you weep, mother!"
"And why do you weep yourself?"
"Why should one not weep here with the rest of you? You must not weep, do you hear?"
"All right, Nicolas Sergiévitch."
They got into a cab and started off, silent, bent, old; they were plunged in their thoughts amid the gay roar of the city; it was the carnival season, and the streets were filled with a noisy crowd.
They sat down. The colonel assumed a suitable attitude, his right hand thrust in the front of his frock-coat. Sergey remained seated a moment; his look met his mother's wrinkled face; he rose suddenly. ”

“ I am only remonstrating with them,’ replied the merchant. ‘You know they wouldn’t hesitate to drive a man to death. They have no pity, they only consider themselves.... You’ve been told you cannot see him. Go away! To-morrow!’ And he got rid of them all.
He took all these pains because he liked order and liked to domineer and drive the people away, but chiefly because he wanted to have Father Sergius to himself. He was a widower with an only daughter who was an invalid and unmarried, and whom he had brought fourteen hundred versts to Father Sergius to be healed. ”

“ Of equal importance to the work initiated by any Tsar were the services of St Sergius, founder of the great monastery at Troitsa, which at one time possessed immense tracts of land and owned more than 100,000 serfs. Sergius was born at Great Rostov, and in his youth passed some time near Moscow, and later, having a dozen disciples and the aid of the Patriarch of Constantinople, helped greatly the colonisation of Russia by sending out monks trained at Troitsa. He lived the life of a hermit, and even when abbot did his full share of the menial labour. ”

“ I had been out making some visits, and on my return, found Seraphina standing at the window of my father’s study, seemingly absorbed in deep reverie, and with her eyes fixed like those of a marble statue. I had been so accustomed to those moods of silent abstraction, that though I wished her to speak, I did not like to disturb her,—but looked from the window into the garden, where, to my utter astonishment, I saw my father walking, and with him—the identical Seraphina, who now stood motionless beside me. ‘Heaven have mercy! ”

“ Shall we play for him?'
'No! a thousand times, no!' exclaimed Sergius, striking the table so heavily with his open hand that the dice danced and the flagons shook. 'Were you to offer me thrice his value—to pay off my forfeit to Sardesus to [Pg 524] the last sestertium—to gain me back my quarry and my vineyards—all that I have lost—I would not give up that slave. My purpose is sweeter to me than all the gold you could offer, and I will not be cheated out of it. That slave dies to-morrow in the amphitheatre—between the lion's jaws!'
'Dies? In the arena?' was the astonished exclamation. ”

“ Trespassers will be prosecuted,” and Sergey read this out aloud.
“Friendship?” questioned grandfather, who himself could not read. “Vo-vo! That’s one of the finest of words—friendship. All day we’ve failed, but this house will make up for it. I smell it with my nose, as if I were a hunting dog. Now, Arto, come here, old fellow. Walk up bravely, Serozha. Keep your eye on me, and if you want to know anything just ask me. I know all.” ”

“ Grandfather undressed without hurry. Shielding his eyes from the sun with his hands, and wrinkling his brows, he looked at Sergey and grinned knowingly.
“He’s not bad; the boy is growing,” thought Lodishkin to himself. “Plenty of bones—all his ribs showing; but all the same, he’ll be a strong fellow.”
“Hey, Serozhska, don’t you get going too far. A sea pig’ll drag you off!”
“If so, I’ll catch it by the tail,” cried Sergey from a distance. ”

“ In general in the seventh year of his life in the monastery Sergius grew weary. He had learnt all there was to learn and had attained all there was to attain, there was nothing more to do and his spiritual drowsiness increased. During this time he heard of his mother’s death and his sister Varvara’s marriage, but both events were matters of indifference to him. His whole attention and his whole interest were concentrated on his inner life. ”

“ The mother left with her son, and a month later the boy recovered, and the fame of the holy healing power of the starets Sergius (as they now called him) spread throughout the whole district. After that, not a week passed without sick people coming, riding or on foot, to Father Sergius; and having acceded to one petition he could not refuse others, and he laid his hands on many and prayed. Many recovered, and his fame spread more and more.
So seven years passed in the Monastery and thirteen in his hermit’s cell. ”

“ At Carnival time, in the sixth year of Sergius’s life at the hermitage, a merry company of rich people, men and women from a neighbouring town, made up a troyka-party, after a meal of carnival-pancakes and wine. The company consisted of two lawyers, a wealthy landowner, an officer, and four ladies. One lady was the officer’s wife, another the wife of the landowner, the third his sister—a young girl—and the fourth a divorcee, beautiful, rich, and eccentric, who amazed and shocked the town by her escapades. ”

“ Next day Father Sergius asked pardon of the Abbot and of the brethren for his pride, but at the same time, after a night spent in prayer, he decided that he must leave this monastery, and he wrote to the starets begging permission to return to him. He wrote that he felt his weakness and incapacity to struggle against temptation without his help and penitently confessed his sin of pride. By return of post came a letter from the starets, who wrote that Sergius’s pride was the cause of all that had happened. ”

“ It had never occurred to Father Sergius that he could cure the sick. He would have regarded such a thought as a great sin of pride; but the mother who brought the boy implored him insistently, falling at his feet and saying: `Why do you, who heal others, refuse to help my son?` She besought him in Christ`s name. When Father Sergius assured her that only God could heal the sick, she replied that she only wanted him to lay his hands on the boy and pray for him. Father Sergius refused and returned to his cell. ”

“ The merchant, having seated Father Sergius on the bench under the elm, took on himself police duties and drove the people off very resolutely. It is true that he spoke in a low voice so that Father Sergius might not hear him, but his words were incisive and angry.
‘Be off, be off! He has blessed you, and what more do you want? Get along with you, or I’ll wring your necks! Move on there! Get along, you old woman with your dirty leg-bands! Go, go! Where are you shoving to? ”

“ Father Sergius was officiating at the Vigil Service in his hermitage church, where the congregation was as large as the little church could hold—about twenty people. They were all well-to-do proprietors or merchants. Father Sergius admitted anyone, but a selection was made by the monk in attendance and by an assistant who was sent to the hermitage every day from the monastery. A crowd of some eighty people—pilgrims and peasants, and especially peasant-women—stood outside waiting for Father Sergius to come out and bless them. ”

“ The merchant said that his daughter, a girl of twenty-two, had fallen ill two years ago, after her mother’s sudden death. She had moaned (as he expressed it) and since then had not been herself. And now he had brought her fourteen hundred versts and she was waiting in the hostelry till Father Sergius should give orders to bring her. She did not go out during the day, being afraid of the light, and could only come after sunset.
‘Is she very weak?’ asked Father Sergius.
‘No, she has no particular weakness. She is quite plump, and is only “nerastenic” the doctors say. ”

“ At one hut he gets beetroot leaves, at another an onion skin, out of which he makes a yellow colour. He swears, shoves, threatens, and not a soul murmurs! They all smile at him, they sympathise with him, call him Sergey Nikititch; they all feel that his art is not his personal affair but something that concerns them all, the whole people. One creates, the others help him. Seryozhka in himself is a nonentity, a sluggard, a drunkard, and a wastrel, but when he has his red lead or compasses in his hand he is at once something higher, a servant of God. ”

“ I will write to him about you, and you must ask for Hilary’s cell. Not that you can replace Hilary, but you need solitude to quell your pride. May God bless you!’
Sergius obeyed the starets, showed his letter to the Abbot, and having obtained his permission, gave up his cell, handed all his possessions over to the monastery, and set out for the Tambov hermitage.
There the Abbot, an excellent manager of merchant origin, received Sergius simply and quietly and placed him in Hilary’s cell, at first assigning to him a lay brother but afterwards leaving him alone, at Sergius’s own request. ”