Poor Folk: Chapter 39

Chapter 39

September 9th.

MY DEAREST BARBARA ALEXIEVNA,--I am beside myself as I take up my
pen, for a most terrible thing has happened. My head is whirling
round. Ah, beloved, how am I to tell you about it all? I had
never foreseen what has happened. But no-- I cannot say that I
had NEVER foreseen it, for my mind DID get an inkling of what was
coming, through my seeing something very similar to it in a
dream.

I will tell you the whole story--simply, and as God may put it
into my heart. Today I went to the office as usual, and, upon
arrival, sat down to write. You must know that I had been engaged
on the same sort of work yesterday, and that, while executing it,
I had been approached by Timothei Ivanovitch with an urgent
request for a particular document. "Makar Alexievitch," he had
said, "pray copy this out for me. Copy it as quickly and as
carefully as you can, for it will require to be signed today."
Also let me tell you, dearest, that yesterday I had not been
feeling myself, nor able to look at anything. I had been troubled
with grave depression--my breast had felt chilled, and my head
clouded. All the while I had been thinking of you, my darling.
Well, I set to work upon the copying, and executed it cleanly and
well, except for the fact that, whether the devil confused my
mind, or a mysterious fate so ordained, or the occurrence was
simply bound to happen, I left out a whole line of the document,
and thus made nonsense of it! The work had been given me too late
for signature last night, so it went before his Excellency this
morning. I reached the office at my usual hour, and sat down
beside Emelia Ivanovitch. Here I may remark that for a long time
past I have been feeling twice as shy and diffident as I used to
do; I have been finding it impossible to look people in the face.
Let only a chair creak, and I become more dead than alive. Today,
therefore, I crept humbly to my seat and sat down in such a
crouching posture that Efim Akimovitch (the most touchy man in
the world) said to me sotto voce: "What on earth makes you sit
like that, Makar Alexievitch?" Then he pulled such a grimace that
everyone near us rocked with laughter at my expense. I stopped my
ears, frowned, and sat without moving, for I found this the best
method of putting a stop to such merriment. All at once I heard a
bustle and a commotion and the sound of someone running towards
us. Did my ears deceive me? It was I who was being  summoned in
peremptory tones! My heart started to tremble within me, though I
could not say why. I only know that never in my life before had
it trembled as it did then. Still I clung to my chair- -and at
that moment was hardly myself at all. The voices were coming
nearer and nearer, until they were shouting in my ear:
"Dievushkin! Dievushkin! Where is Dievushkin?" Then at length I
raised my eyes, and saw before me Evstafi Ivanovitch. He said to
me: "Makar Alexievitch, go at once to his Excellency. You have
made a mistake in a document." That was all, but it was enough,
was it not? I felt dead and cold as ice--I felt absolutely
deprived of the power of sensation; but, I rose from my seat and
went whither I had been bidden. Through one room, through two
rooms, through three rooms I passed, until I was conducted into
his Excellency's cabinet itself. Of my thoughts at that moment I
can give no exact account. I merely saw his Excellency standing
before me, with a knot of people around him. I have an idea that
I did not salute him--that I forgot to do so. Indeed, so panic-
stricken was I, that my teeth were chattering and my knees
knocking together. In the first place, I was greatly ashamed of
my appearance (a glance into a mirror on the right had frightened
me with the reflection of myself that it presented), and, in the
second place, I had always been accustomed to comport myself as
though no such person as I existed. Probably his Excellency had
never before known that I was even alive. Of course, he might
have heard, in passing, that there was a man named Dievushkin in
his department; but never for a moment had he had any intercourse
with me.

He began angrily: "What is this you have done, sir? Why are you
not more careful? The document was wanted in a hurry, and you
have gone and spoiled it. What do you think of it?"--the last
being addressed to Evstafi Ivanovitch. More I did not hear,
except for some flying exclamations of "What negligence and
carelessness! How awkward this is!" and so on. I opened my mouth
to say something or other; I tried to beg pardon, but could not.
To attempt to leave the room, I had not the hardihood. Then there
happened something the recollection of which causes the pen to
tremble in my hand with shame. A button of mine--the devil take
it!--a button of mine that was hanging by a single thread
suddenly broke off, and hopped and skipped and rattled and rolled
until it had reached the feet of his Excellency himself--this
amid a profound general silence! THAT was what came of my
intended self-justification and plea for mercy! THAT was the only
answer that I had to return to my chief!

The sequel I shudder to relate. At once his Excellency's
attention became drawn to my figure and costume. I remembered
what I had seen in the mirror, and hastened to pursue the button.
Obstinacy of a sort seized upon me, and I did my best to arrest
the thing, but it slipped away, and kept turning over and over,
so that I could not grasp it, and made a sad spectacle of myself
with my awkwardness. Then there came over me a feeling that my
last remaining strength was about to leave me, and that all, all
was lost--reputation, manhood, everything! In both ears I seemed
to hear the voices of Theresa and Phaldoni. At length, however, I
grasped the button, and, raising and straightening myself, stood
humbly with clasped hands--looking a veritable fool! But no.
First of all I tried to attach the button to the ragged threads,
and smiled each time that it broke away from them, and smiled
again. In the beginning his Excellency had turned away, but now
he threw me another glance, and I heard him say to Evstafi
Ivanovitch: "What on earth is the matter with the fellow? Look at
the figure he cuts! Who to God is he? Ah, beloved, only to hear
that, "Who to God is he? Truly I had made myself a marked man! In
reply to his Excellency Evstafi murmured: "He is no one of any
note, though his character is good. Besides, his salary is
sufficient as the scale goes." "Very well, then; but help him out
of his difficulties somehow," said his Excellency. "Give him a
trifle of salary in advance." "It is all forestalled," was the
reply. "He drew it some time ago. But his record is good. There
is nothing against him." At this I felt as though I were in Hell
fire. I could actually have died! "Well, well," said his
Excellency, "let him copy out the document a second time.
Dievushkin, come here. You are to make another copy of this
paper, and to make it as quickly as possible." With that he
turned to some other officials present, issued to them a few
orders, and the company dispersed. No sooner had they done so
than his Excellency hurriedly pulled out a pocket-book, took
thence a note for a hundred roubles, and, with the words, "Take
this. It is as much as I can afford. Treat it as you like,"
placed the money in my hand! At this, dearest, I started and
trembled, for I was moved to my very soul. What next I did I
hardly know, except that I know that I seized his Excellency by
the hand. But he only grew very red, and then--no, I am not
departing by a hair's-breadth from the truth--it is true-- that
he took this unworthy hand in his, and shook it! Yes, he took
this hand of mine in his, and shook it, as though I had been his
equal, as though I had been a general like himself! "Go now," he
said. "This is all that I can do for you. Make no further
mistakes, and I will overlook your fault."

What I think about it is this: I beg of you and of Thedora, and
had I any children I should beg of them also, to pray ever to God
for his Excellency. I should say to my children: "For your father
you need not pray; but for his Excellency, I bid you pray until
your lives shall end." Yes, dear one--I tell you this in all
solemnity, so hearken well unto my words--that though, during
these cruel days of our adversity, I have nearly died of distress
of soul at the sight of you and your poverty, as well as at the
sight of myself and my abasement and helplessness, I yet care
less for the hundred roubles which his Excellency has given me
than for the fact that he was good enough to take the hand of a
wretched drunkard in his own and press it. By that act he
restored me to myself. By that act he revived my courage, he made
life forever sweet to me. . . . Yes, sure am I that, sinner
though I be before the Almighty, my prayers for the happiness and
prosperity of his Excellency will yet ascend to the Heavenly
Throne! . . .

But, my darling, for the moment I am terribly agitated and
distraught. My heart is beating as though it would burst my
breast, and all my body seems weak. . . . I send you forty-five
roubles in notes. Another twenty I shall give to my landlady, and
the remaining thirty-five I shall keep--twenty for new clothes
and fifteen for actual living expenses. But these experiences of
the morning have shaken me to the core, and I must rest awhile.
It is quiet, very quiet, here. My breath is coming in jerks--deep
down in my breast I can hear it sobbing and trembling. . . . I
will come and see you soon, but at the moment my head is aching
with these various sensations. God sees all things, my darling,
my priceless treasure!--Your steadfast friend,

MAKAR DIEVUSHKIN.

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