On the Eve: Chapter 26

Chapter 26

For eight whole days Insarov lay between life and death. The doctor
was incessantly visiting him, interested as a young man in a difficult
case. Shubin heard of Insarov's critical position, and made inquiries
after him. His compatriots--Bulgarians--came; among them Bersenyev
recognised the two strange figures, who had puzzled him by their
unexpected visit to the cottage; they all showed genuine sympathy,
some offered to take Bersenyev's place by the patient's bed-side; but
he would not consent to that, remembering his promise to Elena. He saw
her every day and secretly reported to her--sometimes by word of
mouth, sometimes in a brief note--every detail of the illness. With
what sinkings of the heart she awaited him, how she listened and
questioned him! She was always on the point of hastening to Insarov
herself; but Bersenyev begged her not to do this: Insarov was seldom
alone. On the first day she knew of his illness she
herself had almost fallen ill; directly she got home, she shut
herself up in her room; but she was summoned to dinner, and appeared
in the dining-room with such a face that Anna Vassilyevna was
alarmed, and was anxious to put her to bed. Elena succeeded, however,
in controlling herself. 'If he dies,' she repeated, 'it will be the
end of me too.' This thought tranquillised her, and enabled her to
seem indifferent. Besides no one troubled her much; Anna Vassilyevna
was taken up with her swollen face; Shubin was working furiously;
Zoya was given up to pensiveness, and disposed to read _Werther_;
Nikolai Artemyevitch was much displeased at the frequent visits of
'the scholar,' especially as his 'cherished projects' in regard to
Kurnatovsky were making no way; the practical chief secretary was
puzzled and biding his time. Elena did not even thank Bersenyev; there
are services for which thanks are cruel and shameful. Only once at her
fourth interview with him--Insarov had passed a very bad night, the
doctor had hinted at a consultation--only then she reminded him of
his promise. 'Very well, then let us go,' he said to her. She got up
and was going to get ready. 'No,' he decided, 'let us wait till
to-morrow.' Towards evening Insarov was rather better.

For eight days this torture was prolonged. Elena appeared calm; but
she could eat nothing, and did not sleep at night. There was a dull
ache in all her limbs; her head seemed full of a sort of dry burning
smoke. 'Our young lady's wasting like a candle,' her maid said of her.

At last by the ninth day the crisis was passing over. Elena was
sitting in the drawing-room near Anna Vassilyevna, and, without
knowing herself what she was doing, was reading her the _Moscow
Gazette_; Bersenyev came in. Elena glanced at him--how rapid, and
fearful, and penetrating, and tremulous, was the first glance she
turned on him every time--and at once she guessed that he brought good
news. He was smiling; he nodded slightly to her, she got up to go and
meet him.

'He has regained consciousness, he is saved, he will be quite well
again in a week,' he whispered to her.

Elena had stretched out her arm as though to ward off a blow, and she
said nothing, only her lips trembled and a flush of crimson overspread
her whole face. Bersenyev began to talk to Anna Vassilyevna, and Elena
went off to her own room, dropped on her knees and fell to praying, to
thanking God. Light, shining tears trickled down her cheeks. Suddenly
she was conscious of intense weariness, laid her head down on the
pillow, whispered 'poor Andrei Petrovitch!' and at once fell asleep
with wet eheeks and eyelashes. It was long since she had slept or
wept.

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