Viy — Страница 28

"
"You oughtn't to have made such a detour," Yavtukh went on.
"Much better to take the path I did: straight past the stables. And
it's too bad about the frock coat. Good broadcloth. How much did you pay per
yard? Anyhow, we've had a nice walk, it's time for home,"
The philosopher, scratching himself, trudged after Yavtukh. "The
accursed witch will give me a hot time now," he thought. "Though what's with
me, really? What am 1 afraid of? Am I not a Cossack? I did read for two
nights, God will help with the third. The accursed witch must have done a
good deal of sinning for the unclean powers to stand by her like that."
These reflections occupied him as he entered the master's yard. Having
encouraged himself with such observations, he persuaded liorosh, who,
through his connection with the steward, occasionally had access to the
master's cellar, to fetch a jug of rotgut, and the two friends, sitting
under the shed, supped not much less than half a bucket, so that the
philosopher, suddenly getting to his feet, shouted: "Musicians! We must have
musicians!"--and, without waiting for the musicians, broke into a trepak in
the cleared spot in the middle of the yard. He danced until it came time for
the afternoon snack, when the household people, standing in a circle around
him, as is usual in such cases, finally spat and went away, saying, "Look
how long the mans been dancing!" Finally the philosopher went right to
sleep, and only a good dousing with cold water could wake him up for supper.
Over supper he talked about what a Cossack is and how he should not be
afraid of anything in the world.
"It's time," said Yavtukh, "let's go."
"Bite on a nail, you accursed hog!" thought the philosopher, and
getting to his feet, said:
"Let's go."
On the way, the philosopher constantly glanced to right and left and
tried to talk a little with his guides. But Yavtukh kept mum; Dorosh himself
was untalkative. The night was infernal. Far off a whole pack of wolves
howled. And even the dogs' barking was somehow frightening.
"Seems like it's something else howling--that's not a wolf," said
Dorosh.
Yavtukh kept mum. The philosopher found nothing to say.
They approached the church and stepped in under its decrepit vaults,
which showed how little the owner of the estate cared about God and his own
soul. Yavtukh and Dorosh withdrew as before, and the philosopher remained
alone. Everything was the same. Everything had the same menacingly familiar
look. He paused for a minute. In the middle, as ever, stood the motionless
coffin of the terrible witch. "I won't be afraid, by God, I won't be
afraid!" he said, and, again drawing a circle around himself, he began
recalling all his incantations.