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Chapter 24 General Manager (2)
"It's all right, Sovron, it's all right," replied Arkady Pavlitch, smiling, "it's all right here."

"Oh, my good lord—where is it? It is fit only for us peasants; but you . . . Forgive me for being a fool, I've gone mad, really, totally gone."

While we were talking, dinner was served, and Arkady Pavlitch began to eat.The old man kicked his son out—saying it was too crowded.

"Well, old man, is the boundary cleared?" asked Mr. Pinochkin, winking at me, evidently trying to imitate the tone of a peasant.

"It's clear, my lord, thanks to you. The list was made the day before yesterday. The Khlenov people were a little awkward at first... Good lord, really, they refused. They demanded this... ...asked for that... who knows what they want; they are a bunch of fools, sir, asses. But we, sir, thanked you and paid the agent Mikolai Mikolai Strange; everything is done according to your orders, my lord, we will do as you order, and Yegor Dmitritch knows all about it."

"Egor told me," said Arkady Pavlitch solemnly.

"Of course, sir, Yegor Dmitritch has reported it, yes."

"So, now, are you all satisfied?" Sofron was waiting for this sentence. "Alas, our good lord, our great benefactor!" he began again, drawing out his voice... "Does that need to be said? . . . Our good lord, we pray to God day and night for you. The land, of course, is still a little less..."

Pinochkin interrupted him:

"Ah, okay, okay, Sofron, I know, you are my loyal servant... So, how is the harvest?"

Sofron sighed.

"Well, our good lord, the crop has not been very good. Well, let me tell you, Mr. Arkady Pavlitch, that this is what happened. (At this point, throwing out his hands, he turns to Binno. Mr. Chiggin comes closer, stoops, and squints one eye.) Found a dead body on our ground."

"how could be?"

"I don't know, our good lord, it must have been the work of the enemy. Fortunately, it was found close to other people's land. But, having said that, it should be on our land. Before the matter was discovered, I immediately called Someone dragged the dead body to other people's land, and sent someone to guard it. I told my own people not to talk nonsense. Just in case, I explained it to the police chief and told him what happened; Tea, and reward him again... Guess what, my lord? The matter will be passed on to someone else; otherwise, two hundred rubles would not be too much for a dead body."

Mr. Pinochkin laughed at the tricks of his steward, nodded to him several times, and said to me: "Quel gaillard, ah?"

By this time it was dark.Arkady Pavlitch ordered the table to be cleared and the hay brought.The footman spread the sheets and pillows for us, and we lay down.Sofron got instructions for the next day and went back.Before going to bed, Arkady Pavlitch said something about the good qualities of the Russian peasantry, and told me that since Sovron was in charge, the peasants of Shibilovka have not owed a penny The tax... the watchman knocked on his clapper.The baby, obviously not yet fully aware of the self-sacrifice he deserved, began to cry somewhere in the room... We fell asleep.

We got up early the next day, and I was going to Ryepovo, but Arkady Pavlitch wanted me to visit his estate and asked me to stay.I personally think that the excellent quality of Sofron, who has done a great job, is also good for me to prove it in fact.Here comes the steward, in a blue coat and a red sash.He talked much less than yesterday, with sharp eyes, staring at the master all the time, and his answers were very orderly and very neat.We went with him to the threshing floor.Sofron's son, the very tall village headman, a complete fool in every respect, also came with us.There was also one of the guards, Feidosejitch, a retired soldier, with a bushy beard and a very strange facial expression, as if he had been frightened by something long ago and never recovered. .We visited the threshing ground, drying shed, roasting room, warehouse, windmill, livestock yard, seedlings, hemp field, and indeed everything was in order.But the dejected faces of the farmers made me a little confused.In addition to practicality, Sofron also paid attention to beauty: firecracker willows were planted next to all the ditches; It looks like a bear with its mouth open and its red tongue sticking out; on the brick livestock yard, there is something that looks like a Greek-style herringbone, under which is inscribed with white powder: "This livestock. One thousand It was built in Shibikovbian Village in [-] years." Arkady Pavlitch was very happy, so he described the benefits of the labor rent system to me in French, but pointed out that the benefits of the labor rent system were more beneficial to the landlords. More - let's leave this alone! ...He began to give advice to the general manager: how to grow potatoes, how to store feed for livestock, etc.Sovron listened attentively to what his master had to say, and sometimes retorted a few words, but instead of addressing Arkady Pavlitch as a good lord or a benefactor, he only emphasized that there was too little arable land and that he might as well buy more. "What's the matter, buy it," said Arkady Pavlitch, "buy it in my name, I have no objection." Sovron said nothing after hearing this, but stroked his beard. "Now then we might as well go into the woods," said Mr. Pinochkin.Immediately a horse was brought for us to ride, and we rode off into the woods, or, as we say there, into the "no zone."Arkady Pavlitch praised Sofron and patted him on the shoulder for the extremely remote scene that few people have seen in this "forbidden zone".Mr. Binochkin, who held the traditional Russian views on afforestation, told me something that he thought was very interesting: a landowner who liked to play jokes taught his foresters to pluck out his beard. Nearly half of it was lost, to prove that the woods cannot be regenerated by felling... In other respects, however, neither Sovron nor Arkady Pavlitch refused to adopt new methods.Back in the village, the steward showed us a winnowing machine he had recently ordered from Moscow.The winnower is fine indeed, but if Sophron knew what a spoiler awaited him and his master during this last walk, he would probably have liked to stay at home with us.

Something like this happened.We came out of the barn and saw the following: a few steps from the door, there was a filthy puddle, in which three ducks were carelessly paddling, and two ducks were kneeling beside the puddle. Farmers: One is an old man about sixty years old, the other is a young man about twenty years old. Both of them are wearing patched linen shirts, bare feet, and ropes tied around their waists.There the landowner Ferdosejitch tried to dissuade them.If we had lingered a little longer in the shed he might have been able to persuade them to go away, but when he saw us he stood with his hands down and remained motionless.The village chief opened his mouth and stood there with his fists clenched in confusion.Frowning, and biting his lips, Arkady Pavlitch approached the two petitioners.The two kowtowed to him without saying a word.

"What are you going to do? What is your request?" he demanded in a stern, slightly nasal voice. (The two peasants look at each other without saying a word, but squint their eyes as if avoiding the sun, and breathe rapidly.) "Well, what's the matter?" continued Arkady Pavlitch, turning immediately Ask Sovron: "Which family is this?" "Topoleyev's." The steward replied slowly. "Well, what's the matter with you?" Mr. Pinochkin continued. "Don't you have tongues? Tell me, what do you want?" He nodded to the old man, and added: "Don't be afraid, fool."

The old man stretched his dark brown, wrinkled neck, twisted his blue lips, and said hoarsely: "Master, take care of us!" Then he kowtowed on the ground again.The young peasants also knocked down.Arkady Pavlitch looked majestically at the backs of their heads, threw back his head, and parted his feet slightly.

"What's the matter? Who are you accusing?" "Master, have mercy! Let us breathe... We are tortured," said the old man with difficulty. "Who tortured you?" "Sovron Yakovrich, sir." Arkady Pavlitch was silent for a moment. "May I have your name?"

"Antibo, my lord." "Who is this?" "It's my youngest son, my lord."

Arkady Pavlitch was silent again, and his mustache moved. "Well, how did he torture you?" he said, looking contemptuously at the old man through his beard. "My lord, the house was completely destroyed by him. My lord, my two sons were taken as recruits before it was their turn, and now I'm going to take my third son away. My lord, yesterday he took away the last one in my yard Cow, beat my wife again—here, this is the gentleman." (He points to the village chief.) "Huh?" said Arkady Pavlitch. "Don't let our home be completely ruined, benefactor." Mr. Binochkin frowned. "What the hell is going on here?" he asked the steward in a low voice with dissatisfaction.

"Tell me, sir, this is a drunkard," replied the steward for the first time in the most respectful tone, "if you refuse to work, you have owed rent for five years."

"Sovron Yakovrich has paid the rent for me, sir," continued the old man, "for five years, and after he has paid me a slave, sir, and . . . "

"Then why are you in arrears?" asked Mr. Pinochkin sharply.

(The old man lowers his head.) "Is it because he likes to drink and hangs around in the tavern? (The old man opens his mouth to speak.) I know you," continued Arkady Pavlitch angrily. Said, "Your job is to drink all day long, lie on the kang, and let the responsible farmers take the blame for you."

"He's still a rascal," the steward put in the master's words.

"Well, does it need to be said? It's always like this. I've seen it more than once. I've been wandering around and playing rogue all year round, and now I'm just begging for mercy."

"My lord, Arkady Pavlitch," said the old man in despair, "have mercy on us, and what am I a scoundrel? I swear to God, I can't bear it. Sofron Yakovrich hates me, why hates me—let God judge him! The family is completely ruined by him, sir... even this last son... even this... (Old man's Tears glisten in those wrinkled yellow eyes.) Mercy, sir, and make up our minds for us..."

"It's not just our family." The young peasant began to speak... Arkady Pavlitch suddenly became angry:
"Who asked you, huh? If you don't ask, you won't talk... What's the matter? You won't talk, you hear? Shut up! . , rebellion is forbidden with me.... with me... (Arkady Pavlitch takes a step forward, but, no doubt remembering my presence, turns around and puts his hands in his trouser pockets It’s in.) Je vous demande bien par-don, mon cher.” He forced a smile and lowered his voice visibly. "C'est lemauvaisc té de la médaille... Well, well, well," he went on, without looking at the two peasants, "I'll give orders... Well, go. (The peasants didn't Stand up.) Hey, didn’t I tell you... well, go, I’ll give orders, did you hear me?”

Arkady Pavlitch turned his back on them. "I'm always dissatisfied." He murmured through his teeth, and strode back.Sofron followed him.Dibao's eyes widened, as if he was about to jump far away.The village head blasted the duck out of the puddle.The two petitioners stood there for a while, looking at each other, and then walked home slowly, without turning their heads again.

About two hours later, I was already in Lebovo, ready to go hunting with Ambadist, a farmer I knew.Before I left, Binochkin expressed his displeasure with Sovron.I talked to Ambadist about the peasants in Shibilovka, about Mr. Pinochkin, and asked him if he knew the steward there.

"Sovron Yakovrich? ... Oh!" "How is this man?" "He is a dog, not a man, and such a dog cannot be beaten as far as Kursk." "What? speak?"

"The Shibilovka village is only in name... what is his last name? Well, it is the territory of the Binochkin. In fact, the village is not in charge of him, but Sovron." "Really?"

"He manages that village as his property. The peasants over there are all debtors to him and work for him like farmhands: send this one to drive the wagons, send that one there . . . torture them so badly .”

"They don't seem to have much land, do they?" "Not much? He rented 80 dessiatines from the peasants in Khlenov alone, and 120 dessiatins from us, so he has a total of 150 dessiatines. He not only manages the fields, but also sells horses, cattle, asphalt, cheese, hemp, and this and that... capable, really capable, so he made it, this guy! Damn it, He wants to beat people. This is an animal, not a man; people say he is a dog, a vicious dog, a vicious dog indeed."

"Then why didn't they sue him?" "Oh! Their master doesn't care about these things! As long as there is no rent arrears, what else does he care about? Well, go and sue him." He was silent for a while and then said, "Hmph, he will take you... well, try it... no, he will take you..."

I thought of the bottom bowl, and told him what I had seen. "Look," said Ambadiste, "he's going to eat him this time, he's going to swallow him whole. The mayor is going to beat him to death now. Think, woe to the poor man! Why did he suffer this... He talked back to the steward at the village meeting, and he must have been unable to bear it... What a big deal! But he tortured Andibo. Now he is going to kill him Tortured to death. What a dog he is, a vicious dog—God forgive my mouth—he knows who is easy to bully. There are some old men who have a lot of money and a lot of people, and he dare not touch them, the bald man , but this time he's messed up! That's why Antibo's son was taken as a recruit before it was his turn, this unreasonable liar, vicious dog—God forgive my bad mouth."

We went hunting.

Salzbrunn, Silesia, July 1847

(End of this chapter)