Short stories, Russian -- Translations into English
A bare-footed unshaven man in dark blue pantaloons and cotton shirt
presented himself. His stocky figure and red face made a wholesome
appearance. He was the Captain's orderly.
"At your service, your Excellency."
"Listen, Semyonov, you don't seem to be stupid."
"I don't know, your Excellency."
"For goodness' sake, drop 'your Excellency.' I am not your superior
officer."
"Yes, your Excel--"
"Idiot!"
But the lady's manner toward the servant was far friendlier than
toward her husband. Semyonov had it in his power to perform important
services for her, while the captain had not come up to her
expectations.
"Listen, Semyonov, how do you and the doctor's men get along together?
Are you friendly?"
"Yes, your Excellency."
"Intolerable!" cried the lady, jumping up. "Stop using that silly
title. Can't you speak like a sensible man?"
Semyonov had been standing in the stiff attitude of attention, with
the palms of his hands at the seams of his trousers. Now he suddenly
relaxed, and even wiped his nose with his fist.
"That's the way we are taught to do," he said carelessly, with a
clownish grin. "The gentlemen, the officers, insist on it."
"Now, tell me, you are on good terms with the doctor's men?"
"You mean Podmar and Shuchok? Of course, we're friends."
"Very well, then go straight to them and try to find out when Mrs.
Shaldin is expected back. They ought to know. They must be getting
things ready against her return--cleaning her bedroom and fixing it
up. Do you understand? But be careful to find out right. And also be
very careful not to let on for whom you are finding it out. Do you
understand?'
"Of course, I understand."
"Well, then, go. But one more thing. Since you're going out, you may
as well stop at Abramka's again and tell him to come here right away.
You understand?"
"But his Excellency gave me orders to stay at home," said Semyonov,
scratching himself behind his ears.
"Please don't answer back. Just do as I tell you. Go on, now."
"At your service." And the orderly, impressed by the lady's severe
military tone, left the room.
Mrs. Zarubkin remained reclining on the sofa for a while. Then she
rose and walked up and down the room and finally went to her bedroom,
where her two little daughters were playing in their nurse's care. She
scolded them a bit and returned to her former place on the couch. Her
every movement betrayed great excitement.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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