Historical fiction; Russia -- Social conditions -- 1801-1917 -- Fiction
“In the evening I used to walk to the waterfall. There was a spot there
which was quite closed in and hidden from view by large trees; and to
this spot the children used to come to me. They could not bear that
their dear Leon should love a poor girl without shoes to her feet and
dressed all in rags and tatters. So, would you believe it, they
actually clubbed together, somehow, and bought her shoes and stockings,
and some linen, and even a dress! I can’t understand how they managed
it, but they did it, all together. When I asked them about it they only
laughed and shouted, and the little girls clapped their hands and
kissed me. I sometimes went to see Marie secretly, too. She had become
very ill, and could hardly walk. She still went with the herd, but
could not help the herdsman any longer. She used to sit on a stone
near, and wait there almost motionless all day, till the herd went
home. Her consumption was so advanced, and she was so weak, that she
used to sit with closed eyes, breathing heavily. Her face was as thin
as a skeleton’s, and sweat used to stand on her white brow in large
drops. I always found her sitting just like that. I used to come up
quietly to look at her; but Marie would hear me, open her eyes, and
tremble violently as she kissed my hands. I did not take my hand away
because it made her happy to have it, and so she would sit and cry
quietly. Sometimes she tried to speak; but it was very difficult to
understand her. She was almost like a madwoman, with excitement and
ecstasy, whenever I came. Occasionally the children came with me; when
they did so, they would stand some way off and keep guard over us, so
as to tell me if anybody came near. This was a great pleasure to them.
“When we left her, Marie used to relapse at once into her old
condition, and sit with closed eyes and motionless limbs. One day she
could not go out at all, and remained at home all alone in the empty
hut; but the children very soon became aware of the fact, and nearly
all of them visited her that day as she lay alone and helpless in her
miserable bed.
“For two days the children looked after her, and then, when the village
people got to know that Marie was really dying, some of the old women
came and took it in turns to sit by her and look after her a bit. I
think they began to be a little sorry for her in the village at last;
at all events they did not interfere with the children any more, on her
account.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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