The Jew and Other StoriesTurgenev, Ivan Sergeevich
General
The Jew and Other Stories
Turgenev, Ivan Sergeevich
Russia -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Turgenev, Ivan Sergeevich, 1818-1883 -- Translations into English
A horrible change suddenly came over Girshel. Instead of the ordinary
timorous alarm peculiar to the Jewish nature, in his face was reflected
the horrible agony that comes before death. He writhed like a wild beast
trapped, his mouth stood open, there was a hoarse rattle in his throat,
he positively leapt up and down, convulsively moving his elbows. He had
on only one slipper; they had forgotten to put the other on again... his
gown fell open... his cap had fallen off....
We all shuddered; the general stopped speaking.
'Your Excellency,' I began again, 'pardon this wretched creature.'
'Impossible! It is the law,' the general replied abruptly, and not
without emotion, 'for a warning to others.'
'For pity's sake....'
'Mr. Cornet, be so good as to return to your post,' said the general,
and he motioned me imperiously to the door.
I bowed and went out. But seeing that in reality I had no post anywhere,
I remained at no great distance from the general's house.
Two minutes later Girshel made his appearance, conducted by Siliavka and
three soldiers. The poor Jew was in a state of stupefaction, and could
hardly move his legs. Siliavka went by me to the camp, and soon returned
with a rope in his hands. His coarse but not ill-natured face wore a
look of strange, exasperated commiseration. At the sight of the rope the
Jew flung up his arms, sat down, and burst into sobs. The soldiers stood
silently about him, and stared grimly at the earth. I went up to
Girshel, addressed him; he sobbed like a baby, and did not even look at
me. With a hopeless gesture I went to my tent, flung myself on a rug,
and closed my eyes....
Suddenly some one ran hastily and noisily into my tent. I raised my head
and saw Sara; she looked beside herself. She rushed up to me, and
clutched at my hands.
'Come along, come along,' she insisted breathlessly.
'Where? what for? let us stop here.'
'To father, to father, quick... save him... save him!'
'To what father?'
'My father; they are going to hang him....'
'What! is Girshel...?'
'My father... I '11 tell you all about it later,' she added, wringing
her hands in despair: 'only come... come....'
We ran out of the tent. In the open ground, on the way to a solitary
birch-tree, we could see a group of soldiers.... Sara pointed to them
without speaking....
'Stop,' I said to her suddenly: 'where are we running to? The soldiers
won't obey me.'
Sara still pulled me after her.... I must confess, my head was going
round.
'But listen, Sara,' I said to her; 'what sense is there in running here?
It would be better for me to go to the general again; let's go together;
who knows, we may persuade him.'
Sara suddenly stood still and gazed at me, as though she were crazy.
'Understand me, Sara, for God's sake. I can't do anything for your
father, but the general can. Let's go to him.'
'But meanwhile they'll hang him,' she moaned....
I looked round. The secretary was standing not far off.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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