And thereupon Iván related to me his grief.
He had been swapped twenty years previously by the Messrs. Sukhóy for another serf, a man belonging to the Telyégins—he had simply been exchanged, without any formalities and documents. The man who had been given in exchange for him had died, but the Messrs. Sukhóy had forgotten all about Iván and had left him in Alexyéi Sergyéitch's house as his property; his nickname alone served as a reminder of his origin.[46]—But lo and behold! his former owners had died also, their estate had fallen into other hands, and the new owner, concerning whom rumours were in circulation to the effect that he was a cruel man, a torturer, having learned that one of his serfs was to be found at Alexyéi Sergyéitch's without any passport and right, began to demand his return; in case of refusal he threatened to have recourse to the courts and a penalty—and he did not threaten idly, as he himself held the rank of Privy Councillor,[47] and had great weight in the government.[48] Iván, in his affright, darted to Alexyéi Sergyéitch. The old man was sorry for his dancer, and he offered to buy Iván from the privy councillor at a good price; but the privy councillor would not hear of such a thing; he was a Little Russian and obstinate as the devil. The poor fellow had to be surrendered.
"I have got used to living here, I have made myself at home here, I have eaten bread here, and here I wish to die," Ivan said to me—and there was no grin on his face now; on the contrary, he seemed turned into stone…. "But now I must go to that malefactor…. Am I a dog that I am to be driven from one kennel to another with a slip-noose round my neck—and a 'take that'? Save me, master; entreat your uncle,—remember how I have always amused you…. Or something bad will surely come of it; the matter will not pass off without sin."
"Without what sin, Iván?"
"Why, I will kill that gentleman.—When I arrive I shall say to him: 'Let me go back, master; otherwise, look out, beware…. I will kill you.'"
If a chaffinch or a bullfinch could talk and had begun to assure me that it would claw another bird, it would not have caused me greater astonishment than did Iván on that occasion.—What! Ványa Sukhíkh, that dancer, jester, buffoon, that favourite of the children, and a child himself—that kindest-hearted of beings—a murderer! What nonsense! I did not believe him for a single moment. I was startled in the extreme that he should have been able to utter such a word! Nevertheless, I betook myself to Alexyéi Sergyéitch. I did not repeat to him what Iván had said to me, but I tried in every way to beg him to see whether he could not set the matter right.
"My little sir," the old man replied to me, "I would be only too delighted, but how can I?—I have offered that Topknot[49] huge remuneration. I offered him three hundred rubles, I assure thee on my honour! but in vain. What is one to do? We had acted illegally, on faith, after the ancient fashion … and now see what a bad thing has come of it! I am sure that Topknot will take Iván from me by force the first thing we know; he has a strong hand, the Governor eats sour cabbage-soup with him—the Topknot will send a soldier! I'm afraid of those soldiers! In former days, there's no denying it, I would have defended Iván,—but just look at me now, how decrepit I have grown. How am I to wage war?"—And, in fact, during my last visit I found that Alexyéi Sergyéitch had aged very greatly; even the pupils of his eyes had acquired a milky hue—like that in infants—and on his lips there appeared not the discerning smile of former days, but that strainedly-sweet, unconscious smirk which never leaves the faces of very old people even in their sleep.
I imparted Alexyéi Sergyéitch's decision to Iván. He stood a while, held his peace, and shook his head.—"Well," he said at last, "what is fated to be cannot be avoided. Only my word is firm. That is to say: only one thing remains for me … play the wag to the end.—Master, please give me something for liquor!" I gave it; he drank himself drunk—and on that same day he danced "the fish" in such wise that the maidens and married women fairly squealed with delight, so whimsically amusing was he.
The next day I went home, and three months later—when I was already in Petersburg—I learned that Iván had actually kept his word!—He had been sent to his new master; his master had summoned him to his study and announced to him that he was to serve as his coachman, that he entrusted him with a tróika of Vyátka horses,[50] and that he should exact a strict account from him if he treated them badly, and, in general, if he were not punctual.—"I'm not fond of jesting," he said.—Iván listened to his master, first made obeisance to his very feet, and then informed him that it was as his mercy liked, but he could not be his servant.—"Release me on quit-rent, Your High-Born," he said, "or make a soldier of me; otherwise there will be a catastrophe before long."
The master flared up.—"Akh, damn thee! What is this thou darest to say to me?—Know, in the first place, that I am 'Your Excellency,' and not 'Your High-Born'; in the second place, thou art beyond the age, and thy size is not such that I can hand thee over as a soldier; and, in conclusion,—what calamity art thou threatening me with? Art thou preparing to commit arson?"