Читать книгу Anna Karenina - 2 Classic Unabridged Translations in one eBook (Garnett and Maude translations) - Leo Tolstoy - Страница 58

ON their way home Levin inquired the particulars of Kitty’s illness and of the Shcherbatskys’ plans, and though he would have been ashamed to confess it, what he heard was agreeable to him. It was agreeable because there was still hope for him, and even more because she was suffering, she who had made him suffer so much. But when Oblonsky began to speak of what caused Kitty’s illness and to mention Vronsky’s name, Levin interrupted him:

‘I have no right whatever to know such family details, and frankly I am not interested in them either.’

Oblonsky gave a scarcely perceptible smile on noticing the quick change, so familiar to him, in Levin’s face, which became as gloomy as it had been bright a moment before.

‘Have you finally settled with Ryabinin about the forest?’ asked Levin.

‘Yes, I have. I’m getting a splendid price for it: thirty-eight thousand roubles; eight at once, and the rest to be paid within six years. I have been bothering about it a long time. No one would give more.’

‘The fact is you are giving the forest away,’ said Levin moodily.

‘Why giving away?’ said Oblonsky with a good-natured smile, knowing well that everything would now seem wrong to Levin.

‘Because the forest is worth at least five hundred roubles a desyatina,’ replied Levin.

‘Oh, you country gentlemen!’ said Oblonsky jokingly. ‘And your tone of contempt for us poor townfolk! … But when it comes to getting business done, we do it better than anyone. Believe me, I have reckoned it all out,’ continued he, ‘and have sold the forest so well that I am afraid he may change his mind. You know it’s not timber but, for the most part, only fit for fuel,’ said he, hoping by this remark finally to convince Levin of the injustice of his suspicions. ‘And it will not yield more than ten sazhens of wood to the desyatina … and he is paying me at the rate of two hundred roubles.’

Levin smiled contemptuously. ‘I know this manner,’ he thought, ‘not his only, but all townsmen’s, who visit the country two or three times in ten years, get hold of two or three expressions, use them in and out of season, and are firmly convinced they know everything. “Timber”, and “yield ten sazhens”. He uses these words but understands nothing about the business.’

‘I should not try to teach you the things you scribble about at your office,’ he said, ‘but in case of need would come to you for advice about them, but you are firmly convinced that you understand all this forest lore. It is not easy! Have you counted the trees?’

‘How can one count the trees?’ said Oblonsky, still anxious to dispel his friend’s ill-humour.

“Count grains of sand, and planets’ rays,

E’en though a lofty mind were able …” ’

‘Well, Ryabinin’s lofty mind is able to do it. And no dealer will ever buy without first counting, unless the forest is given to him for nothing, as you are doing. I know your forest. I go shooting there every year, and it is worth five hundred roubles a desyatina cash down, and he is paying you two hundred on long term. That means that you have made him a present of about thirty thousand roubles.’

‘Come, don’t get so carried away,’ said Oblonsky piteously. ‘Why did no one offer more?’

‘Because he and the other dealers are in league, and he has bought them off. I have had dealings with them all, and I know them. They are not genuine dealers, but sharks. He would not consider a deal which would bring him in ten or fifteen per cent; he waits till he can buy at a fifth of the value.’

‘Oh, come! You are down in the dumps to-day.’

‘Not at all,’ said Levin gloomily, just as they drove up to the house.

At the porch stood a little cart strongly bound with leather and iron, and to the cart was harnessed a well-fed horse with broad, tightly-stretched straps. In the cart sat Ryabinin’s clerk (who also performed a coachman’s duties), his skin tightly stretched over his full-blooded face and his belt drawn tight. Ryabinin himself was already in the house and met the two friends in the hall. He was a tall, spare, middle-aged man, with a moustache, a prominent shaven chin, and prominent dim eyes. He wore a long-skirted blue coat with buttons very low down at the back, high boots drawn quite straight over the calves of his legs and crinkled round the ankles, and over them he had on a pair of large goloshes. He wiped his face all round with his handkerchief and smoothing his coat, which was already quite in order, smilingly greeted the new arrivals. He held out his hand to Oblonsky as if he were trying to catch something.

‘Oh, so you have come,’ said Oblonsky taking his hand. ‘That’s right!’

‘I dared not disobey your Excellency’s commands, though the roads are quite too bad. I have literally had to walk all the way, but I have arrived in time… .’

‘Constantine Dmitrich, my respects to you!’ he said turning to Levin and trying to catch his hand too. But Levin, frowning, pretended not to see the hand, and began taking the snipe out of the game-bag.

‘You have been pleased to amuse yourself with shooting? What kind of bird may that be?’ added Ryabinin, looking contemptuously at the snipe. ‘Something tasty?’ and he shook his head disapprovingly as if much doubting whether this game were worth the candle.

‘Would you like to go into my study?’ said Levin, frowning moodily, and addressing Oblonsky in French; ‘Go into the study, you can talk things over there.’

‘That would do very well, — or wherever you like,’ remarked Ryabinin with contemptuous dignity, as if to show them that though others might find it difficult to know how to behave with different people, yet for him no difficulty of any kind could ever exist.

On entering the study Ryabinin looked round by force of habit as though to find the icon, but after finding it he did not cross himself. He glanced at the book cupboards and bookshelves with the same look of doubt as he had bestowed on the snipe, smiled contemptuously, and again shook his head disapprovingly, decidedly refusing to admit that this game could be worth the candle.

‘Well, have you brought the money?’ asked Oblonsky. ‘Take a seat.’

‘There won’t be any difficulty about the money. I’ve come to see you and to talk matters over.’

‘Talk what matters over? But do take a seat.’

‘I can do that,’ said Ryabinin, sitting down and putting his arm on the back of his chair in a most uncomfortable way. ‘You must let me off something, Prince. You’re wronging me. As to the money, it is all ready to the last kopek. There will be no delay about the money.’

Levin, who had been putting away his gun in a cupboard, was just going out of the door, but on hearing the dealer’s words he stopped.

‘As it is you are getting the forest for next to nothing,’ he said. ‘He came to me too late, else I would have fixed the price.’

Ryabinin rose and smiled silently, surveying Levin from his feet to his head.

‘He is very close, is Constantine Dmitrich,’ he said, addressing Oblonsky with a smile. ‘It’s absolutely impossible to buy anything of him. I’ve been bargaining with him for wheat and offering a good price.’

‘Why should I give you what is mine for nothing? I have not found it on the ground nor stolen it.’

‘Oh dear no, nowadays it is quite impossible to steal. Absolutely everything nowadays goes before a jury, everything is judged honourably, there’s no possibility of stealing. We speak honestly. It’s too much for the forest, there’s no making any profit on it. I am asking to have something knocked off, if only a trifle.’

‘Well, have you settled the business or not? If you have, there’s no use bargaining, but if not,’ said Levin, ‘I will buy the forest myself.’

The smile vanished from Ryabinin’s face, which assumed a hawk-like, rapacious, and cruel expression. With his bony fingers he rapidly unfastened his coat, exposing his braided shirt, the brass buttons of his waistcoat, and a watch-chain, and quickly took out a thick old pocket-book.

‘If you please, the forest is mine,’ he said, rapidly crossing himself and holding out his hand. ‘Take your money, the forest is mine. That’s the way Ryabinin does business, no fussing about kopeks,’ he said, frowning and flourishing his pocket-book.

‘If I were you I should not be in a hurry to take it,’ remarked Levin.

‘What d’you mean?’ said Oblonsky with surprise. ‘Why, I’ve given my word.’

Levin went out and slammed the door. Ryabinin looked at it and smiled, shaking his head.

‘That’s all his youthfulness, his absolute childishness. Why, I am making this purchase, believe me, just for the honour and glory of the thing, so that it should be Ryabinin and not another that has bought Oblonsky’s forest. But it’s still a question whether by God’s mercy I can make a profit. Believe me, before God! Please, sir, the agreement must be written …’

An hour later the dealer, with his coat well lapped over, the hooks of his overcoat carefully fastened, and with the agreement in his pocket, seated himself in his little cart and drove home.

‘Oh, these gentlefolks!’ he remarked to his clerk, while hooking up the leather apron of the cart, ‘regular objects!’

‘But may I congratulate you on the purchase, Michael Ignatich?’

‘Well, well …’