Part 5 (1/2)
Thus the lower cla.s.ses speak of every unexpected event which may serve as a pretext for feasting or drinking.
”An occasion! What is it? A baptism? A betrothal? A wedding or a funeral? Is any one dead, any accident? I'll venture you have come to ask for some brandy on credit.”
”No, indeed, sir; but I chanced to hear something, and I wanted to tell my lord the merchant about it. It is perhaps an opportunity to make something.”
”Let me hear; what is there to be made?” said Szmula, rising, thrusting his hands into his girdle, and approaching Chwedko.
”Your Honour” (this t.i.tle was specially flattering to the Jew's vanity),--”your Honour knows Iermola, the old man who lives in the old ruined inn.”
”Certainly I know him; but he is only a poor devil, a beggar.”
”That is true, but it does not prevent his having gained a few roubles.”
”Well, what? He wants to drink them up?”
”No, no! he does not drink brandy, but he has taken it into his head to buy a cow, paying half the amount down and asking credit for the balance.”
”A cow! and what will he do with it?”
”He was going to the town to look for one; but I stopped him because I thought of a plan for him.”
”To the town! always to the town!” repeated the Jew, shrugging his shoulders. ”The fools! That is their first thought. But tell me, Chwedko, what is your plan?”
”I have tried to make him think that it is not a good idea for him to have a cow and be in debt; that it would be better for him to buy a goat with his money. He would have milk immediately, and in a little while a flock. Perhaps you would sell him your white goat?” Just here the Jew fixed his piercing eye on Chwedko's face, but he fortunately was not disturbed thereby. It was scarcely possible, in fact, to suspect any design in so simple a proposition. The innkeeper, however, tried to sound the intentions of the good man by a sudden question.
”Is Iermola here at the inn?”
”No; since noon he has been down there with the neighbours. But if you wish, I can go and bring him here, though usually he does not like to come to the inn. But perhaps you do not wish to sell your old white goat? I merely thought of this for your interest; why should you let all the money of the people go out of the village? However, if the idea does not suit you, say nothing about it, and let him go on to the town.”
”Wait a moment, wait,” said the Jew, after a pause, seeing Chwedko with his hand on the k.n.o.b of the door. ”Why should he go to the town?”
Here he called Sara, who came in with a discontented countenance; they exchanged a few words in their own language, Szmula speaking in a low voice and his wife looking very cross. Chwedko tried to divine the intentions of the couple from their voices and their gestures, but in vain; the Jewess went out at last, and Szmula, turning to him and slapping him on the shoulder, said,--
”You are a good man when you want brandy on credit. I have told Sara to let you have a rouble's worth; do you hear? Bring Iermola here in the great hall. The goat is there; he can buy it. It is a good goat; he will like it. It is an excellent goat. How much money has he?”
”I do not know really,” answered Chwedko. ”He must have, I think, about fifteen florins; and the cossack's widow will probably lend him something more.”
The Jew nodded his head silently, and having thus taken leave of the peasant, who hastened to rejoin his companion, he put on a warmer overcoat, for he took great care of his precious health; then he walked slowly into the great hall under pretext of going to look over some accounts with his servant, Marysia, who on the Sabbath as well as all other days served at the bar of the inn, besides which she took care of the children, milked the cow, in fact, rendered herself generally useful to the household.
The great hall, dark, dirty, and mean-looking, without any floor, dimly lighted by a torch of resinous wood which was smoking in one corner, was occupied at this moment only by Marysia (who was so very fat and short that the peasants compared her to one of the big-bellied barrels in which bacon is put up in brine), the white goat, who wandered around looking in all the corners for something to eat, and a Polesian peasant, who, after having taken a small gla.s.s of brandy and an onion, had stretched himself beside the wall with his money-bag and his shoes under his head, and was sleeping like a rock, and snoring like a chariot in need of greasing.
Szmula walked up and down for some time, looking first at the goat and then at Marysia, who was quite astonished at his sudden entrance. He yawned, sighed, and turned his thumbs over each other; then all at once hearing the sound of a footstep in the vestibule, he went to the window and began chalking figures on the shutter, keeping his eyes fixed on his calculations, and pretending to be very busy.
Just at that moment Chwedko appeared, followed by old Iermola, who was trembling like a leaf and blus.h.i.+ng also at the thought of the farce he was obliged to play in order to get the white goat. His first glance fell upon the tall figure of the Jew; and this glance would doubtless have been sufficient to betray him if Szmula had seen it. But fortunately the Jew at that moment was entirely taken up with his own role; he seemed utterly absorbed in important business, and was standing with his back to the two friends.
”Good-evening, my lord merchant,” began Chwedko.
”Good-evening,” answered Szmula, half turning round, and muttering a few words through his beard.
”Well, what shall we do? Shall we take a drink of brandy?” continued Chwedko.
”For my part, I rarely drink; but to keep you company--Pour out something for us to drink, Marysia.”