Part Six: Chapter 8

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Next day, before the ladies were up, the wagonette and a trap forthe shooting party were at the door, and Laska, aware since earlymorning that they were going shooting, after much whining anddarting to and fro, had sat herself down in the wagonette besidethe coachman, and, disapproving of the delay, was excitedlywatching the door from which the sportsmen still did not comeout. The first to come out was Vassenka Veslovsky, in new highboots that reached half-way up his thick thighs, in a greenblouse, with a new Russian leather cartridge-belt, and in hisScotch cap with ribbons, with a brand-new English gun without asling. Laska flew up to him, welcomed him, and jumping up, askedhim in her own way whether the others were coming soon, butgetting no answer from him, she returned to her post ofobservation and sank into repose again, her head on one side, andone ear pricked up to listen. At last the door opened with acreak, and Stepan Arkadyevitch's spot-and-tan pointer Krak flewout, running round and round and turning over in the air. StepanArkadyevitch himself followed with a gun in his hand and a cigarin his mouth.

　　"Good dog, good dog, Krak!" he cried encouragingly to the dog,who put his paws up on his chest, catching at his game bag.Stepan Arkadyevitch was dressed in rough leggings and spats, intorn trousers and a short coat. On his head there was a wreck ofa hat of indefinite form, but his gun of a new patent was aperfect gem, and his game bag and cartridge belt, though worn,were of the very best quality.

　　Vassenka Veslovsky had had no notion before that it was trulychic for a sportsman to be in tatters, but to have his shootingoutfit of the best quality. He saw it now as he looked at StepanArkadyevitch, radiant in his rags, graceful, well-fed, andjoyous, a typical Russian nobleman. And he made up his mind thatnext time he went shooting he would certainly adopt the sameget-up.

　　"Well, and what about our host?" he asked.

　　"A young wife," said Stepan Arkadyevitch, smiling.

　　"Yes, and such a charming one!"

　　"He came down dressed. No doubt he's run up to her again."

　　Stepan Arkadyevitch guessed right. Levin had run up again to hiswife to ask her once more If she forgave him for his idiocyyesterday, and, moreover, to beg her for Christ's sake to be morecareful. The great thing was for her to keep away from thechildren--they might any minute push against her. Then he hadonce more to hear her declare that she was not angry with him forgoing away for two days, and to beg her to be sure to send him anote next morning by a servant on horseback, to write him, if itwere but two words only, to let him know that all was well withher.

　　Kitty was distressed, as she always was, at parting for a coupleof days from her husband, but when she saw his eager figure,looking big and strong in his shooting-boots and his whiteblouse, and a sort of sportsman elation and excitementincomprehensible to her, she forgot her own chagrin for the sakeof his pleasure, and said good-bye to him cheerfully.

　　"Pardon, gentlemen!" he said, running out onto the steps. "Haveyou put the lunch in? Why is the chestnut on the right? Well,it doesn't matter. Laska, down; go and lie down!"

　　"Put it with the herd of oxen," he said to the herdsman, who waswaiting for him at the steps with some question. "Excuse me,here comes another villain."

　　Levin jumped out of the wagonette, in which he had already takenhis seat, to meet the carpenter, who came towards the steps witha rule in his hand.

　　"You didn't come to the counting house yesterday, and now you'redetaining me. Well, what is it?"

　　"Would your honor let me make another turning? It's only threesteps to add. And we make it just fit at the same time. It willbe much more convenient."

　　"You should have listened to me," Levin answered with annoyance."I said: Put the lines and then fit in the steps. Now there'sno setting it right. Do as I told you, and make a newstaircase."

　　The point was that in the lodge that was being built thecarpenter had spoiled the staircase, fitting it together withoutcalculating the space it was to fill, so that the steps were allsloping when it was put in place. Now the carpenter wanted,keeping the same staircase, to add three steps.

　　"It will be much better."

　　"But where's your staircase coming out with its three steps?"

　　"Why, upon my word, sir," the carpenter said with a contemptuoussmile. "It comes out right at the very spot. It starts, so tospeak," he said, with a persuasive gesture; "it comes down, andcomes down, and comes out."

　　"But three steps will add to the length too...where is it tocome out?"

　　"Why, to be sure, it'll start from the bottom and go up and goup, and come out so," the carpenter said obstinately andconvincingly.

　　"It'll reach the ceiling and the wall."

　　"Upon my word! Why, it'll go up, and up, and come out likethis."

　　Levin took out a ramrod and began sketching him the staircase inthe dust.

　　"There, do you see?"

　　"As your honor likes," said the carpenter, with a sudden gleam inhis eyes, obviously understanding the thing at last. "It seemsit'll be best to make a new one."

　　"Well, then, do it as you're told," Levin shouted, seatinghimself in the wagonette. "Down! Hold the dogs, Philip!"

　　Levin felt now at leaving behind all his family and householdcares such an eager sense of joy in life and expectation that hewas not disposed to talk. Besides that, he had that feeling ofconcentrated excitement that every sportsman experiences as heapproaches the scene of action. If he had anything on his mindat that moment, it was only the doubt whether they would startanything in the Kolpensky marsh, whether Laska would show toadvantage in comparison with Krak, and whether he would shootwell that day himself. Not to disgrace himself before a newspectator--not to be outdone by Oblonsky--that too was a thoughtthat crossed his brain.

　　Oblonsky was feeling the same, and he too was not talkative.Vassenka Veslovsky kept up alone a ceaseless flow of cheerfulchatter. As he listened to him now, Levin felt ashamed to thinkhow unfair he had been to him the day before. Vassenka wasreally a nice fellow, simple, good-hearted, and verygood-humored. If Levin had met him before he was married, hewould have made friends with him. Levin rather disliked hisholiday attitude to life and a sort of free and easy assumptionof elegance. It was as though he assumed a high degree ofimportance in himself that could not be disputed, because he hadlong nails and a stylish cap, and everything else to correspond;but this could be forgiven for the sake of his good nature andgood breeding. Levin liked him for his good education, forspeaking French and English with such an excellent accent, andfor being a man of his world.

　　Vassenka was extremely delighted with the left horse, a horse ofthe Don Steppes. He kept praising him enthusiastically. "Howfine it must be galloping over the steppes on a steppe horse!Eh? isn't it?" he said. He had imagined riding on a steppe horseas something wild and romantic, and it turned out nothing of thesort. But his simplicity, particularly in conjunction with hisgood looks, his amiable smile, and the grace of his movements,was very attractive. Either because his nature was sympatheticto Levin, or because Levin was trying to atone for his sins ofthe previous evening by seeing nothing but what was good in him,anyway he liked his society.

　　After they had driven over two miles from home, Veslovsky all atonce felt for a cigar and his pocketbook, and did not knowwhether he had lost them or left them on the table. In thepocketbook there were thirty-seven pounds, and so the mattercould not be left in uncertainty.

　　"Do you know what, Levin, I'll gallop home on that lefttrace-horse. That will be splendid. Eh?" he said, preparing toget out.

　　"No, why should you?" answered Levin, calculating that Vassenkacould hardly weigh less than seventeen stone. "I'll send thecoachman."

　　The coachman rode back on the trace-horse, and Levin himselfdrove the remaining pair.