Chapter 40 40 on Christmas Eve

A young woman was standing on the shore, looking into the distance, she was about twenty-three years old, her face was frighteningly pale.She wore velvet ankle boots on her little feet, and beside her was a narrow, dilapidated ladder leading down to the sea below, with only a swaying banister beside it. The woman looks at the vast and boundless distance, which is full of unfathomable darkness, and she can't see her fingers.Whether it's the stars, the snow-covered sea, or the lights, nothing can be seen.It's raining torrentially How is it over there?The woman thought to herself, staring intently into the distance, wrapping her wet short leather jacket and shawl tightly in the wind and rain.

Somewhere over there, in the pitch-black darkness, five or ten versts away, or even farther than this, her husband, the landowner Litvinov, must be taking him with him at this time. The gang of fishermen was at work.If the blizzard at sea of ​​the last two days had not buried Litvinov and his fishermen in the snow, they were now hurrying back to shore.The sea is expanding, and it is said that it will soon begin to crack the ice.The ice couldn't stand the wind.But could their fishermen's sleds, clumsy and heavy with ugly fenders, make it back to shore before the pale woman heard the roar of the waking sea?

The woman only wanted to go down the slope.The railing swayed under her hands, wet and sticky, and slipped out of her grasp like an eel.She squatted down on the steps and began to descend with her hands and feet, her hands gripping the cold and muddy steps.The wind blows and blows away her fur coat.Her chest felt wet. Holy miracle-worker Nikolai, the ladder seems endless!The young woman whispered as she touched the steps. There are a total of ninety steps in this ladder.It does not go down the slope curvedly, but goes straight down, with a steep slope.The wind made it wobble, and it creaked like a plank, ready to splinter any moment.

Ten minutes later, the woman had come down the slope and was standing by the sea.Here, down the slope, it was pitch black, too.The wind blows stronger here than up there.The rain poured down and seemed to never end. Who is going?A man's voice sounded. it's me dennis Dennis is a tall and strong old man with a big white beard, standing on the bank, leaning on a big cane, and looking into the distance where he can't see his fingers.He stood there looking for a dry place on his clothes to strike a match and light his pipe. Natalia.Mrs. Sergeyevna, is that you?He asked in a puzzled tone, are you out in such bad weather? !What are you doing here?With your physique and having just given birth, catching a cold is the most dangerous thing.You go home, little mother!

At this time, an old woman's cry sounded.It was the mother of the fisherman Yevsey, who had gone fishing with Litvinov, crying.Dennis sighed and shook his hand. Old woman, he said to the vast space in front of him, you have lived in this world for seventy years, but you are like a baby who doesn’t understand anything.You know, silly girl, it's God's will!You are old and weak, you should be lying on the hearth instead of sitting in the wetlands!You go, God bless you! But you know, my Yevsy, Yevsy!I have only one family, Dennis! It depends on the will of God!For example, if he hadn't been destined to die in the sea, he would still be alive even if the sea broke a hundred times.But if he is destined to die this time, my old lady, it is not up to us.Don't cry, old lady!Yevsey is not alone at sea!Owner Andre.Petrovich was there too.There were Fedka, Kuzma, and Alyoshka of the Darasenkovs.

Are they all alive, Dennis?Natalia.asked Sergeyevna in a trembling voice. Who knows, ma'am!If the blizzard of yesterday and the day before had not buried them, they would still be alive.If the ice on the surface of the sea hadn't cracked, they would have lived without incident.You see, what a strong wind!What a scrape, God be with it! Someone is walking on ice!The young woman suddenly spoke in an unnaturally hoarse voice.Startled, she took a step back. Dennis narrowed his eyes and listened carefully. No, madam, no one came, he said, it was the fool Petrusha sitting in a boat and rowing.Petrusha!cried Dennis, are you on the boat?

I'm in a boat, sir!A feeble voice spoke. Are you in pain? Pain, old man!It hurts so much that I have no energy left! On the shore, close to the ice, stood a small boat.Sitting on the bottom of the boat was a tall young man with long arms and legs, and he was very ugly.He was the fool Petrusha. He gritted his teeth, trembling all over, looking into the dark distance, trying to see something clearly.He was also waiting for something at sea.His long hands grasped the oars, and his left leg was pressed under him. Our fools are sick!Dennis went up to the boat and said he had a pain in his leg, poor man.The lad was in so much pain that his brain was broken.You, Petrusha, go somewhere warmer!You are going to catch a cold here. Petrusha said nothing.He shuddered in pain and frowned.The inner side of his left thigh, just where the nerves are sensitive, was in constant pain.

You go, Petrusha!Dennis said in a mildly paternal voice, lie down on the hearth, God bless you, and your leg will be loose at morning prayers! I feel it!Petrusha opened his mouth and muttered. What do you think, fool? The ice cracked. How did you feel it? I heard that noise.One sound is the sound of wind, and the other sound is the sound of water.The wind has also become different, much softer.Ten versts from here the ice cracked. The old man listened attentively.He listened for a long time, but heard nothing in the midst of the commotion except the roar of the wind and the steady sound of the rain.

Ten minutes passed in anticipation and silence.The wind is showing its power.It was blowing more and more fiercely, as if determined to break the ice no matter what, and take away the old woman's son Yevsey and the pale woman's husband.At this time, the rain was getting lighter and lighter, and soon the raindrops became thinner, so that people's figures, the outlines of boats and the pure white snow could be seen clearly in the dark field.In the roar of the wind, you can hear the sound of Dangdang bells.This is the bell ringing on the old bell tower in the small fishing village above.A man caught at sea by a blizzard, and later by a heavy rain, must now come toward the bell, like a drowning man who catches a blade of grass.

Grandpa, the sound of water is approaching.Did you hear that? Grandpa listened carefully.This time he heard a sound, not like the roar of the wind, nor the rustling of trees.The idiot was right.There was no doubt that Litvinov and his fishermen would not be returning to dry land to celebrate Christmas. It's over!Dennis said, the ice cracked! The old woman screamed and sat down on the ground.The wife, drenched and shivering with cold, came up to the boat and began to listen.She heard the menacing noise too. Maybe it's the wind!She said, Do you, Dennis, believe that the ice is cracking?

This is God's will!It's because we're so sinful, ma'am. Dennis sighed and added in a gentle voice: You go uphill, madam!You're already drenched. People standing on the shore heard a slight laughter, and the innocent and happy pale woman laughed.Dennis cleared his throat.Whenever he wanted to cry, he always cleared his throat. She's a little out of her mind!he whispered to the dark figure of a peasant. A little brighter in the sky.The moon is out.Now everything, the ocean and the half-melted snowdrifts on it, the wife, Dennis, and Petrusha, the idiot frowning in agony, could see clearly. There were a few farmers standing next to them, all holding ropes in their hands, I don't know what they were used for. Not far from the shore, the first crisp crackling sounded.Soon there was a second sound, a third sound, and then, a frightening crackling sound that shook the air.The endless, vast expanse of white sea began to shake, turning black.The behemoth awoke, and its stormy life began. The whistling of the wind, the rustling of the trees, the wailing of Petrusha, and the sound of the bell were all drowned out by the roar of the sea. Everyone has to go uphill!cried Dennis, and soon the sea was going to come ashore, bringing with it the ice floes.Besides, morning prayers are about to begin, folks!Come on, madam, little mother!This is God's arrangement! Dennis went to Natalia.Sergeyevna approached, carefully took her elbow Come on, little mother!He spoke softly, with compassion in his tone. The wife pushed Dennis's hand away, lifted her head vigorously, and walked over to the stairs.Her face was not so ashen-pale, and there was a healthy flush in her cheeks, as if new blood had been injected into her body.Her eyes were not so tearful, her hands were pressed to the shawl on her chest, and she was not shaking as much as before. She now felt that she could climb the high stairs without the help of outsiders. She had just finished the third floor. Stop on the steps, as if taking root in the ground.It turned out that standing in front of her was a tall and well-proportioned man, wearing a short leather jacket and wearing big leather boots. It's me, Natasha, don't be afraid!the man said. Natalia.Sergeyevna swayed.She looked at the tall kid's hat, at the black mustaches, and at the black eyes, and she recognized him as her husband, the landowner Litvinov.The husband lifted her up with his hands and kissed her face while he enveloped her in the smell of Villes and brandy.He was slightly drunk. Be happy, Natasha!He said, I didn't let the snow bury me, and I didn't drown.When the blizzard started, I took my group and rushed to Taganrog [Note: A city in the south of Europe and Russia, where Chekhov was born. ], well, now I came to you from yonder and I am back, he murmured, but she was pale and trembling again, and looked at him with bewildered and frightened eyes.she doesn't believe How wet and shivering you are! He took her in his arms and whispered that his face, already intoxicated by happiness and drink, was now filled with a soft, innocent and kind smile, and it was so cold and so cold. In the middle of the night, she was waiting for him!Isn't this love?he smiled happily What answered this slight happy laughter was a shrill and heart-piercing cry.Neither the roar of the sea nor the sound of the wind could suppress that scream.The young woman's face changed greatly due to despair, and she no longer had the strength to suppress the scream, and it blurted out.Everything can be heard in this scream: it can be heard that she was forced to marry at the beginning, it can be heard that she can't restrain her indifference to her husband, it can be heard that she misses her celibacy, and finally she can hear that she was The hope of being a widow at liberty was now dashed.Her whole life, her grief, her tears, her pain, merged into one scream that not even the crackling of ice could block.Her husband understood the scream, and it was impossible not to You are sad because I am not buried by snow nor crushed to death by ice!he murmured. His lower lip began to tremble, and a wry smile appeared on his face.He went down the steps and put his wife on the ground. Then do as you wish!He said. He turned away from his wife and walked towards the wooden boat.Over there, with clenched teeth and trembling all over, fool Petrusha hopped on one leg and pulled the wooden boat into the sea. where are you goingLitvinov asked him. I ache, sir!I don't think it hurts to drown myself. Litvinov jumped into the boat.The fool followed him into the boat. Goodbye, Natasha!cried the landowner, then do as you please!The thing you stand here looking forward to in spite of the cold weather, you are about to get it!May God be with you! The fool paddled, the wooden boat hit a large piece of ice, and then swam across the high waves. Oars, Petrusha, oars!Litvinov said, go on, go on! Litvinov leaned on the side of the boat, swaying uncontrollably, and turned his head to look.His Natasha was gone, the flame in his pipe was gone, and finally the shore was gone. you come back!He heard the woman shouting hoarsely. In the sentence you came back, he felt that there was a tone of anxiety and despair. you come back! Litvinov's heart was pounding and his wife was calling him.And bells were ringing in churches ashore for Christmas morning prayers. you come back!The woman's voice repeated in a pleading tone. The echo echoed the words.The ice crackled the words, the wind howled the words, even the Christmas bells said: Come back! Let's go back!said Litvinov, tugging at the fool's sleeve. But the fool did not hear.He gritted his teeth in pain, looked into the distance with hope, and moved his two long arms constantly. No one called him to come back, but the neuralgia he had since he was a child became more and more severe. The more difficult Litvinov grabbed his hand and pulled it back.But the fool's hands were as hard as rocks, and it was not easy to get those hands to throw away the oars.And it was too late. A huge ice floe rushed towards the wooden boat.This ice floe would free Petrusha from his misery forever. The pale woman stood on the shore and waited till dawn.At last, half frozen, exhausted by mental anguish, she was carried home and put on a bed, but her lips continued to whisper: Come back! On this christmas eve she fell in love with her husband