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Title: A Lost Opportunity
Author: Leo Tolstoy
Date: 1889
Language: en
Topics: fiction
Source: Original text from http://www.revoltlib.com/?id=10695, 2021. Translated by Benjamin Tucker.

Leo Tolstoy

A Lost Opportunity

“Then came Peter to Him, and said, Lord, how oft shall my brother sin

against me, and I forgive him? till seven times?” . . . . “So likewise

shall My heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts

forgive not every one his brother their trespasses.”—ST. MATTHEW xviii.,

21-35.

In a certain village there lived a peasant by the name of Ivan

Scherbakoff. He was prosperous, strong, and vigorous, and was considered

the hardest worker in the whole village. He had three sons, who

supported themselves by their own labor. The eldest was married, the

second about to be married, and the youngest took care of the horses and

occasionally attended to the plowing.

The peasant’s wife, Ivanovna, was intelligent and industrious, while her

daughter-in-law was a simple, quiet soul, but a hard worker.

There was only one idle person in the household, and that was Ivan’s

father, a very old man who for seven years had suffered from asthma, and

who spent the greater part of his time lying on the brick oven.

Ivan had plenty of everything—three horses, with one colt, a cow with

calf, and fifteen sheep. The women made the men’s clothes, and in

addition to performing all the necessary household labor, also worked in

the field; while the men’s industry was confined altogether to the farm.

What was left of the previous year’s supply of provisions was ample for

their needs, and they sold a quantity of oats sufficient to pay their

taxes and other expenses.

Thus life went smoothly for Ivan.

The peasant’s next-door neighbor was a son of Gordey Ivanoff, called

“Gavryl the Lame.” It once happened that Ivan had a quarrel with him;

but while old man Gordey was yet alive, and Ivan’s father was the head

of the household, the two peasants lived as good neighbors should. If

the women of one house required the use of a sieve or pail, they

borrowed it from the inmates of the other house. The same condition of

affairs existed between the men. They lived more like one family, the

one dividing his possessions with the other, and perfect harmony reigned

between the two families.

If a stray calf or cow invaded the garden of one of the farmers, the

other willingly drove it away, saying: “Be careful, neighbor, that your

stock does not again stray into my garden; we should put a fence up.” In

the same way they had no secrets from each other. The doors of their

houses and barns had neither bolts nor locks, so sure were they of each

other’s honesty. Not a shadow of suspicion darkened their daily

intercourse.

Thus lived the old people.

In time the younger members of the two households started farming. It

soon became apparent that they would not get along as peacefully as the

old people had done, for they began quarreling without the slightest

provocation.

A hen belonging to Ivan’s daughter-in-law commenced laying eggs, which

the young woman collected each morning, intending to keep them for the

Easter holidays. She made daily visits to the barn, where, under an old

wagon, she was sure to find the precious egg.

One day the children frightened the hen and she flew over their

neighbor’s fence and laid her egg in their garden.

Ivan’s daughter-in-law heard the hen cackling, but said: “I am very busy

just at present, for this is the eve of a holy day, and I must clean and

arrange this room. I will go for the egg later on.”

When evening came, and she had finished her task, she went to the barn,

and as usual looked under the old wagon, expecting to find an egg. But,

alas! no egg was visible in the accustomed place.

Greatly disappointed, she returned to the house and inquired of her

mother-in-law and the other members of the family if they had taken it.

“No,” they said, “we know nothing of it.”

Taraska, the youngest brother-in-law, coming in soon after, she also

inquired of him if he knew anything about the missing egg. “Yes,” he

replied; “your pretty, crested hen laid her egg in our neighbors’

garden, and after she had finished cackling she flew back again over the

fence.”

The young woman, greatly surprised on hearing this, turned and looked

long and seriously at the hen, which was sitting with closed eyes beside

the rooster in the chimney-corner. She asked the hen where it laid the

egg. At the sound of her voice it simply opened and closed its eyes, but

could make no answer.

She then went to the neighbors’ house, where she was met by an old

woman, who said: “What do you want, young woman?”

Ivan’s daughter-in-law replied: “You see, babushka [grandmother], my hen

flew into your yard this morning. Did she not lay an egg there?”

“We did not see any,” the old woman replied; “we have our own hens—God

be praised!—and they have been laying for this long time. We hunt only

for the eggs our own hens lay, and have no use for the eggs other

people’s hens lay. Another thing I want to tell you, young woman: we do

not go into other people’s yards to look for eggs.”

Now this speech greatly angered the young woman, and she replied in the

same spirit in which she had been spoken to, only using much stronger

language and speaking at greater length.

The neighbor replied in the same angry manner, and finally the women

began to abuse each other and call vile names. It happened that old

Ivan’s wife, on her way to the well for water, heard the dispute, and

joined the others, taking her daughter-in-law’s part.

Gavryl’s housekeeper, hearing the noise, could not resist the temptation

to join the rest and to make her voice heard. As soon as she appeared on

the scene, she, too, began to abuse her neighbor, reminding her of many

disagreeable things which had happened (and many which had not happened)

between them. She became so infuriated during her denunciations that she

lost all control of herself, and ran around like some mad creature.

Then all the women began to shout at the same time, each trying to say

two words to another’s one, and using the vilest language in the

quarreler’s vocabulary.

“You are such and such,” shouted one of the women. “You are a thief, a

schlukha [a mean, dirty, low creature]; your father-in-law is even now

starving, and you have no shame. You beggar, you borrowed my sieve and

broke it. You made a large hole in it, and did not buy me another.”

“You have our scale-beam,” cried another woman, “and must give it back

to me;” whereupon she seized the scale-beam and tried to remove it from

the shoulders of Ivan’s wife.

In the mêlée which followed they upset the pails of water. They tore the

covering from each other’s head, and a general fight ensued.

Gavryl’s wife had by this time joined in the fracas, and he, crossing

the field and seeing the trouble, came to her rescue.

Ivan and his son, seeing that their womenfolk were being badly used,

jumped into the midst of the fray, and a fearful fight followed.

Ivan was the most powerful peasant in all the country round, and it did

not take him long to disperse the crowd, for they flew in all

directions. During the progress of the fight Ivan tore out a large

quantity of Gavryl’s beard.

By this time a large crowd of peasants had collected, and it was with

the greatest difficulty that they persuaded the two families to stop

quarreling.

This was the beginning.

Gavryl took the portion of his beard which Ivan had torn out, and,

wrapping it in a paper, went to the volostnoye (moujiks’ court) and

entered a complaint against Ivan.

Holding up the hair, he said, “I did not grow this for that bear Ivan to

tear out!”

Gavryl’s wife went round among the neighbors, telling them that they

must not repeat what she told them, but that she and her husband were

going to get the best of Ivan, and that he was to be sent to Siberia.

And so the quarreling went on.

The poor old grandfather, sick with asthma and lying on the brick oven

all the time, tried from the first to dissuade them from quarreling, and

begged of them to live in peace; but they would not listen to his good

advice. He said to them: “You children are making a great fuss and much

trouble about nothing. I beg of you to stop and think of what a little

thing has caused all this trouble. It has arisen from only one egg. If

our neighbors’ children picked it up, it is all right. God bless them!

One egg is of but little value, and without it God will supply

sufficient for all our needs.”

Ivan’s daughter-in-law here interposed and said, “But they called us

vile names.”

The old grandfather again spoke, saying: “Well, even if they did call

you bad names, it would have been better to return good for evil, and by

your example show them how to speak better. Such conduct on your part

would have been best for all concerned.” He continued: “Well, you had a

fight, you wicked people. Such things sometimes happen, but it would be

better if you went afterwards and asked forgiveness and buried your

grievances out of sight. Scatter them to the four winds of heaven, for

if you do not do so it will be the worse for you in the end.”

The younger members of the family, still obstinate, refused to profit by

the old man’s advice, and declared he was not right, and that he only

liked to grumble in his old-fashioned way.

Ivan refused to go to his neighbor, as the grandfather wished, saying:

“I did not tear out Gavryl’s beard. He did it himself, and his son tore

my shirt and trousers into shreds.”

Ivan entered suit against Gavryl. He first went to the village justice,

and not getting satisfaction from him he carried his case to the village

court.

While the neighbors were wrangling over the affair, each suing the

other, it happened that a perch-bolt from Gavryl’s wagon was lost; and

the women of Gavryl’s household accused Ivan’s son of stealing it.

They said: “We saw him in the nighttime pass by our window, on his way

to where the wagon was standing.” “And my kumushka [sponsor],” said one

of them, “told me that Ivan’s son had offered it for sale at the kabak

[tavern].”

This accusation caused them again to go into court for a settlement of

their grievances.

While the heads of the families were trying to have their troubles

settled in court, their home quarrels were constant, and frequently

resulted in hand-to-hand encounters. Even the little children followed

the example of their elders and quarreled incessantly.

The women, when they met on the riverbank to do the family washing,

instead of attending to their work passed the time in abusing each

other, and not infrequently they came to blows.

At first the male members of the families were content with accusing

each other of various crimes, such as stealing and like meannesses. But

the trouble in this mild form did not last long.

They soon resorted to other measures. They began to appropriate one

another’s things without asking permission, while various articles

disappeared from both houses and could not be found. This was done out

of revenge.

This example being set by the men, the women and children also followed,

and life soon became a burden to all who took part in the strife.

Ivan Scherbakoff and “Gavryl the Lame” at last laid their trouble before

the mir (village meeting), in addition to having been in court and

calling on the justice of the peace. Both of the latter had grown tired

of them and their incessant wrangling. One time Gavryl would succeed in

having Ivan fined, and if he was not able to pay it he would be locked

up in the cold dreary prison for days. Then it would be Ivan’s turn to

get Gavryl punished in like manner, and the greater the injury the one

could do the other the more delight he took in it.

The success of either in having the other punished only served to

increase their rage against each other, until they were like mad dogs in

their warfare.

If anything went wrong with one of them he immediately accused his

adversary of conspiring to ruin him, and sought revenge without stopping

to inquire into the rights of the case.

When the peasants went into court, and had each other fined and

imprisoned, it did not soften their hearts in the least. They would only

taunt one another on such occasions, saying: “Never mind; I will repay

you for all this.”

This state of affairs lasted for six years.

Ivan’s father, the sick old man, constantly repeated his good advice. He

would try to arouse their conscience by saying: “What are you doing, my

children? Can you not throw off all these troubles, pay more attention

to your business, and suppress your anger against your neighbors? There

is no use in your continuing to live in this way, for the more enraged

you become against each other the worse it is for you.”

Again was the wise advice of the old man rejected.

At the beginning of the seventh year of the existence of the feud it

happened that a daughter-in-law of Ivan’s was present at a marriage. At

the wedding feast she openly accused Gavryl of stealing a horse. Gavryl

was intoxicated at the time and was in no mood to stand the insult, so

in retaliation he struck the woman a terrific blow, which confined her

to her bed for more than a week. The woman being in delicate health, the

worst results were feared.

Ivan, glad of a fresh opportunity to harass his neighbor, lodged a

formal complaint before the district-attorney, hoping to rid himself

forever of Gavryl by having him sent to Siberia.

On examining the complaint the district-attorney would not consider it,

as by that time the injured woman was walking about and as well as ever.

Thus again Ivan was disappointed in obtaining his revenge, and, not

being satisfied with the district-attorney’s decision, had the case

transferred to the court, where he used all possible means to push his

suit. To secure the favor of the starshina (village mayor) he made him a

present of half a gallon of sweet vodka; and to the mayor’s pisar

(secretary) also he gave presents. By this means he succeeded in

securing a verdict against Gavryl. The sentence was that Gavryl was to

receive twenty lashes on his bare back, and the punishment was to be

administered in the yard which surrounded the court-house.

When Ivan heard the sentence read he looked triumphantly at Gavryl to

see what effect it would produce on him. Gavryl turned very white on

hearing that he was to be treated with such indignity, and turning his

back on the assembly left the room without uttering a word.

Ivan followed him out, and as he reached his horse he heard Gavryl

saying: “Very well; my spine will burn from the lashes, but something

will burn with greater fierceness in Ivan’s household before long.”

Ivan, on hearing these words, instantly returned to the court, and going

up to the judges said: “Oh! just judges, he threatens to burn my house

and all it contains.”

A messenger was immediately sent in search of Gavryl, who was soon found

and again brought into the presence of the judges.

“Is it true,” they asked, “that you said you would burn Ivan’s house and

all it contained?”

Gavryl replied: “I did not say anything of the kind. You may give me as

many lashes as you please—that is, if you have the power to do so. It

seems to me that I alone have to suffer for the truth, while he,”

pointing to Ivan, “is allowed to do and say what he pleases.” Gavryl

wished to say something more, but his lips trembled, and the words

refused to come; so in silence he turned his face toward the wall.

The sight of so much suffering moved even the judges to pity, and,

becoming alarmed at Gavryl’s continued silence, they said, “He may do

both his neighbor and himself some frightful injury.”

“See here, my brothers,” said one feeble old judge, looking at Ivan and

Gavryl as he spoke, “I think you had better try to arrange this matter

peaceably. You, brother Gavryl, did wrong to strike a woman who was in

delicate health. It was a lucky thing for you that God had mercy on you

and that the woman did not die, for if she had I know not what dire

misfortune might have overtaken you! It will not do either of you any

good to go on living as you are at present. Go, Gavryl, and make friends

with Ivan; I am sure he will forgive you, and we will set aside the

verdict just given.”

The secretary on hearing this said: “It is impossible to do this on the

present case. According to Article 117 this matter has gone too far to

be settled peaceably now, as the verdict has been rendered and must be

enforced.”

But the judges would not listen to the secretary, saying to him: “You

talk altogether too much. You must remember that the first thing is to

fulfill God’s command to ‘Love thy neighbor as thyself,’ and all will be

well with you.”

Thus with kind words the judges tried to reconcile the two peasants.

Their words fell on stony ground, however, for Gavryl would not listen

to them.

“I am fifty years old,” said Gavryl, “and have a son married, and never

from my birth has the lash been applied to my back; but now this bear

Ivan has secured a verdict against me which condemns me to receive

twenty lashes, and I am forced to bow to this decision and suffer the

shame of a public beating. Well, he will have cause to remember this.”

At this Gavryl’s voice trembled and he stopped speaking, and turning his

back on the judges took his departure.

It was about ten versts’ distance from the court to the homes of the

neighbors, and this Ivan traveled late. The women had already gone out

for the cattle. He unharnessed his horse and put everything in its

place, and then went into the izba (room), but found no one there.

The men had not yet returned from their work in the field and the women

had gone to look for the cattle, so that all about the place was quiet.

Going into the room, Ivan seated himself on a wooden bench and soon

became lost in thought. He remembered how, when Gavryl first heard the

sentence which had been passed upon him, he grew very pale, and turned

his face to the wall, all the while remaining silent.

Ivan’s heart ached when he thought of the disgrace which he had been the

means of bringing upon Gavryl, and he wondered how he would feel if the

same sentence had been passed upon him. His thoughts were interrupted by

the coughing of his father, who was lying on the oven.

The old man, on seeing Ivan, came down off the oven, and slowly

approaching his son seated himself on the bench beside him, looking at

him as though ashamed. He continued to cough as he leaned on the table

and said, “Well, did they sentence him?”

“Yes, they sentenced him to receive twenty lashes,” replied Ivan.

On hearing this the old man sorrowfully shook his head, and said: “This

is very bad, Ivan, and what is the meaning of it all? It is indeed very

bad, but not so bad for Gavryl as for yourself. Well, suppose his

sentence is carried out, and he gets the twenty lashes, what will it

benefit you?”

“He will not again strike a woman,” Ivan replied.

“What is it he will not do? He does not do anything worse than what you

are constantly doing!”

This conversation enraged Ivan, and he shouted: “Well, what did he do?

He beat a woman nearly to death, and even now he threatens to burn my

house! Must I bow to him for all this?”

The old man sighed deeply as he said: “You, Ivan, are strong and free to

go wherever you please, while I have been lying for years on the oven.

You think that you know everything and that I do not know anything. No!

you are still a child, and as such you cannot see that a kind of madness

controls your actions and blinds your sight. The sins of others are ever

before you, while you resolutely keep your own behind your back. I know

that what Gavryl did was wrong, but if he alone should do wrong there

would be no evil in the world. Do you think that all the evil in the

world is the work of one man alone? No! it requires two persons to work

much evil in the world. You see only the bad in Gavryl’s character, but

you are blind to the evil that is in your own nature. If he alone were

bad and you good, then there would be no wrong.”

The old man, after a pause, continued: “Who tore Gavryl’s beard? Who

destroyed his heaps of rye? Who dragged him into court?—and yet you try

to put all the blame on his shoulders. You are behaving very badly

yourself, and for that reason you are wrong. I did not act in such a

manner, and certainly I never taught you to do so. I lived in peace with

Gavryl’s father all the time we were neighbors. We were always the best

of friends. If he was without flour his wife would come to me and say,

‘Diadia Frol [Grandfather], we need flour.’ I would then say: ‘My good

woman, go to the warehouse and take as much as you want.’ If he had no

one to care for his horses I would say, ‘Go, Ivanushka [diminutive of

Ivan], and help him to care for them.’ If I required anything I would go

to him and say, ‘Grandfather Gordey, I need this or that,’ and he would

always reply, ‘Take just whatever you want.’ By this means we passed an

easy and peaceful life. But what is your life compared with it? As the

soldiers fought at Plevna, so are you and Gavryl fighting all the time,

only that your battles are far more disgraceful than that fought at

Plevna.”

The old man went on: “And you call this living! and what a sin it all

is! You are a peasant, and the head of the house; therefore, the

responsibility of the trouble rests with you. What an example you set

your wife and children by constantly quarreling with your neighbor! Only

a short time since your little boy, Taraska, was cursing his aunt Arina,

and his mother only laughed at it, saying, ‘What a bright child he is!’

Is that right? You are to blame for all this. You should think of the

salvation of your soul. Is that the way to do it? You say one unkind

word to me and I will reply with two. You will give me one slap in the

face, and I will retaliate with two slaps. No, my son; Christ did not

teach us foolish people to act in such a way. If any one should say an

unkind word to you it is better not to answer at all; but if you do

reply do it kindly, and his conscience will accuse him, and he will

regret his unkindness to you. This is the way Christ taught us to live.

He tells us that if a person smite us on the one cheek we should offer

unto him the other. That is Christ’s command to us, and we should follow

it. You should therefore subdue your pride. Am I not right?”

Ivan remained silent, but his father’s words had sunk deep into his

heart.

The old man coughed and continued: “Do you think Christ thought us

wicked? Did he not die that we might be saved? Now you think only of

this earthly life. Are you better or worse for thinking alone of it? Are

you better or worse for having begun that Plevna battle? Think of your

expense at court and the time lost in going back and forth, and what

have you gained? Your sons have reached manhood, and are able now to

work for you. You are therefore at liberty to enjoy life and be happy.

With the assistance of your children you could reach a high state of

prosperity. But now your property instead of increasing is gradually

growing less, and why? It is the result of your pride. When it becomes

necessary for you and your boys to go to the field to work, your enemy

instead summons you to appear at court or before some kind of judicial

person. If you do not plow at the proper time and sow at the proper time

mother earth will not yield up her products, and you and your children

will be left destitute. Why did your oats fail this year? When did you

sow them? Were you not quarreling with your neighbor instead of

attending to your work? You have just now returned from the town, where

you have been the means of having your neighbor humiliated. You have

succeeded in getting him sentenced, but in the end the punishment will

fall on your own shoulders. Oh! my child, it would be better for you to

attend to your work on the farm and train your boys to become good

farmers and honest men. If any one offend you forgive him for Christ’s

sake, and then prosperity will smile on your work and a light and happy

feeling will fill your heart.”

Ivan still remained silent.

The old father in a pleading voice continued: “Take an old man’s advice.

Go and harness your horse, drive back to the court, and withdraw all

these complaints against your neighbor. To-morrow go to him, offer to

make peace in Christ’s name, and invite him to your house. It will be a

holy day (the birth of the Virgin Mary). Get out the samovar and have

some vodka, and over both forgive and forget each other’s sins,

promising not to transgress in the future, and advise your women and

children to do the same.”

Ivan heaved a deep sigh but felt easier in his heart, as he thought:

“The old man speaks the truth;” yet he was in doubt as to how he would

put his father’s advice into practice.

The old man, surmising his uncertainty, said to Ivan: “Go, Ivanushka; do

not delay. Extinguish the fire in the beginning, before it grows large,

for then it may be impossible.”

Ivan’s father wished to say more to him, but was prevented by the

arrival of the women, who came into the room chattering like so many

magpies. They had already heard of Gavryl’s sentence, and of how he

threatened to set fire to Ivan’s house. They found out all about it, and

in telling it to their neighbors added their own versions of the story,

with the usual exaggeration. Meeting in the pasture-ground, they

proceeded to quarrel with Gavryl’s women. They related how the latter’s

daughter-in-law had threatened to secure the influence of the manager of

a certain noble’s estate in behalf of his friend Gavryl; also that the

school-teacher was writing a petition to the Czar himself against Ivan,

explaining in detail his theft of the perchbolt and partial destruction

of Gavryl’s garden—declaring that half of Ivan’s land was to be given to

them.

Ivan listened calmly to their stories, but his anger was soon aroused

once more, when he abandoned his intention of making peace with Gavryl.

As Ivan was always busy about the household, he did not stop to speak to

the wrangling women, but immediately left the room, directing his steps

toward the barn. Before getting through with his work the sun had set

and the boys had returned from their plowing. Ivan met them and asked

about their work, helping them to put things in order and leaving the

broken horse-collar aside to be repaired. He intended to perform some

other duties, but it became too dark and he was obliged to leave them

till the next day. He fed the cattle, however, and opened the gate that

Taraska might take his horses to pasture for the night, after which he

closed it again and went into the house for his supper.

By this time he had forgotten all about Gavryl and what his father had

said to him. Yet, just as he touched the door-knob, he heard sounds of

quarreling proceeding from his neighbor’s house.

“What do I want with that devil?” shouted Gavryl to some one. “He

deserves to be killed!”

Ivan stopped and listened for a moment, when he shook his head

threateningly and entered the room. When he came in, the apartment was

already lighted. His daughter-in-law was working with her loom, while

the old woman was preparing the supper. The eldest son was twining

strings for his lapti (peasant’s shoes made of strips of bark from the

linden-tree). The other son was sitting by the table reading a book. The

room presented a pleasant appearance, everything being in order and the

inmates apparently gay and happy—the only dark shadow being that cast

over the household by Ivan’s trouble with his neighbor.

Ivan came in very cross, and, angrily throwing aside a cat which lay

sleeping on the bench, cursed the women for having misplaced a pail. He

looked very sad and serious, and, seating himself in a corner of the

room, proceeded to repair the horse-collar. He could not forget Gavryl,

however—the threatening words he had used in the court-room and those

which Ivan had just heard.

Presently Taraska came in, and after having his supper, put on his

sheepskin coat, and, taking some bread with him, returned to watch over

his horses for the night. His eldest brother wished to accompany him,

but Ivan himself arose and went with him as far as the porch. The night

was dark and cloudy and a strong wind was blowing, which produced a

peculiar whistling sound that was most unpleasant to the ear. Ivan

helped his son to mount his horse, which, followed by a colt, started

off on a gallop.

Ivan stood for a few moments looking around him and listening to the

clatter of the horse’s hoofs as Taraska rode down the village street. He

heard him meet other boys on horseback, who rode quite as well as

Taraska, and soon all were lost in the darkness.

Ivan remained standing by the gate in a gloomy mood, as he was unable to

banish from his mind the harassing thoughts of Gavryl, which the

latter’s menacing words had inspired: “Something will burn with greater

fierceness in Ivan’s household before long.”

“He is so desperate,” thought Ivan, “that he may set fire to my house

regardless of the danger to his own. At present everything is dry, and

as the wind is so high he may sneak from the back of his own building,

start a fire, and get away unseen by any of us.

“He may burn and steal without being found out, and thus go unpunished.

I wish I could catch him.”

This thought so worried Ivan that he decided not to return to his house,

but went out and stood on the street-corner.

“I guess,” thought Ivan to himself, “I will take a walk around the

premises and examine everything carefully, for who knows what he may be

tempted to do?”

Ivan moved very cautiously round to the back of his buildings, not

making the slightest noise, and scarcely daring to breathe. Just as he

reached a corner of the house he looked toward the fence, and it seemed

to him that he saw something moving, and that it was slowly creeping

toward the corner of the house opposite to where he was standing. He

stepped back quickly and hid himself in the shadow of the building. Ivan

stood and listened, but all was quiet. Not a sound could be heard but

the moaning of the wind through the branches of the trees, and the

rustling of the leaves as it caught them up and whirled them in all

directions. So dense was the darkness that it was at first impossible

for Ivan to see more than a few feet beyond where he stood.

After a time, however, his sight becoming accustomed to the gloom, he

was enabled to see for a considerable distance. The plow and his other

farming implements stood just where he had placed them. He could see

also the opposite corner of the house.

He looked in every direction, but no one was in sight, and he thought to

himself that his imagination must have played him some trick, leading

him to believe that some one was moving when there really was no one

there.

Still, Ivan was not satisfied, and decided to make a further examination

of the premises. As on the previous occasion, he moved so very

cautiously that he could not hear even the sound of his own footsteps.

He had taken the precaution to remove his shoes, that he might step the

more noiselessly. When he reached the corner of the barn it again seemed

to him that he saw something moving, this time near the plow; but it

quickly disappeared. By this time Ivan’s heart was beating very fast,

and he was standing in a listening attitude when a sudden flash of light

illumined the spot, and he could distinctly see the figure of a man

seated on his haunches with his back turned toward him, and in the act

of lighting a bunch of straw which he held in his hand! Ivan’s heart

began to beat yet faster, and he became terribly excited, walking up and

down with rapid strides, but without making a noise.

Ivan said: “Well, now, he cannot get away, for he will be caught in the

very act.”

Ivan had taken a few more steps when suddenly a bright light flamed up,

but not in the same spot in which he had seen the figure of the man

sitting. Gavryl had lighted the straw, and running to the barn held it

under the edge of the roof, which began to burn fiercely; and by the

light of the fire he could distinctly see his neighbor standing.

As an eagle springs at a skylark, so sprang Ivan at Gavryl, saying: “I

will tear you into pieces! You shall not get away from me this time!”

But “Gavryl the Lame,” hearing footsteps, wrenched himself free from

Ivan’s grasp and ran like a hare past the buildings.

Ivan, now terribly excited, shouted, “You shall not escape me!” and

started in pursuit; but just as he reached him and was about to grasp

the collar of his coat, Gavryl succeeded in jumping to one side, and

Ivan’s coat became entangled in something and he was thrown violently to

the ground. Jumping quickly to his feet he shouted, “Karaool! derji!”

(watch! catch!)

While Ivan was regaining his feet Gavryl succeeded in reaching his

house, but Ivan followed so quickly that he caught up with him before he

could enter. Just as he was about to grasp him he was struck on the head

with some hard substance. He had been hit on the temple as with a stone.

The blow was struck by Gavryl, who had picked up an oaken stave, and

with it gave Ivan a terrible blow on the head.

Ivan was stunned, and bright sparks danced before his eyes, while he

swayed from side to side like a drunken man, until finally all became

dark and he sank to the ground unconscious.

When he recovered his senses, Gavryl was nowhere to be seen, but all

around him was as light as day. Strange sounds proceeded from the

direction of his house, and turning his face that way he saw that his

barns were on fire. The rear parts of both were already destroyed, and

the flames were leaping toward the front. Fire, smoke, and bits of

burning straw were being rapidly whirled by the high wind over to where

his house stood, and he expected every moment to see it burst into

flames.

“What is this, brother?” Ivan cried out, as he beat his thighs with his

hands. “I should have stopped to snatch the bunch of burning straw, and,

throwing it on the ground, should have extinguished it with my feet!”

Ivan tried to cry out and arouse his people, but his lips refused to

utter a word. He next tried to run, but he could not move his feet, and

his legs seemed to twist themselves around each other. After several

attempts he succeeded in taking one or two steps, when he again began to

stagger and gasp for breath. It was some moments before he made another

attempt to move, but after considerable exertion he finally reached the

barn, the rear of which was by this time entirely consumed; and the

corner of his house had already caught fire. Dense volumes of smoke

began to pour out of the room, which made it difficult to approach.

A crowd of peasants had by this time gathered, but they found it

impossible to save their homes, so they carried everything which they

could to a place of safety. The cattle they drove into neighboring

pastures and left some one to care for them.

The wind carried the sparks from Ivan’s house to Gavryl’s, and it, too,

took fire and was consumed. The wind continued to increase with great

fury, and the flames spread to both sides of the street, until in a very

short time more than half the village was burned.

The members of Ivan’s household had great difficulty in getting out of

the burning building, but the neighbors rescued the old man and carried

him to a place of safety, while the women escaped in only their

night-clothes. Everything was burned, including the cattle and all the

farm implements. The women lost their trunks, which were filled with

quantities of clothing, the accumulation of years. The storehouse and

all the provisions perished in the flames, not even the chickens being

saved.

Gavryl, however, more fortunate than Ivan, saved his cattle and a few

other things.

The village was burning all night.

Ivan stood near his home, gazing sadly at the burning building, and he

kept constantly repeating to himself: “I should have taken away the

bunch of burning straw, and have stamped out the fire with my feet.”

But when he saw his home fall in a smoldering heap, in spite of the

terrible heat he sprang into the midst of it and carried out a charred

log. The women seeing him, and fearing that he would lose his life,

called to him to come back, but he would not pay any attention to them

and went a second time to get a log. Still weak from the terrible blow

which Gavryl had given him, he was overcome by the heat, and fell into

the midst of the burning mass. Fortunately, his eldest son saw him fall,

and rushing into the fire succeeded in getting hold of him and carrying

him out of it. Ivan’s hair, beard, and clothing were burned entirely

off. His hands were also frightfully injured, but he seemed indifferent

to pain.

“Grief drove him crazy,” the people said.

The fire was growing less, but Ivan still stood where he could see it,

and kept repeating to himself, “I should have taken,” etc.

The morning after the fire the starosta (village elder) sent his son to

Ivan to tell him that the old man, his father, was dying, and wanted to

see him to bid him good-bye.

In his grief Ivan had forgotten all about his father, and could not

understand what was being said to him. In a dazed way he asked: “What

father? Whom does he want?”

The elder’s son again repeated his father’s message to Ivan. “Your aged

parent is at our house dying, and he wants to see you and bid you

good-bye. Won’t you go now, uncle Ivan?” the boy said.

Finally Ivan understood, and followed the elder’s son.

When Ivan’s father was carried from the oven, he was slightly injured by

a big bunch of burning straw falling on him just as he reached the

street. To insure his safety he was removed to the elder’s house, which

stood a considerable distance from his late home, and where it was not

likely that the fire would reach it.

When Ivan arrived at the elder’s home he found only the latter’s wife

and children, who were all seated on the brick oven. The old man was

lying on a bench holding a lighted candle in his hand (a Russian custom

when a person is dying). Hearing a noise, he turned his face toward the

door, and when he saw it was his son he tried to move. He motioned for

Ivan to come nearer, and when he did so he whispered in a trembling

voice: “Well, Ivanushka, did I not tell you before what would be the

result of this sad affair? Who set the village on fire?”

“He, he, batiushka [little father]; he did it. I caught him. He placed

the bunch of burning straw to the barn in my presence. Instead of

running after him, I should have snatched the bunch of burning straw and

throwing it on the ground have stamped it out with my feet; and then

there would have been no fire.”

“Ivan,” said the old man, “death is fast approaching me, and remember

that you also will have to die. Who did this dreadful thing? Whose is

the sin?”

Ivan gazed at the noble face of his dying father and was silent. His

heart was too full for utterance.

“In the presence of God,” the old man continued, “whose is the sin?”

It was only now that the truth began to dawn upon Ivan’s mind, and that

he realized how foolish he had acted. He sobbed bitterly, and fell on

his knees before his father, and, crying like a child, said:

“My dear father, forgive me, for Christ’s sake, for I am guilty before

God and before you!”

The old man transferred the lighted candle from his right hand to the

left, and, raising the former to his forehead, tried to make the sign of

the cross, but owing to weakness was unable to do so.

“Glory to Thee, O Lord! Glory to Thee!” he exclaimed; and turning his

dim eyes toward his son, he said: “See here, Ivanushka! Ivanushka, my

dear son!”

“What, my dear father?” Ivan asked.

“What are you going to do,” replied the old man, “now that you have no

home?”

Ivan cried and said: “I do not know how we shall live now.”

The old man closed his eyes and made a movement with his lips, as if

gathering his feeble strength for a final effort. Slowly opening his

eyes, he whispered:

“Should you live according to God’s commands you will be happy and

prosperous again.”

The old man was now silent for awhile and then, smiling sadly, he

continued:

“See here, Ivanushka, keep silent concerning this trouble, and do not

tell who set the village on fire. Forgive one sin of your neighbor’s,

and God will forgive two of yours.”

Grasping the candle with both hands, Ivan’s father heaved a deep sigh,

and, stretching himself out on his back, yielded up the ghost.

Ivan for once accepted his father’s advice. He did not betray Gavryl,

and no one ever learned the origin of the fire.

Ivan’s heart became more kindly disposed toward his old enemy, feeling

that much of the fault in connection with this sad affair rested with

himself.

Gavryl was greatly surprised that Ivan did not denounce him before all

the villagers, and at first he stood in much fear of him, but he soon

afterwards overcame this feeling.

The two peasants ceased to quarrel, and their families followed their

example. While they were building new houses, both families lived

beneath the same roof, and when they moved into their respective homes,

Ivan and Gavryl lived on as good terms as their fathers had done before

them.

Ivan remembered his dying father’s command, and took deeply to heart the

evident warning of God that a fire should be extinguished in the

beginning. If any one wronged him he did not seek revenge, but instead

made every effort to settle the matter peaceably. If any one spoke to

him unkindly, he did not answer in the same way, but replied softly, and

tried to persuade the person not to speak evil. He taught the women and

children of his household to do the same.

Ivan Scherbakoff was now a reformed man.

He lived well and peacefully, and again became prosperous.

Let us, therefore, have peace, live in brotherly love and kindness, and

we will be happy.