The Man Who Was Afraid | Page 9

firmly, and said in a dull voice:
"You're a fine fellow, Natalya! Natasha, if it should be a son! If you
bear me a son I'll enrich you! I tell you plainly, I'll be your slave! By
God! I'll lie down at your feet, and you may trample upon me, if you
like!"
"This is not within our power; it's the will of the Lord," said she in a
low voice.
"Yes, the Lord's!" exclaimed Ignat with bitterness and drooped his head
sadly.
From that moment he began to look after his wife as though she were a
little child.
"Why do you sit near the window? Look out. You'll catch cold in your
side; you may take sick," he used to say to her, both sternly and mildly.
"Why do you skip on the staircase? You may hurt yourself. And you
had better eat more, eat for two, that he may have enough."
And the pregnancy made Natalya more morose and silent, as though
she were looking still deeper into herself, absorbed in the throbbing of
new life within her. But the smile on her lips became clearer, and in her
eyes flashed at times something new, weak and timid, like the first ray
of the dawn.
When, at last, the time of confinement came, it was early on an autumn
morning. At the first cry of pain she uttered, Ignat turned pale and
started to say something, but only waved his hand and left the bedroom,
where his wife was shrinking convulsively, and went down to the little
room which had served his late mother as a chapel. He ordered vodka,
seated himself by the table and began to drink sternly, listening to the
alarm in the house and to the moans of his wife that came from above.
In the corner of the room, the images of the ikons, indifferent and dark,
stood out confusedly, dimly illumined by the glimmering light of the

image lamp. There was a stamping and scraping of feet over his head,
something heavy was moved from one side of the floor to the other,
there was a clattering of dishes, people were bustling hurriedly, up and
down the staircase. Everything was being done in haste, yet time was
creeping slowly. Ignat could hear a muffled voice from above
"As it seems, she cannot be delivered that way. We had better send to
the church to open the gates of the Lord."
Vassushka, one of the hangers-on in his house, entered the room next to
Ignat's and began to pray in a loud whisper:
"God, our Lord, descend from the skies in Thy benevolence, born of
the Holy Virgin. Thou dost divine the helplessness of human creatures.
Forgive Thy servant."
And suddenly drowning all other sounds, a superhuman, soul- rending
cry rang out, and a continuous moan floated softly over the room and
died out in the corners, which were filled now with the twilight. Ignat
cast stern glances at the ikons, heaved a deep sigh and thought:
"Is it possible that it's again a daughter?"
At times he arose, stupidly stood in the middle of the room, and crossed
himself in silence, bowing before the ikons; then he went back to the
table, drank the vodka, which had not made him dizzy during these
hours, dozed off, and thus passed the whole night and following
morning until noon.
And then, at last, the midwife came down hastily, crying to him in a
thin, joyous voice.
"I congratulate you with a son, Ignat Matveyich!"
"You lie!" said he in a dull voice. "What's the matter with you,
batushka!" Heaving a sigh with all the strength of his massive chest,
Ignat went down on his knees, and clasping his hands firmly to his
breast, muttered in a trembling voice:

"Thank God! Evidently Thou didst not want that my stem should be
checked! My sins before Thee shall not remain without repentance. I
thank Thee, Oh Lord. Oh!" and, rising to his feet, he immediately
began to command noisily:
"Eh! Let someone go to St. Nicholas for a priest. Tell him that Ignat
Matveyich asked him to come! Let him come to make a prayer for the
woman."
The chambermaid appeared and said to him with alarm:
"Ignat Matveyich, Natalya Fominichna is calling you. She is feeling
bad."
"Why bad? It'll pass!" he roared, his eyes flashing cheerfully. "Tell her
I'll be there immediately! Tell her she's a fine fellow! I'll just get a
present for her and I'll come! Hold on! Prepare something to eat for the
priest. Send somebody after Mayakin!"
His enormous figure looked as though it had grown bigger, and
intoxicated with joy, he stupidly tossed about the room; he was smiling,
rubbing his hands and casting fervent glances at the images; he