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The marvel had happened in the simplest way: Anisim, dying of curiosity, went to Varvara Petrovna's the day after he reached the town and gossiped to the servants, telling them he had met Stepan Trofimovitch alone in a village, that the latter had been seen by peasants walking by himself on the high road, and that he had set off for Spasov by way of Ustyevo accompanied by Sofya Matveyevna.
"Awfully inquisitive people; but the woman speaks better than he does, and I notice that since February 19,* their language has altered a little, and... and what business is it of mine whether I'm going to Spasov or not? Besides, I'll pay them, so why do they pester me." "If you are going to Spasov, you must take the steamer," the peasant persisted.
"If you are going to Spasov and on foot, it will take you a week in your boots," laughed the woman. "I dare say, I dare say, no matter, mes amis, no matter." Stepan Trofimovitch cut her short impatiently.
"Yes, that does happen among you in Russia... in general we Russians. .. Well, yes, it happens," Stepan Trofimovitch broke off. "If you are a teacher, what are you going to Hatovo for? Maybe you are going on farther." "I... I'm not going farther precisely.... C'est-d-dire, I'm going to a merchant's." "To Spasov, I suppose?" "Yes, yes, to Spasov. But that's no matter."
"I live near Spasov, close to the V Monastery, in the service of Marta Sergyevna, Avdotya Sergyevna's sister. Perhaps your honour remembers her; she broke her leg falling out of her carriage on her way to a ball. Now her honour lives near the monastery, and I am in her service. And now as your honour sees, I am on my way to the town to see my kinsfolk." "Quite so, quite so."
"I can't get to Spasov!" she said to the woman of the cottage. "Why, you are bound to Spasov, too, then?" cried Stepan Trofimovitch, starting. It appeared that a lady had the day before told her to wait at Hatovo and had promised to take her to Spasov, and now this lady had not turned up after all. "What am I to do now?" repeated Sofya Matveyevna.
"Mais, ma chere et nouvelle amie, I can take you just as well as the lady to that village, whatever it is, to which I've hired horses, and to-morrow well, to-morrow, we'll go on together to Spasov." "Why, are you going to Spasov too?" "Mais que faire, et je suis enchante! I shall take you with the greatest pleasure; you see they want to take me, I've engaged them already.
"I felt so pleased when I saw you, you used to be so kind to me," Anisim smiled delightedly. "But where are you travelling to, sir, all by yourself as it seems.... You've never been a journey alone, I fancy?" Stepan Trofimovitch looked at him in alarm. "You are going, maybe, to our parts, to Spasov?" "Yes, I am going to Spasov. Il me semble que tout le monde va a Spassof."
Stepan Trofimovitch became so seriously ill that he could not go on board the steamer, which on this occasion arrived punctually at two o'clock in the afternoon. She could not bring herself to leave him alone, so she did not leave for Spasov either. From her account he was positively delighted at the steamer's going without him. "Well, that's a good thing, that's capital!" he muttered in his bed.
Which of you did I engage?" Stepan Trofimovitch suddenly felt an intense desire to go to Spasov. Within a quarter of an hour they were getting into a covered trap, he very lively and quite satisfied, she with her pack beside him, with a grateful smile on her face. Anisim helped them in. "A good journey to you, sir," said he, bustling officiously round the trap, "it has been a treat to see you."
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