Максим Горький
Old Izergil and other stories / Старуха Изергиль и другие рассказы. Книга для чтения на английском языке
The policeman swore, and everybody listened to him in attentive silence as if the man was uttering words of wisdom to be heard and remembered instead of mouthing obscene, brazen insults.
After taking down our names he left. We had drunk down the fiery vodka and feeling warmed up and in better spirits were getting ready to head for home when Osip, chuckling and throwing a look after the receding policeman, jumped lightly to his feet and fervently crossed himself.
“Thank God that’s the end…”
“Why… looks like your legs all right!” Boyev said in his nasal twang, astonished and disappointed. “D’you mean you didn’t break it?”
“You wish I had, eh?”
“Oh, you old comedian! You miserable clown…”
“Come on, boys!” Osip commanded, pulling his wet cap on his head.
…I walked alongside him behind the others, and as we went, he spoke to me in a quiet, tender way as if sharing a secret known only to him.
“No matter what you do and how you try, you just can’t live unless you’re crafty and cunning – that’s life for you, damn it anyway… You would like to climb to the top of the hill but there’s always some devil tripping you up…”
It was dark, and in the gloom, red and yellow lights burst forth as if signalling the message:
“This way!”
We walked up the hill toward the ringing of bells. At our feet rivulets rippled, drowning Osip’s caressing voice in their babble.
“Got around the police neatly, didn’t I? That’s how you’ve got to do it, so that nobody knows what it’s all about and everybody thinks he’s the main spring. Yes… it’s best to let everyone think he’s the one who did it…”
I listened to him, but found it hard to understand what he was saying.
Nor did I want to understand him; as it is my heart was light and at ease. I did not know whether I liked Osip or not, but I was ready to follow him to the ends of the earth, even across the river once more, over ice that would be constantly slipping away from under my feet.
The bells pealed and sang, and the joyous thought came to my mind: How many more times shall I be able to welcome spring!
“The human soul’s got wings,” Osip sighed. “It soars in your dreams…”A winged soul? Wonderful!
1912
