Short Stories — 08 - ANOTHER MAN'S WIFE part 2
"Goodness!
It is my husband!"
cried the lady, clasping her hands and turning whiter than her dressing-gown.
Ivan Andreyitch felt that he had come to the wrong place, that he had made a silly, childish blunder, that he had acted without due consideration, that he had not been sufficiently cautious on the landing.
But there was no help for it.
The door was already opening, already the heavy husband, that is if he could be judged by his footsteps, was coming into the room....
I
don't know what Ivan Andreyitch took himself to be at that moment!
I don't know what prevented him from confronting the husband, telling him that he had made a mistake, confessing that he had unintentionally behaved in the most unseemly way, making his apologies and vanishing--not of course with flying colours, not of course with glory, but at any rate departing in an open and gentlemanly manner.
But no, Ivan Andreyitch again behaved like a boy, as though he considered himself a Don Juan or a Lovelace!
He first hid himself behind the curtain of the bed, and finally, feeling utterly dejected and hopeless, he dropped on the floor and senselessly crept under the bed.
Terror had more influence on him than reason, and Ivan Andreyitch, himself an injured husband, or at any rate a husband who considered himself such, could not face meeting another husband, but was afraid to wound him by his presence.
Be this as it may, he found himself under the bed, though he had no idea how it had come to pass.
But what was most surprising, the lady made no opposition.
She did not cry out on seeing an utterly unknown elderly gentleman seek a refuge under her bed.
Probably she was so alarmed that she was deprived of all power of speech.
The husband walked in gasping and clearing his throat, said good-evening to his wife in a singsong, elderly voice, and flopped into an easy chair as though he had just been carrying up a load of wood.
There was a sound of a hollow and prolonged cough.
Ivan Andreyitch, transformed from a ferocious tiger to a lamb, timid and meek as a mouse before a cat, scarcely dared to breathe for terror, though he might have known from his own experience that not all injured husbands bite.
But this idea did not enter his head, either from lack of consideration or from agitation of some sort.
Cautiously, softly, feeling his way he began to get right under the bed so as to lie more comfortably there.
What was his amazement when with his hand he felt an object which, to his intense amazement, stirred and in its turn seized his hand!
Under the bed there was another person!
"Who's this?"
whispered Ivan Andreyitch.
"Well, I am not likely to tell you who I am," whispered the strange man.
"Lie still and keep quiet, if you have made a mess of things!"
"But, I say!..."
"Hold your tongue!"
And the extra gentleman (for one was quite enough under the bed) the extra gentleman squeezed Ivan Andreyitch's hand in his fist so that the latter almost shrieked with pain.
"My dear sir...."
"Sh!"
"Then don't pinch me so, or I shall scream."
"All right, scream away, try it on."
Ivan Andreyitch flushed with shame.
The unknown gentleman was sulky and ill-humoured.
Perhaps it was a man who had suffered more than once from the persecutions of fate, and had more than once been in a tight place; but Ivan Andreyitch was a novice and could not breathe in his constricted position.
The blood rushed to his head.
However, there was no help for it;
he had to lie on his face.
Ivan Andreyitch submitted and was silent.
"I have been to see Pavel Ivanitch, my love," began the husband.
"We sat down to a game of preference.
Khee-khee-khee!"
(he had a fit of coughing).
"Yes ...
khee!
So my back ...
khee!
Bother it ...
khee-khee-khee!"
And the old gentleman became engrossed in his cough.
"My back," he brought out at last with tears in his eyes, "my spine began to ache....
A damned hæmorrhoid, I can't stand nor sit ...
or sit.
Akkhee-khee-khee!"
And it seemed as though the cough that followed was destined to last longer than the old gentleman in possession of it.
The old gentleman grumbled something in its intervals, but it was utterly impossible to make out a word.
"Dear sir, for goodness' sake, move a little," whispered the unhappy Ivan Andreyitch.
"How can I?
There's no room."
"But you must admit that it is impossible for me.
It is the first time that I have found myself in such a nasty position."
"And I in such unpleasant society."
"But, young man!..."
"Hold your tongue!"
"Hold my tongue?
You are very uncivil, young man....
If I am not mistaken, you are very young; I am your senior."
"Hold your tongue!"
"My dear sir!
You are forgetting yourself.
You don't know to whom you are talking!"
"To a gentleman lying under the bed."
"But I was taken by surprise ...
a mistake, while in your case, if I am not mistaken, immorality...."
"That's where you are mistaken."
"My dear sir!
I am older than you, I tell you...."
"Sir, we are in the same boat, you know.
I beg you not to take hold of my face!"
"Sir, I can't tell one thing from another.
Excuse me, but I have no room."
"You shouldn't be so fat!"
"Heavens!
I have never been in such a degrading position."
"Yes, one couldn't be brought more low."
"Sir, sir!
I don't know who you are, I don't understand how this came about; but I am here by mistake; I am not what you think...."
"I shouldn't think about you at all if you didn't shove.
But hold your tongue, do!"
"Sir, if you don't move a little I shall have a stroke; you will have to answer for my death, I assure you....
I am a respectable man, I am the father of a family.
I really cannot be in such a position!..."
"You thrust yourself into the position.
Come, move a little!
I've made room for you, I can't do more!"
"Noble young man!
Dear sir!
I see I was mistaken about you," said Ivan Andreyitch, in a transport of gratitude for the space allowed him, and stretching out his cramped limbs.
"I understand your constricted condition, but there's no help for it.
I see you think ill of me.
Allow me to redeem my reputation in your eyes, allow me to tell you who I am.
I have come here against my will, I assure you; I am not here with the object you imagine....
I am in a terrible fright."
"Oh, do shut up!
Understand that if we are overheard it will be the worse for us.
Sh!...
He is talking."
The old gentleman's cough did, in fact, seem to be over.
"I tell you what, my love," he wheezed in the most lachrymose chant, "I tell you what, my love ...
khee-khee!
Oh, what an affliction!
Fedosey Ivanovitch said to me: 'You should try drinking yarrow tea,' he said to me;
do you hear, my love?"
"Yes, dear."
"Yes, that was what he said, 'You should try drinking yarrow tea,' he said.
I told him I had put on leeches.
But he said, 'No, Alexandr Demyanovitch, yarrow tea is better, it's a laxative, I tell you' ...
Khee-khee.
Oh, dear!
What do you think, my love?
Khee!
Oh, my God!
Khee-khee!
Had I better try yarrow tea?...
Khee-khee-khee!
Oh ...
Khee!"
and so on.
"I think it would be just as well to try that remedy," said his wife.
"Yes, it would be!
'You may be in consumption," he said.
"Khee-khee!
And I told him it was gout and irritability of the stomach ...
Khee-khee!
But he would have it that it might be consumption.
What do you think ...
khee-khee!
What do you think, my love; is it consumption?"
"My goodness, what are you talking about?"
"Why, consumption!
You had better undress and go to bed now, my love ...
khee-khee!
I've caught a cold in my head to-day."
"Ouf!"
said Ivan Andreyitch.
"For God's sake, do move a little."
"I really don't know what is the matter with you; can't you lie still?..."
"You are exasperated against me, young man, you want to wound me, I see that.
You are, I suppose, this lady's lover?"
"Shut up!"
"I will not shut up!
I won't allow you to order me about!
You are, no doubt, her lover.
If we are discovered I am not to blame in any way; I know nothing about it."
"If you don't hold your tongue," said the young man, grinding his teeth, "I will say that you brought me here.
I'll say that you are my uncle who has dissipated his fortune.
Then they won't imagine I am this lady's lover, anyway."
"Sir, you are amusing yourself at my expense.
You are exhausting my patience."
"Hush, or I will make you hush!
You are a curse to me.
Come, tell me what you are here for?
If you were not here I could lie here somehow till morning, and then get away."
"But I can't lie here till morning.
I am a respectable man, I have family ties, of course....
What do you think, surely he is not going to spend the night here?"
"Who?"
"Why, this old gentleman...."
"Of course he will.
All husbands aren't like you.
Some of them spend their nights at home."
"My dear sir, my dear sir!"
cried Ivan Andreyitch, turning cold with terror, "I assure you I spend my nights at home too, and this is the first time; but, my God, I see you know me.
Who are you, young man?
Tell me at once, I beseech you, from disinterested friendship, who are you?"
"Listen, I shall resort to violence...."
"But allow me, allow me, sir, to tell you, allow me to explain all this horrid business."
"I won't listen to any explanation.
I don't want to know anything about it.
Be silent or...."
"But I cannot...."
A slight skirmish took place under the bed, and Ivan Andreyitch subsided.
"My love, it sounds as though there were cats hissing."
"Cats!
What will you imagine next?"
Evidently the lady did not know what to talk to her husband about.
She was so upset that she could not pull herself together.
Now she started and pricked up her ears.
"What cats?"
"Cats, my love.
The other day I went into my study, and there was the tom-cat in my study, and hissing shoo-shoo-shoo!
I said to him: 'What is it, pussy?'
and he went shoo-shoo-shoo again, as though he were whispering.
I thought, 'Merciful heavens!
isn't he hissing as a sign of my death?'
" "What nonsense you are talking to-day!
You ought to be ashamed, really!"
"Never mind, don't be cross, my love.
I see, you don't like to think of me dying; I didn't mean it.
But you had better undress and get to bed, my love, and I'll sit here while you go to bed."
"For goodness' sake, leave off; afterwards...."
"Well, don't be cross, don't be cross; but really I think there must be mice here."
"Why, first cats and then mice, I really don't know what is the matter with you."
"Oh, I am all right ...
Khee ...
I ...
khee!
Never mind ...
khee-khee-khee-khee!
Oh!
Lord have mercy on me ...
khee."
"You hear, you are making such an upset that he hears you," whispers the young man.
"But if you knew what is happening to me.
My nose is bleeding."
"Let it bleed.
Shut up.
Wait till he goes away."
"But, young man, put yourself in my place.
Why, I don't know with whom I am lying."
"Would you be any better off if you did?
Why, I don't want to know your name.
By the way, what is your name?"
"No; what do you want with my name?...
I only want to explain the senseless way in which...."
"Hush ...
he is speaking again...."
"Really, my love, there is whispering."
"Oh, no, it's the cotton wool in your ears has got out of place."
"Oh, by the way, talking of the cotton wool, do you know that upstairs ...
khee-khee ...
upstairs ...
khee-khee ..."
and so on.
"Upstairs!"
whispered the young man.
"Oh, the devil!
I thought that this was the top storey; can it be the second?"
"Young man," whispered Ivan Andreyitch, "what did you say?
For goodness' sake why does it concern you?
I thought it was the top storey too.
Tell me, for God's sake, is there another storey?"
"Really some one is stirring," said the old man, leaving off coughing at last.
"Hush!
Do you hear?"
whispered the young man, squeezing Ivan Andreyitch's hands.
"Sir, you are holding my hands by force.
Let me go!"
"Hush!"
A slight struggle followed and then there was a silence again.
"So I met a pretty woman ..."
began the old man.
"A pretty woman!"
interrupted his wife.
"Yes....
I thought I told you before that I met a pretty woman on the stairs, or perhaps I did not mention it?
My memory is weak.
Yes, St. John's wort ...
khee!"
"What?"
"I must drink St. John's wort; they say it does good ...
khee-khee-khee!
It does good!"
"It was you interrupted him," said the young man, grinding his teeth again.
"You said, you met some pretty woman to-day?"
his wife went on.
"Eh?"
"Met a pretty woman?"
"Who did?"
"Why, didn't you?"
"I?
When?"
"Oh, yes!..."
"At last!
What a mummy!
Well!"
whispered the young man, inwardly raging at the forgetful old gentleman.
"My dear sir, I am trembling with horror.
My God, what do I hear?
It's like yesterday, exactly like yesterday!..."
"Hush!"
"Yes, to be sure!
I remember, a sly puss, such eyes ...
in a blue hat...."
"In a blue hat!
_Aïe, aïe!
_" "It's she!
She has a blue hat!
My God!"
cried Ivan Andreyitch.
"She?
Who is she?"
whispered the young man, squeezing Ivan Andreyitch's hands.
"Hush!"
Ivan Andreyitch exhorted in his turn.
"He is speaking."
"Ah, my God, my God!"
"Though, after all, who hasn't a blue hat?"
