The Essential Chekhov: Plays, Short Stories, Novel & Biography. Anton Chekhov
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about the husband who killed his wife, Urbenin’s figure always arose before my mind’s eye. Why?… I knew that jealous husbands often kill their unfaithful wives; at the same time I knew that such men as Urbenin do not kill people… And I drove away the thought of the possibility of Olga being killed by her husband as something absurd.
‘Was it he or not he?’ I asked myself as I looked at his unhappy face.
And to speak candidly I did not give myself an affirmative answer, despite the Count’s story and the blood I saw on his hands and face.
‘If he had killed her he would have washed off that blood long ago,’ I said to myself, remembering the proposition of a magistrate of my acquaintance: ‘A murderer cannot bear the blood of his victim.’
If I had wished to tax my memory I could have remembered many aphorisms of a similar nature, but I must not anticipate or fill my mind with premature conclusions.
‘My respects!’ the district doctor said to me. I am very glad you have come… Can you tell me who is master here?’
‘There is no master… Chaos reigns here,’ I answered.
‘A very good apophthegm, but it does not assist me,’ the district doctor answered with bitterness. ‘For the last three hours I have been asking, imploring to have a bottle of port or champagne sent here and not a soul has deigned to listen to my prayer! They are all as deaf as posts! They have only just brought the ice I ordered three hours ago. What does it mean? A woman is dying here, and they only seem to laugh! The Count is pleased to sit in his study drinking liqueurs, and they can’t bring even a wineglass here! I wanted to send to the chemist in the town, and I was told all the horses are worn out, and there’s nobody who can go as they are all drunk… I wanted to send to my hospital for medicines and bandages and they favoured me with a fellow who could hardly stand on his legs. I sent him two hours ago, and what do you think? They tell me he has only just started! Is that not disgusting? They’re all drunk, rude, ill-bred! They all seem idiots! By God, it is the first time in my life I’ve come across such heartless people!’
The doctor’s indignation was justifiable. He had not exaggerated, rather the contrary… A whole night would have been too short a time for pouring out one’s gall on all the disorders and malpractices that could be found on the Count’s estate. The servants were all abominable, having been demoralized by the want of work and supervision. There was not a single manservant among them who could not have served as a model for the type of servant who had lived long and feathered his nest at the Count’s expense.
I went off to get some wine. After dealing a few blows here and there, I succeeded in obtaining both champagne and Valerian drops, to the unspeakable delight of the doctors. An hour later the doctor’s assistant came from the hospital bringing with him all that was necessary.
Pavel Ivanovich succeeded in pouring into Olga’s mouth a tablespoon of champagne. She made an effort to swallow and groaned. Then they injected some sort of drops under the skin.
‘Olga Nikolaevna!’ the district doctor shouted into her ear. ‘Olga Ni-ko-la-evna!’
I doubt if she will regain consciousness!’ Pavel Ivanovich said with a sigh. ‘The loss of blood has been too great; besides the blow she received on the head with some blunt instrument must have caused concussion of the brain.’
It is not my business to decide if there had been concussion of the brain or not, but Olga opened her eyes and asked for something to drink… The stimulants had had effect.
‘Now you can ask her whatever you require…’ Pavel Ivanovich said, nudging my elbow. ‘Ask.’
I went up to the bed. Olga’s eyes were turned on me.
‘Where am I?’ she asked.
‘Olga Nikolaevna!’ I began, ‘do you know me?’
During several seconds Olga looked at me and then closed her eyes.
‘Yes!’ she groaned. ‘Yes!’
‘I am Zinov’ev, the examining magistrate. I had the honour of being acquainted with you, and if you remember, I was best man at your wedding…’
‘Is it thou?’ Olga whispered, stretching out her left arm. ‘Sit down…’
‘She is delirious!’ Screw sighed.
‘I am Zinov’ev, the magistrate,’ I continued, if you remember, I was at the shooting party. How do you feel?’
‘Ask essential questions!’ the district doctor whispered to me. ‘I cannot answer for the consciousness being lasting…’
‘I beg you not to lecture me!’ I said in an offended tone. ‘I know what I have to say… Olga Nikolaevna,’ I continued, turning to her. ‘I beg you to remember the events of the past day. I will help you… At one o’clock you mounted your horse and rode out with a large party to a shoot… The shoot lasted for about four hours… Then there was a halt at a clearing in the forest… Do you remember?’
‘And thou… and thou didst… kill…’
‘The woodcock? After I had killed the wounded woodcock you frowned and went away from the rest of the party… You went into the forest… Now try to collect all your strength and remember. During your walk in the wood you were assaulted by a person unknown to us. I ask you, as the examining magistrate, who was it?’
Olga opened her eyes and looked at me.
‘Tell us the name of that man! There are three other persons in the room besides me…’
Olga shook her head.
‘You must name him,’ I continued. ‘He will suffer a severe punishment. The law will make him pay dearly for his brutality! He will be sent to penal servitude… I am waiting.’
Olga smiled and again shook her head. The further examination produced no results. I was not able to obtain another word from Olga, not a single movement. At a quarter to five she passed away.
CHAPTER XXVII
About seven o’clock in the morning the village elder and his assistants, whom I had sent for, arrived. It was impossible to drive to the scene of the crime: the rain that had begun in the night was still pouring down in buckets. Little puddles had become lakes. The grey sky looked gloomy, and there was no promise of sunlight. The soaked trees appeared dejected with their drooping branches, and sprinkled a whole shower of large drops at every gust of wind. It was impossible to go there. Besides, it might have been useless. The trace of the crime, such as bloodstains, human footprints, etc., had probably been washed away during the night. But the formalities demanded that the scene of the crime should be examined, and I deferred this visit until the arrival of the police, and in the meantime I made out a draft of the official report of the case, and occupied myself with the examination of witnesses. First of all I examined the gipsies. The poor singers had passed the whole night sitting up in the ballrooms expecting horses to be sent round to convey them to the station. But horses were not provided; the servants, when asked, only sent them to the devil, warning them at the same time that his Excellency had forbidden anybody to be admitted to him. They were also not given the samovar they asked for in the morning. The perplexing and ambiguous situation in which they found themselves in a strange house in which a corpse was lying, the uncertainty as to when they could get away, and the damp melancholy weather had driven the gipsies, both men and women, into such a state of distress that in one night they had become thin and pale. They wandered about from room to room, evidently much alarmed and expecting some serious issue. By my examination I only increased their anxiety. First because my lengthy examination delayed their departure from the accursed house indefinitely, and secondly because it alarmed them. The simple people, imagining that they were seriously suspected of the murder, began to assure me with tears in their eyes, that they were not guilty and knew