Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - XVI. The two Worlds, Peasant and Official
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cowardly yet stubborn, look on his face. His small dark eyes
sought mine, and his voice varied as he gazed, from fear to
affected humility, and again to truculence and confidence in
his authority.
The scribe was a young man, dressed in a kind of jacket,
whose face wore an expression compounded of scepticism and
routine.
“Where is the stanavoi then?”
“In the village close by. It is said that an old woman has
been frozen to death there, and he is detained about the body,”
answered the starshina.
I left the office, having given directions that I should be
sent for when the stanavoi came, and went to a hospital in the
neighbourhood, where a physician of my acquaintance lived, in
order to warm myself.
As I passed through the village I called at several cottages
where I had business, and afterwards spent a couple of hours
with the doctor, expecting the message, but none came.
I returned to the office. It was 4 p.m., but the stanavoi had
not yet arrived. The hungry, shivering peasants were still
standing in the streets as in the morning. Large numbers
were grouped before the drink shops. What had they to spend
in drink? Their last sheep? Their next harvest? I do not
know. Cold and hunger had compelled them to have recourse
to this poison. We may not judge them.
I approached one of the groups, and was immediately
surrounded. “Has he not yet come?” I asked.
“No, and we do not know when he will come either.”
It was painful to look at these people. Why had they
gathered here in the morning? I went again to the office.
The starshina was still sitting as before at the little table.
“When is the stanavoi coming?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Something has detained him.” He looked
still more frightened and disquieted.
“Why do you not dismiss the meeting?”
“I cannot do it. He may come at any moment.”
“But night is coming on already. What will the stanavoi
do here then?”
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