My Childhood - Maxim Gorky [33]
"What are you thinking of? What are you thinking of? May God forgive you! I can see that Siberia will be the end of this for him. But in his madness he can't realize what Siberia would mean."
Grandfather moved his legs angrily, and sobbing dryly, said in a choked voice:
"Let him kill me--!"
From outside came howls, and the sound of trampling feet, and a scraping at walls. I snatched the brick from the table and ran to the window with it, but grandmother seized me in time, and hurling it into a corner, hissed:
"You little devil!"
Another time my uncle came armed with a thick stake, and broke into the vestibule of the house from the yard by breaking in the door as he stood on the top of the dark flight of steps. However, grandfather was waiting for him on the other side, stick in hand, with two of his tenants armed with clubs, and the tall wife of the innkeeper holding a rolling-pin in readiness. Grandmother came softly behind them, murmuring in tones of earnest entreaty:
"Let me go to him! Let me have one word with him!"
Grandfather was standing with one foot thrust forward like the man with the spear in the picture called "The Bear Hunt." When grandmother ran to him, he said nothing, but pushed her away by a movement of his elbow and his foot. All four were standing in formidable readiness. Hanging on the wall above them was a lantern which cast an unflattering, spasmodic light on their countenances. I saw all this from the top staircase, and I was wishing all the time that I could fetch grandmother to be with me up there.
My uncle had carried out the operation of breaking in the door with vigor and success. It had slipped out of its place and was ready to spring out of the upper hinge--the lower one was already broken away and jangled discordantly.
Grandfather spoke to his companions-in-arms in a voice which repeated the same jarring sound:
"Go for his arms and legs, but let his silly head alone, please."
In the wall, at the side of the door, there was a little window, through which you could just put your head. Uncle had smashed the panes, and it looked, with the splinters sticking out all round it, like some one's black eye. To this window grandmother rushed, and putting her hand through into the yard, waved it warningly as she cried:
"Mischka! For Christ's sake go away; they will tear you limb from limb. Do go away!"
He struck at her with the stake he was holding. A broad object could be seen distinctly to pass the window and fall upon her hand, and following on this grandmother herself fell; but even as she lay on her back she managed to call out:
"Mischka! Mi--i--schka! Run!"
"Mother, where are you?" bawled grandfather in a terrific voice.
The door gave way, and framed in the black lintel stood my uncle; but a moment later he had been hurled, like a lump of mud off a spade, down the steps.
The wife of the innkeeper carried grandmother to grandfather's room, to which he soon followed her, asking morosely:
"Any bones broken?"
"Och! I should think every one of them was broken," replied grandmother, keeping her eyes closed. "What have you done with him? What have you done with him?"
"Have some sense!" exclaimed grandfather sternly. "Do you think I am a wild beast? He is lying in the cellar bound hand and foot, and I 've given him a good drenching with water. I admit it was a bad thing to do; but who caused the whole trouble?"
Grandmother groaned.
"I have sent for the bone-setter. Try and bear it till he comes," said grandfather, sitting beside her on the bed. "They are ruining us, Mother--and in the shortest time possible."
"Give them what they ask for then."
"What about Varvara?"
They discussed the matter for a long time--grandmother quietly and pitifully, and grandfather in loud and angry tones.
Then a little, humpbacked old woman came, with an enormous mouth, extending from ear to ear; her lower jaw trembled, her mouth hung open like the mouth of a fish, and a pointed nose peeped over her upper lip. Her eyes were not visible. She hardly moved her feet as her crutches