Emma Watson Pussy
Books:
Anna Karenina
War And Peace
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his pale
emaciated face and a particularly happy light in his eyes, "you
see, brother..."
Pierre had long been familiar with that story. Karataev had told
it to him alone some half-dozen times and always with a specially
joyful emotion. But well as he knew it, Pierre now listened to that
tale as to something new, and the quiet rapture Karataev evidently
felt as he told it communicated itself also to Pierre. The story was
of an old merchant who lived a good and God-fearing life with his
family, and who went once to the Nizhni fair with a companion--a
rich merchant.
Having put up at an inn they both went to sleep, and next morning
his companion was found robbed and with his throat cut. A bloodstained
knife was found under the old merchants pillow. He was tried,
knouted, and his nostrils having been torn off, "all in due form" as
Karataev put it, he was sent to hard labor in Siberia.
"And so, brother" (it was at this point that Pierre came up), "ten
years or more passed by. The old man was living as a convict,
submitting as he should and doing no wrong. Only he prayed to God
for death. Well, one night the convicts were gathered just as we
are, with the old man among them. And they began telling what each was
suffering for, and how they had sinned against God. One told how he
had taken a life, another had taken two, a third had set a house on
fire, while another had simply been a vagrant and had done nothing. So
they asked the old man: What are you being punished for, Daddy?--I,
my dear brothers, said he, am being punished for my own and other
mens sins. But I have not killed anyone or taken anything that was
not mine, but have only helped my poorer brothers. I was a merchant,
my dear brothers, and had much property. And he went on to tell
them all about it in due order. I dont grieve for myself, he
says, God, it seems, has chastened me. Only I am sorry for my old
wife and the children, and the old man began to weep. Now it happened
that in the group was the very man who had killed the other
merchant. Where did it happen, Daddy? he said. When, and in what
month? He asked all about it and his heart began to ache. So he comes
up to the old man like this, and falls down at his feet! You are
perishing because of me, Daddy, he says. Its quite true, lads, that
this man, he says, is being tortured innocently and for nothing! I,
he says, did that deed, and I put the knife under your head while you
were asleep. Forgive me, Daddy, he says, for Christs sake!"
Karataev paused, smiling joyously as he gazed into the fire, and
he drew the logs together.
"And the old man said, God will forgive you, we are all sinners
in His sight. I suffer for my own sins, and he wept bitter tears.
Well, and what do you think, dear friends?" Karataev continued, his
face brightening more and more with a rapturous smile as if what he
now had to tell contained the chief charm and the whole meaning of his
story: "What do you think, dear fellows? That murderer confessed to
the authorities. I have taken six lives, he says (he was a great
sinner), but what I am most sorry for is this old man. Dont let
him suffer because of me. So he confessed and it was all written down
and the papers sent off in due form. The place was a long way off, and
while they were judging, what with one thing and another, filling in
the papers all in due form--the authorities I mean--time passed. The
affair reached the Tsar. After a while the Tsars decree came: to
set the merchant free and give him a compensation that had been
awarded. The paper arrived and they began to look for the old man.
Where is the old man who has been suffering innocently and in vain? A
paper has come from the Tsar! so they began looking for him," here
Karataevs lower jaw trembled, "but God had already forgiven him--he
was dead! Thats how it was, dear fellows!" Karataev concluded and sat
for a long time silent, gazing before him with a smile.
And Pierres soul was dimly but joyfully filled not by the story
itself but by its
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