Month to year. Defense of Sevastopol. 1853—1855. Eastern War. Love and death do not know barriers

Farewell

The beginning of March, and the snow in St. Petersburg has not yet melted. It became more fun, the day grew, and the night decreased. But outside the window it was already dark, and junkers sat in their rooms, drinking tea or reading books and magazines. Zalepsky also became interested in reading poetry, having seen enough of Repnin. He just flipped over the page of Ruslan and Lyudmila, reading the phrase:

– The coffin rests sad”

There was a knock at the door, and Michelle heard Yakim’s words:

– What is it?

– Pass the mail to the master, – said, apparently, the postman, and immediately slammed the door going out.

– Mikhail Dmitrievich, a letter to you. From home, – added, smiling. Yakim.

– Come on faster, – Zalepsky eagerly said, jumping up from the chair, – We already missed, sent a letter again, – he turned to Nikita, – Well, and what…

Suddenly his face seemed to be petrified, he looked at Repnin, then at Yakim.

– Pack your things, leave! – the junker said quickly, corrected his uniform and with a quick step, almost went out running.

Repnin did not understand anything, shrugged his shoulders and looked at his friend’s batman.

– Going, your nobility,” Yakim whispered.

Denshchik quickly collected the master’s things in two suitcases, and finally sat down on a stool.

Fifteen minutes later, Zalepsky returned with a price and a pass, His face was the same white, he examined the room in bewilderment, and whispered quietly:

– I’ll be back soon, in two weeks… Guns will lie here…

– There is no one hunting here, – Repnin tried to joke, and looked inquiringly at his friend, but he did not answer, he just smelled an overcoat, and the batman took the master’s suitcases.

***

In a cab, Zalepsky and Yakim quickly reached the post station, where the cadet quickly went to the station keeper. The station was built according to one example – with an office, a stable and a guest house, behind a brick red fence. And the lines were also made of red brick. There was no special dirt, so, a few puddles, only straw and a little manure, but how can it happen that there would be horses, but there would be no manure? There were two drawn carts in the yard, three coachmen lazily discussing something important.

Zalepsky knocked on the door. and only after that entered the room. At the table sat a overweight man, in the uniform of the postal department, in a cap, and checked documents, sometimes making notes in the circular.

– What can I do?” the official asked, immediately seeing the bulges of the cavalry guard regiment.

– Here is the price, – and Michelle handed the stamp paper with the seal of the regiment, – in a state case. And my papers, here, look.

– Mikhail Dmitrievich Zalepsky… Let me introduce myself – Akaki Ilyich Poluektov, an official of the thirteenth rank.

– Very nice.

– Horses will be now, Mikhail Dmitrievich. So to Gdov?

– Exactly.

– In half an hour you leave, – and Akaki Ilyich marked the price tag, and gave out his document.

Kucher gave the wagon, and the travelers moved to Gdov. We drove fast, with five rubles given to their driver. Further, everything was like in a snow-station-paper-truck – road. The roads were dirty, but still, fortunately, the snow did not melt, it was possible to go without unnecessary collisions.

Zalepsky hurried himself, and managed to convince the need for haste and coachmen with the help of blue pieces of paper with pictures. Prayer is not a prayer, but a kind of miracle happened, but only at the behest of the Mint of His Majesty, and not at all at the behest of Providence. We rushed to Gdov in a day and a half. On the road, Michelle did not eat anything, caring only for Yakima. The batman only sighed, watching as the face of the formerly cheerful master turned gray and droopy.

– Yes, you would eat, and then absolutely… Is it so good?

– Everything is fine Yakim… Did you eat? Then go, hire a coachman, get to the estate.

– Now, – said the batman in a sad voice.

Two hours later they were already at the gates of the house, where, seeing those who had arrived, the inhabitants of the estate ran out to meet them.

Michelle woke up already in the arms of her mother, repeating everything:

– How quickly I rushed… Sucked… We waited for you, let’s go, say goodbye, otherwise everything is ready in the church…

***

Mikhail looked and could not believe that his wife, his dear dear Masha, was lying on the bed and was not breathing… My face turned a little yellow, my eyes sunk… He sat down nearby. put his palm on her hands, which became so cold and stiff…

Nearby stood his grandfathers, the Terentyevs, and the Zalepskys. The son was not there either.

“Where’s Petya?”

– He, your son, do not worry with the nurse, – answered the mother, Sofya Mikhailovna, wiping her tears, – everything is fine with Pyotr Mikhailovich…

– How so? asked Michelle, not understanding, what about Masha? Why so?

– Heart… Artamon Grigorievich said that the Lord should have tidied her up, yes, see, regretted, gave us a grandson for joy, – Elizaveta Vasilievna said crying, and Pyotr Fedorovich held his wife by the hand, – Forgive us, Mishenka…

“There is nothing to ask for forgiveness,” the junker replied, hugging both Terentyevs.

– It’s time, – said Rusov, – everyone needs to go out.

Four men carried the body to church, and sad relatives followed the coffin. Early spring, Michel could hardly look at it, saw the body brought into the temple, the priest began to read the funeral service. It smelled strongly of incense and wax, the clouds from the censer rose to the arch of the temple, covered with paintings. The image of the Savior from the fresco on the dome sternly and sadly looked at the young widower, and the Mother of God seemed to console him. Words of prayer flowed and flowed, not too reassuring the husband who lost his beloved wife. Nearby, relatives were baptized, holding lighted candles in their hands, and he simply froze, sometimes looking around Masha’s wax face.

– You can say goodbye, – said the priest, looking at Michel.

He only frowned, and looked back at his father and mother. Dmitry Ivanovich looked at the coffin, and then the young man approached the dead and kissed her on the forehead, then patched her hands, but did not say anything, he simply could not.

Gloomy ice Rusov came out, and returned with the men, agile and dexterously covering the coffin with a lid, and carried it out of the church. It was not far to go, past the graves with the crosses of the rectors of the church, church elders to the family crypt. A rounded rotunda structure decorated with half columns, with a dome roof. Upholstered in bronze, the door was open, the minister lit the candles of the shandal, and they descended twelve steps down, into deathly silence and dead blackness, only illuminated by brightly burning candles. The place was deserted, and stone shelves for coffins awaited their eternal guests. Only one coffin, like a lonely tree in the desert, occupied the prepared place. They stood here for a minute, and began to rise hastily, and a church servant like Charon closed the clanging lock of the door to the other World.

A rich table was set at home, but not for a holiday, but for a wake. Women sat in black scarves, Dmitry Ivanovich tied a black scarf on his son’s right hand, and sat next to him. There is Mikhail Dmitrievich did not want at all, but for the sake of order, he ate a piece of kutya. I drank without feeling the taste of vodka. Towards evening, he was taken to rest, in the room the mirror was hung with crepe.

***

Michelle slept hard, brought her arms and legs together, breathed with difficulty. The night is not easy for him. I fell asleep immediately, but woke up in the morning, and so I lay under the covers. Only closed his eyes and..

Was he afraid of a ghost? No, but it was all so wrong, as if I had seen it in a bad dream. Pinched himself to check, but no, that’s for sure, he did not sleep, but so wanted to wake up…

Yakim knocked on the door and looked into the doorway. I took three steps and froze.

– Let’s dress, since it’s time, – said the widower, sitting on the edge of the bed, – then see off your son.

– All right.

Michelle got dressed and went to the nursery. The batman knocked quietly, and asked:

– Avdotya, can I see you?

– Come on in, I’m done feeding.

The room was bright and clean, there were two cots, a bed for a woman, a table and a closet. On the table were two jugs of water, on a half-copper basin. The nurse was a beautiful and stately woman, with slightly large features, dressed in clean and neat peasant clothes, her hair was removed under a colorful coat.

– Here is your son, Pyotr Mikhailovich – and she put in his hands a baby wrapped in a blanket.

The child was glorious, already smiling, and pulled his hands to his father. Michelle kissed him on the peach cheeks, and sat down on a chair. Pyotr Mikhailovich began to study the shiny buttons of his father’s stake, which attracted him so much.

– Barin, you have to go, have breakfast, – reminded the administrative manager.

– Well, said a little amused Zalepsky, passing the child to the nurse.

– Yakim, give me a cat.

The former cuirassier, not thinking to contradict, gave the wallet to the young man.

“That’s for your care, Avdotya,” Michel said, putting three pieces of gold on the table.

“Thank you, master,” the woman said.

Michel gathered himself, and now he felt much better. A table was set in the dining room, everyone was already waiting for him. The servant applied porridge, Sofya Mikhailovna indulged in semolina, or the cook did pudding. Homemade bread and butter, there were also hard-boiled eggs.

– Tomorrow we will sing pies, your loved ones, Mishenka, – my mother said three times, trying to attract the attention of her son.

She tried to behave normally, but it was clear that her fingers were shaking, and the woman was hiding them under the shawl. Artamon Grigorievich quickly looked at him, and when Mikhail was distracted, he gestured to his father that everything was fine with the young man, and there was no need to worry.

– How long have you been released from the regiment?” the son’s father asked.

– The vacation is given for a month, – he answered, carefully looking into the eyes of the parent.

– Well, good. Just by Easter you will return to St. Petersburg, you have to go back in a week, the roads will become limp. Do not worry about your son, we will look after Peter Mikhailovich. Your business is now serving, in the royal service

Father-in-law and mother-in-law nodded in agreement, as did two grandfathers – Rusov and Zalepsky. Only her mother wept again. Dmitry Ivanovich hugged his wife, whispered in his ear, and she only looked at her son in fright, but calmed down.

Mikhail saw Masha in a dream on the third day after the funeral. And I did not expect, but he shook before going to bed, and fell asleep hard. Marya sat in her favorite chair next to the bed, looked at him for a long time, then got up, and disappeared. And in his head he heard:

“I’m gone. Goodbye.

So they managed for nine days, and the mirrors in the house became open. The Terentyevs now began to live in one of the outbuildings of the estate, not wanting to part with Petya. Only Pyotr Fedorovich Terentyev went to his place once a week, checking the order in the house.

Michelle calmed down a little, a dream returned, and he again began to read his beloved Fenimore Cooper. Everything began to melt, the long-awaited spring began, even the air became different, fresher.

The Zalepsky crew drove Mikhail Dmitrievich to St. Petersburg, and three servants rode with him in order to return the team intact to zealous owners.

***

Easter passed, and with them congratulations from the sovereign and the empress. A festive prayer service was held in the church of St. Zacharias and Sergius, which was attended by the august chiefs of the regiment. The service ended, Michael approached the priest of the regiment,

– Father, you know that my wife is dead. I would like to order a commemoration.

– For all God’s will…

– Maria Petrovna was called.

“I will remember God’s servant Mary. It’s good that they lived in marriage, everything is as good as others. Over time, it gets better.

Michel crossed himself on the image, put candles in front of the faces of the saints. How do you understand what is worse and what is better? After all, it was hard to believe that Masha was no longer there. He just shook his head, trying to understand himself and all this around.

In the evening there was again alone in the room, Repnin drove off to party with Lopukhina in her palace. The young man read in Pushkin’s thoughtfulness. Two candlesticks dispersed the darkness well, and then a deaf voice rang out:

– Barin, the samovar sang. Tea, maybe?

– What are you frightening, Yakim?

– Out, and brought good rolls, but there is tea sausage.

– Come on, sit next to me, eat. Proshka and Nikita left?

– Exactly, with Nikita Andreevich. They said they would only be in the morning. And Prokhor, – the batman stumbled and looked guiltily, – handed the letters, in blue envelopes, for you…

– Burn it, the youth said sternly.

– It is impossible, not on conscience, Mikhail Dmitrievich. The young lady did not do bad to you, write to her. About the fact that your wife died, the whole regiment knows, and, right and she.

Michelle sighed, and thought he was wrong again. After all, what did Olga do wrong? But he himself felt as if he himself had done something bad, dishonest, it crushed him.

– It is necessary to answer. Paper, ink.

Olga Nikolaevna

Could not answer you for a number of sad circumstances. My wife, Maria Petrovna, died, and I remained a widower. But one thing pleases that the son survived, Peter. I am very obliged to you for your attention, I remain completely at your service.

Zalepsky Mikhail Dmitrievich

– Take the letter, said the junker, sealing the envelope.

Yakim in the service

With a letter, and twenty kopecks on the cab driver, Yakim Voinov, the batman of Mikhail Dmitrievich Zalepsky, felt quite happy. The service at the young master was quite excellent. He could go back to his village – but what is there to do? Everything is better here, especially when the master entered his native regiment. Yakim quickly acquired a non-combatant uniform, and now again proudly wore a colet at least not white, but gray, with cavalry guard bulges and a permanent hat. And now, he followed to Lopukhina’s own house, where he was led not only by the master, but also by his own interest.

Interest was not, but rather was, in the sense of the subject was the servant of Olga Nikolaevna, also a widow, thirty-two years old. Not to say that she was young, but Yakim was forty, so the age is right. Yes, and looked very good-stately, smiling, with a simple character, with a pleasant name – Praskovya.

So Yakim thought about his life, sitting in the carriage of a cab. It was not that fast, the horse was also so-so, but the houses seemed to run past, and the necessary palace was not far away.

– Stop here, – the batman deliberately said loudly, – here is the money, – he added, paying.

Yakim quickly walked along the pavement, and now, already knocked on the gate of the gate of the house.

– Who is it there? – the gatekeeper fumbled, Gavrila.

– Yes, I am, Yakim.

– Well, come in, Yakim Silantievich, – said a friendly voice, and the gate, without creaking, opened.

– Hello, Gavrila Andreevich, – the Warriors greeted.

Both men were to match each other, of great height, but Gavrila was composed of curls, and with a beard like a shovel. The warriors were built and tightened in a cavalry way, held their backs in a military way, did not hunch over, and wore a thick mustache and sideburns.

– They are waiting for you, the lady asks for the third day, is there any news?

– From whom? – made a rustic face Yakim.

– From me, – Gavrila answered a little sharply, – from your master. He dropped off somewhere, and the hostess tortured us with deeds. Come on, go, Elisha will see you off.

The batman only settled down, adjusted his mustache and sideburns, moved his hat to his side, and walked quickly to the black entrance. He rang the bell and was opened by a servant in a rich livery.