style="font-size:15px;"> “Vasya! Vasya!”
Vasya pulled himself together. His lips were quivering; he tried to say something, but could only convulsively squeeze Arkady’s hand in silence. His hand was cold. Arkady stood facing him, full of anxious and miserable suspense. Vasya raised his eyes again.
“Vasya, God bless you, Vasya! You wring my heart, my dear boy, my friend.”
Tears gushed from Vasya’s eyes; he flung himself on Arkady’s bosom.
“I have deceived you, Arkady,” he said. “I have deceived you. Forgive me, forgive me! I have been faithless to your friendship …”
“What is it, Vasya? What is the matter? “ asked Arkady, in real alarm.
“Look!”
And with a gesture of despair Vasya tossed out of the drawer on to the table six thick manuscripts, similar to the one he had copied.
“What’s this?”
“What I have to get through by the day after tomorrow. I haven’t done a quarter! Don’t ask me, don’t ask me how it has happened,” Vasya went on, speaking at once of what was distressing him so terribly. “Arkady, dear friend, I don’t know myself what came over me. I feel as though I were coming out of a dream. I have wasted three weeks doing nothing. I kept … I … kept going to see her… . My heart was aching, I was tormented by … the uncertainty … I could not write. I did not even think about it. Only now, when happiness is at hand for me, I have come to my senses.”
“Vasya,” began Arkady Ivanovitch resolutely, “Vasya, I will save you. I understand it all. It’s a serious matter; I will save you. Listen! listen to me: I will go to Yulian Mastakovitch tomorrow… . Don’t shake your head; no, listen! I will tell him exactly how it has all been; let me do that … I will explain to him. … I will go into everything. I will tell him how crushed you are, how you are worrying yourself.”
“Do you know that you are killing me now? “ Vasya brought out, turning cold with horror.
Arkady Ivanovitch turned pale, but at once controlling himself, laughed.
“Is that all? Is that all?” he said. “Upon my word, Vasya, upon my word ! Aren’t you ashamed ? Come, listen! I see that I am grieving you. You see I understand you; I know what is passing in your heart. Why, we have been living together for five years, thank God! You are such a kind, soft-hearted fellow, but weak, unpardonably weak. Why, even Lizaveta Mikalovna has noticed it. And you are a dreamer, and that’s a bad thing, too; you may go from bad to worse, brother. I tell you, I know what you want! You would like Yulian Mastakovitch, for instance, to be beside himself and, maybe, to give a ball, too, from joy, because you are going to get married… . Stop, stop! you are frowning. You see that at one word from me you are offended on Yulian Mastakovitch’s account. Let him alone. You know I respect him just as much as you do. But argue as you may, you can’t prevent my thinking that you would like there to be no one unhappy in the whole world when you are getting married… . Yes, brother, you must admit that you would like me, for instance, your best friend, to come in for a fortune of a hundred thousand all of a sudden, you would like all the enemies in the world to be suddenly, for no rhyme or reason, reconciled, so that in their joy they might all embrace one another in the middle of the street, and then, perhaps, come here to call on you. Vasya, my dear boy, I am not laughing; it is true; you’ve said as much to me long ago, in different ways. Because you are happy, you want every one, absolutely every one, to become happy at once. It hurts you and troubles you to be happy alone. And so you want at once to do your utmost to be worthy of that happiness, and maybe to do some great deed to satisfy your conscience. Oh! I understand how ready you are to distress yourself for having suddenly been remiss just where you ought to have shown your zeal, your capacity … well, maybe your gratitude, as you say. It is very bitter for you to think that Yulian Mastakovitch may frown and even be angry when he sees that you have not justified the expectations he had of you. It hurts you to think that you may hear reproaches from the man you look upon as your benefactor and at such a moment! when your heart is full of joy and you don’t know on whom to lavish your gratitude… . Isn’t that true? It is, isn’t it?”
Arkady Ivanovitch, whose voice was trembling, paused, and drew a deep breath.
Vasya looked affectionately at his friend. A smile passed over his lips. His face even lighted up, as though with a gleam of hope.
“Well, listen, then,” Arkady Ivanovitch began again, growing more hopeful, “there’s no necessity that you should forfeit Yulian Mastakovitch ‘s favour… Is there, dear boy? Is there any question of it? And since it is so,” said Arkady, jumping up, “I shall sacrifice myself forlfyou. I am going tomorrow to Yulian Mastakovitch, and don’t oppose me. You magnify your failure to a crime, Vasya. Yulian Mastakovitch is a magnanimous and merciful, and, what is more, he is not like you. He will listen to you and me, and get us out of our trouble, brother Vasya. Well, are you calmer?”
Vasya pressed his friend’s hands with tears in his eyes.
“Hush, hush, Arkady,” he said, “the thing is settled. I haven’t finished, so very well; if I haven’t finished, I haven’t finished, and there’s no need for you to go. I will tell him all about it, I will go myself. I am calmer now, I am perfectly calm; only you mustn’t go. … But listen …”
“Vasya, my dear boy,” Arkady Ivanovitch cried joyfully, “I judged from what you said. I am glad that you have thought better of things and have recovered yourself. But whatever may befall you, whatever happens, I am with you, remember that. I see that it worries you to think of my speaking toYulian Mastakovitch and I won’t say a word, not a word, you shall tell him yourself. You see, you shall go tomorrow… . Oh no, you had better not go, you’ll go on writing here, you see, and I’ll find out about this work, whether it is very urgent or not, whether it must be done by the time or not, and if you don’t finish it in time what will come of it. Then I will run back to you. Do you see, do you see! There is still hope; suppose the work is not urgent it may be all right. Yulian Mastakovitch may not remember, then all is saved.”
Vasya shook his head doubtfully. But his grateful eyes never left his friend’s face.
“Come, that’s enough, I am so weak, so tired,” he said, sighing. “I don’t want to think about it. Let us talk of something else. I won’t write either now; do you know I’ll only finish two short pages just to get to the end of a passage. Listen … I have long wanted to ask you, how is it you know me so well?”
Tears dropped from Vasya’s eyes on Arkady’s hand.
“If you knew, Vasya, how fond I am of you, you would not ask that yes!”
“Yes, yes, Arkady, I don’t know that, because I don’t know why you are so fond of me. Yes, Arkady, do you know, even your love has been killing me? Do you know, ever so many times, particularly when I am thinking of you in bed (for I always think of you when I am falling asleep), I shed tears, and my heart throbs at -the thought … at the thought… . Well, at the thought that you are so fond of me, while I can do nothing to relieve my heart, can do nothing to repay you.”
“You see, Vasya, you see what a fellow you are! Why, how upset you are now,” said Arkady, whose heart ached at that moment and who remembered the scene in the street the day before.
“Nonsense, you want me to be calm, but I never have been calm and happy ! Do you know… . Listen, I want to tell you all about it, but I am afraid of wounding you… . You keep scolding me and being vexed; and I am afraid… . See
