Resurrection by Leo Tolstoy (best sci fi novels of all time TXT) 📕

Nekhlúdoff, but he paid no attention and started walking by Kryltzóff’s side, holding on to the side of the cart with his hand. Dressed in a sheepskin coat, with a fur cap on his head and his mouth bound up with a handkerchief, he seemed paler and thinner than ever. His beautiful eyes looked very large and brilliant. Shaken from side to side by the jottings of the cart, he lay with his eyes fixed on Nekhlúdoff; but when asked about his health, he only closed his eyes and angrily shook his head. All his energy seemed to be needed in order to bear the jolting of the cart. Mary Pávlovna was on the other side. She exchanged a significant glance with Nekhlúdoff, which expressed all her anxiety about Kryltzóff’s state, and then began to talk at once in a cheerful manner.

“It seems the officer is ashamed of himself,” she shouted, so as to be heard above the rattle of the wheels. “Bousóvkin’s manacles have been removed, and he is carrying his little girl himself. Katúsha and Símonson are with him, and Véra, too. She has taken my place.”

Kryltzóff said something that could not be heard because of the noise, and frowning in the effort to repress his cough shook his head. Then Nekhlúdoff stooped towards him, so as to hear, and Kryltzóff, freeing his mouth of the handkerchief, whispered:

“Much better now. Only not to catch cold.”

Nekhlúdoff nodded in acquiescence, and again exchanged a glance with Mary Pávlovna.

“How about the problem of the three bodies?” whispered Kryltzóff, smiling with great difficulty. “The solution is difficult.”

Nekhlúdoff did not understand, but Mary Pávlovna explained that he meant the well-known mathematical problem which defined the position of the sun, moon and earth, which Kryltzóff compared to the relations between Nekhlúdoff, Katúsha and Símonson. Kryltzóff nodded, to show that Mary Pávlovna had explained his joke correctly.

“The decision does not lie with me,” Nekhlúdoff said.

“Did you get my note? Will you do it?” Mary Pávlovna asked.

“Certainly,” answered Nekhlúdoff; and noticing a look of displeasure on Kryltzóff’s face, he returned to his conveyance, and holding with both hands to the sides of the cart, got in, which jolted with him over the ruts of the rough road. He passed the gang, which, with its grey cloaks and sheepskin coats, chains and manacles, stretched over three-quarters of a mile of the road. On the opposite side of the road Nekhlúdoff noticed Katúsha’s blue shawl, Véra Doúkhova’s black coat, and Símonson’s crochet cap, white worsted stockings, with bands, like those of sandals, tied round him. Símonson was walking with the woman and carrying on a heated discussion.

When they saw Nekhlúdoff they bowed to him, and Símonson raised his hat in a solemn manner. Nekhlúdoff, having nothing to say, did not stop, and was soon ahead of the carts. Having got again on to a smoother part of the road, they drove still more quickly, but they had continually to turn aside to let pass long rows of carts that were moving along the road in both directions.

The road, which was cut up by deep ruts, lay through a thick pine forest, mingled with birch trees and larches, bright with yellow leaves they had not yet shed. By the time Nekhlúdoff had passed about half the gang he reached the end of the forest. Fields now lay stretched along both sides of the road, and the crosses and cupolas of a monastery appeared in the distance. The clouds had dispersed, and it had cleared up completely; the leaves, the frozen puddles and the gilt crosses and cupolas of the monastery glittered brightly in the sun that had risen above the forest. A little to the right mountains began to gleam white in the blue-grey distance, and the trap entered a large village. The village street was full of people, both Russians and other nationalities, wearing peculiar caps and cloaks. Tipsy men and women crowded and chattered round booths, traktírs, public houses and carts. The vicinity of a town was noticeable. Giving a pull and a lash of the whip to the horse on his right, the driver sat down sideways on the right edge of the seat, so that the reins hung over that side, and with evident desire of showing off, he drove quickly down to the river, which had to be crossed by a ferry. The raft was coming towards them, and had reached the middle of the river. About twenty carts were waiting to cross. Nekhlúdoff had not long to wait. The raft, which had been pulled far up the stream, quickly approached the landing, carried by the swift waters. The tall, silent, broad-shouldered, muscular ferryman, dressed in sheepskins, threw the ropes and moored the raft with practised hand, landed the carts that were on it, and put those that were waiting on the bank on board. The whole raft was filled with vehicles and horses shuffling at the sight of the water. The broad, swift river splashed against the sides of the ferryboats, tightening their moorings.

When the raft was full, and Nekhlúdoff’s cart, with the horses taken out of it, stood closely surrounded by other carts on the side of the raft, the ferryman barred the entrance, and, paying no heed to the prayers of those who had not found room in the raft, unfastened the ropes and set off.

All was quiet on the raft; one could hear nothing but the tramp of the ferryman’s boots and the horses changing from foot to foot.

XXI

Nekhlúdoff stood on the edge of the raft looking at the broad river. Two pictures kept rising up in his mind. One, that of Kryltzóff, unprepared for death and dying, made a heavy, sorrowful impression on him. The other, that of Katúsha, full of energy, having gained the love of such a man as Símonson, and found a true and solid path towards righteousness, should have been pleasant, yet it also created a heavy impression on