Under the yoke, p.8
Under the Yoke, page 8
round.
'' • Here am I," answered Father Gedeon, in a shrill
voice, emerging from the monastery whither he had gone
to see if breakfast would soon be ready. " In the kitchen again. Father Gedeon : don't you know
that gluttony is a deadly sin ?
" So saying, the abbot
enjoined him to fasten the saddle-bags on the donkey, and
proceed to the village of Voinyagovo, to inspect the hay
makers who were mowing the monastery's fields.
Father Gedeon was round, bloated, and puffy as a sheep's
bladder when blown out. The slight movement he had
made in coming to the door had brought the dew of suffering
to his forehead.
36 UNDER THE YOKE
** Father Higoumen," he murmured in tones of agonised
entreaty, clasping his hands before him, and appalled at the
idea of a journey in this sinful world ;
"
Father Higoumen,
were it not better to remove this bitter cup from the lips of
your lowly brother ?
"
" What bitter cup, man ? Do you mean my sending you
to the mowers ? Why, you're going to ride the donkey,
and as for the labour, all you've to do is to hold the reins
with one hand and give your benediction with the other,"
said the higoumen, smiling.
" Father Natanael, it isn't for the labour ; we come into
the world for a life of labour and suffering. But the times
are evil."
' ' Evil ? In May ? Why, the trip will do you good."
*' The times, father, the times," murmured Father
Gedeon.
" You see they have taken the doctor, and may
send the Christian to destruction. The race of Hagar is
merciless. God forbid, if they accuse me of stirring up the
people to revolt, the whole monastery may suffer. The
peril is imminent."
The higoumen burst out " laughing. Ha ! ha ! ha ! "he cried, in uncontrollable mirth, with
arms akimbo, as he looked at the rotund form of Father
Gedeon.
" And do you think the Turks will suspect you !
Father Gedeon a political emissary ! Ha ! ha ! is it not
written,
' thou shalt make the sluggard to work, that he may
learn wisdom.' Your besetting sin of idleness has made me
laugh when I was but little disposed to do so. Deacon
Vikenti ! Deacon Vikenti ! Come and listen to Father
Gedeon. Mouncho, go and call Vikenti ; I want to make
him laugh."
In truth, the boisterous merriment of the higoumen made
the walls ring again.
When he heard the order, Mouncho shook his head still
more strangely, his eyes staring with terror.
" The Russian !
" he cried, trembling, and pointed to
the staircase up which the deacon had gone. And to
avoid the errand, he fled hurriedly to the opposite side of
the quadrangle.
" Russian ! What does he mean by that ?
"
" He means the ghost, your reverence," said Father
Gedeon.
'' • And how long is it since Mouncho has become such a
HEROISM 87
coward ? Why, he used to Hve all alone, like an owl in
the wilderness."
'' Of a truth, father, a spirit walks nightly on the verandah.
Last night Mouncho came to my cell in a paroxysm
of terror. He had seen a ghost in white garments coming
out of the cell with the windows. He also told me of other
things, from which may the Lord deUver us. We must
sprinKle the top story with holy water."
Mouncho had stopped some distance off, and was staring
terrified, at the top story.
'* What can he have seen ? Come, father, let's inspect
the premises," said the higoumen, who fancied that perhaps
a thief might have concealed himseK there.
" The Lord forbid," said Gedeon, crossing himself. The
higoumen went upstairs alone.
In truth, when the higoumen called the deacon, the
latter htid gone to Kralich's cell.
" What's the news, father ? "asked the latter, seeing his
disturbed countenance.
"
There's no danger," said the deacon at once reassuringly,
"
but the higoumen has brought very bad news.
Last night Sokoloff was arrested and carried off to K."
" Who is this Sokoloff ?
"
"
He's a doctor in the town — a very decent youth. It
seems they found revolutionary books or papers on him. I
know him to be a fervent patriot," said the deacon, sorrowfully
; then, after a moment's pause, he added,
" When the
police were pursuing him last night he fired and wounded a
zaptie, who had laid hold of his overcoat. Poor doctor !
I'm afraid he's done for. Thank God, you got off safe,
and nothing seems to have been heard of you in
town."
As the deacon stopped talking, he observed with surprise
that Kralich had taken his head between his hands, and was
pacing up and down the room like a madman, sighing
deeply. These signs of a despair, as inexplicable as it was
sudden, greatly astonished the deacon.
" Why, what's the matter, man ? Thank God, you're all
right," cried Vikenti.
Kralich stopped in front of him, with a face distorted by
moral suffering, and exclaimed almost angrily : "
All right ! all right, am I ? That's easily said !
" and
he struck his forehead.
" What are you thinking of,
38 UNDER THE YOKE
Vikenti ? Don't you understand 1 My God ! I forgot to
tell you that the overcoat was mine. Last night, at the
outskirts of the town, some kind young man, who showed
me Marko's house — evidently this Dr. Sokoloff — gave it to
me, seeing what a state I was in, and that's the coat I left
in the zaptie's hands. I took some papers out of an inner
pocket and put them in the pocket of the coat : they were a
copy of the Nezavisimost and a proclamation which they
gave me in a hut at Troyan, where I spent the night. That's
not enough, but they must go and say he fired at a zaptie,
when I never touched the revolver ! Ah ! the scoundrels !
Now do you see ? that man has sacrificed himself for me !
It is my accursed fate to bring misfortune on all those who do
good to me !
"
"
It's a great misfortune," said Vikenti, pityingly ; "
especially since you can't help him, as matters stand."
Kralich turned on him with a burning countenance.
'* What do you mean, I can't help him ? Am I to leave
a generous benefactor, and, as you say, a fervent patriot,
to perish on my account ? That would be baseness
indeed !
"
The deacon looked at him bewildered.
"
No, I shall rescue him from this mishap, even if it
costs me my life ?
"
" How ! what's to be done ? tell me : I am ready to do
anything," cried Vikenti.
' I alone will save him !
"
" You !
"
"
Yes, I ; I'll rescue him. I am the only one who is
able and bound to rescue him," cried Kralich, excitedly, as
he paced up and down the cell, with an expression of
utmost decision and courage. " Are we to make an assault on the prison ?
"
asked
Vikenti, who was lost in astonishment and half afraid lest
Kralich had taken leave of his senses.
" Mr. KraHch," he continued,
" how do you mean to save
him ?
"
" What ! don't you understand ? I shall give myself
up!" " You — ^give yourseK up ? — ^alone ?
"
** Do you think I should entreat them to release him ?
Listen, Father Vikenti ! I'm an honest man, and I won't
owe my life to the sufferings of others. I haven't come
AT CHORBAJI YORDAN'S 39
1500 miles to commit an act of baseness. If I can't sacrifice
my life nobly, at least I can do so honourably. Do you
understand ? Unless I give myself up to the Turks this
very day, and say
' this man is innocent — I have never had
any dealings with him — the coat was taken from my back —
the papers are mine — I'm the culprit — I'm guilty — if you
like, I fired at the zaptie — do what you please to me ' —
unless I do this, Dr. Sokolofi is lost — especially as he was
unable or unwilHng to say where he was ? Tell me, can I
do otherwise ?
"
The deacon was silent. In his heart he recognised, as
an honest man, that Kralich was right. This self-sacrifice
was imposed on him by feelings of justice and humanity,
and he could not wait for others to point out to him the
course he should take. The man seemed to him to become
greater and more dignified in his eyes. His figure assumed
that calm, noble, heavenly brightness with which only a
great and sudden flash of valour can inspire the human
countenance. Kralich's earnest, simple, and ringing words
echoed in his ears with a soft and majestic sound. He
would have liked to be in his place, to say such words —
ay, and carry them out. His eyes filled with tears.
" Show me the way to K.," said Kralich. Suddenly the
great bearded head of the higoumen appeared at the window;
they had not heard his footsteps in the heat of their discussion.
Kralich started, and glanced inquiringly at the deacon.
Vikenti hurriedly pointed to the door, took the higoumen
aside to the corridor, and whispered to him long and
passionately, with excited gestures, and side-glances at the
cell where Kralich was waiting impatiently. When the door
opened and Vikenti and Natanael returned, Kralich advanced
towards the higoumen and sought to kiss his hand.
"
No, no, I'm not worthy that you should kiss my hand,"
cried the higoumen, in tears ; and placing both arms round
his neck, he kissed his lips affectionately, as a father kisses
a beloved and long-absent son.
CHAPTER VIII : AT CHORBAJI YORDAN'S
There was a great family gathering that day at Chorbaji
Yordan's, given in accordance with the old Bulgarian custom,
in honour of a recent wedding in the family. All his
relations and the friends of the family had been invited.
40 UNDER THE YOKE
Yordan DiamandiefiE was now an old man, somewhat
feeble, of a morose and nervous disposition : he belonged
to that section of the Bulgarian bourgeoisie — the Chorbajis —
who have done so much to make the whole class odious.
His wealth went on increasing, his numerous familyflourished,
and he was universally feared, but no one liked
him. Certain old stories of iniquitous acts of oppression
and wrong, in which the poor had suffered and the connivance
of the Turks been obtained by fawning, flattery, or
still worse means, kept up his impopularity, even now that
he was unable or unwilling to injure any one. He belonged
entirely to the past generation.
The only acts of oppression he now permitted himself
to carry on were exercised at the cost of the schoolteachers
— or of such as refused to bow before his will.
The wolf may change his skin, but not his teeth, says the
proverb.
In spite of Yordan's surly disposition, the meal was a
merry one. Mother Ghinka, his married daughter still
fairly good-looking, loquacious, quick at repartee, and very
lively, who did not scruple to box the ears of her thoroughly
subdued husband whenever necessary, kept the guests in
fits of laughter by the jests and stories which her indefatigable
tongue scattered hither and thither. Those who
enjoyed her wit most were the three nuns. One of these,
Sister Hajji
* Rovoama, Yordan's sister, who was lame,
malicious, and a thorough mischief-maker, was no less
talkative than Ghinka, and had many a bitter jest at the expense
of absent friends. Hajji Simeon, the host's son-in-law,
laughed loudly with his mouth full ; Hajji Pavli, the lately
married bridegroom, carried away by his mirth, was eating
with the spoon of Alafranga Mikhalaki, who, annoyed at this
inadvertence, cast reproving glances round him Mikhalaki
bore the well-deserved nickname of
"
Alafranga," because
thirty years ago he had been the first in the town to wear
European trousers and stammer a few words of French.
Unfortunately his efforts had stopped short there. The
coat he wore to-day was of the fashion prevailing at the
time of the Crimean War, and his slender French vocabulary
had not received a single addition. But his renown
* The word "
Hajji
"
implies that the person to whose name it is
prefixed, whether Christian or Mussulman, has performed the pilgrimage
to Jerusalem or Mecca respectively,
AT CHORBAJI YORDAN'S 41
as a man of learning, and with it his flattering nickname,
had come down to the present day. Mikhalaki
fully realised his o^vvn importance, and was very proud of
it ; he was stiff in manner, spoke with a pompous air, and
would allow no one to call him simply Mikhal, so as to
avoid being taken for the policeman, who also rejoiced in
that name. Indeed, Mikalaki was very susceptible -with
respect to names. He had had a feud of many years' standing
with his neighbour, Ivancho Yotata, because the latter
had twice in one evening mispronounced his name, in his
usual blundering fashion.
Opposite Alafranga sat Damiancho Grigoroff, a man of
fifty years of age, of moderate height, thin, dark, with a
look of intense cunning, and thin mobile lips of ironical
expression, but with an extremely serious countenance ; he
also had a reputation for wisdom, but of an entirely different
kind from Alafranga's. He was a loquacious and fluent
story-teller, of inexhaustible resource, as deep as a well, and
with a very powerful imagination, rich as the treasury of
Halim Aga : with him a drop became an ocean, and a
molehill a mountain — indeed, he would often begin by
inventing the molehill. The most remarkable feature was
that he beHeved his own stories — the surest means of making
others believe them. In other respects, Damiancho was
one of the principal tradesmen, a patriot, and a man of sage
counsels.
Mother Ghinka's husband was eating his dinner in a
subdued manner, for he knew that if he ventured to say
anything his wife would at once transfix him with a look
of piercing severity, so that he dared not open his mouth
before her. He was a weak man of no character, and was
of so little account that instead of his wife being called
Ghinka Ghenkova, after him, he was known as Ghinka's
Ghenko. By his side Necho Pironkoff, the member of
Council, sat whispering with an air of importance to Kiriak
Stefchoff, who was dfssed in the height of fashion, and
