The Captain stood
with his hands behind him, and looked at him in silence. He then
began in a silly way:
"Philip! Say something to me . . . a word of comfort to a friend
. . . come. . . . I love you, brother! . . . All men are
beasts. . . . You were the only man for me . . . though you were
a drunkard. Ah! how you did drink vodki, Philip! That was the
ruin of you! You ought to have listened to me, and controlled
yourself. . . . Did I not once say to you . . . ?"
The mysterious, all-destroying reaper, called Death, made up his
mind to finish the terrible work quickly, as if insulted by the
presence of this drunken man at the dark and solemn struggle.
The teacher sighed deeply, and quivered all over, stretched
himself out, and died. The Captain stood shaking to and fro, and
continued to talk to him.
"Do you want me to bring you vodki? But it is better that you
should not drink, Philip . . . control yourself or else drink!
Why should you really control yourself? For what reason, Philip?
For what reason?"
He took him by the foot and drew him closer to himself.
"Are you dozing, Philip? Well, then, sleep.
Pages:
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130