Page:Dostoyevsky - The House of the Dead, Collected Edition, 1915.djvu/133

 them all.’ I got there, there was no one in the shop, they were all sitting in the backroom. And not a soul but themselves, no servant. He had only one, a German cook. I walked through the shop and saw the door was shut, but it was an old door, fastening with a hook. My heart beat; I stood still and listened they were talking German. I kicked the door with all my might and it opened. I saw the table was laid. On the table there was a big coffee-pot and the coffee was boiling on a spirit lamp. There were biscuits; on another tray a decanter of vodka, herring and sausage, and another bottle with wine of some sort. Luise and her aunt were sitting on the sofa dressed in their best; on a chair opposite them the German, her suitor, with his hair combed, in a tail-coat and a stand-up collar sticking out in front. And in another chair at the side sat another German, a fat grey-headed old man who did not say a word. When I went in Luise turned white. The aunt started up but sat down again, and the German frowned, looking so cross, and got up to meet me.

“‘What do you want?’ said he. I was a bit abashed, but I was in such a rage. “What do I want! Why, you might welcome a visitor and give him a drink. I’ve come to see you.’

“The German thought a minute and said, ‘Sit you.’

“I sat down. "Well, give me some vodka,’ I said.

“Here’s some vodka,’ he said, ‘drink it, pray.’ "Give me some good vodka,’ said I. I was in an awful rage, you know.

“‘It is good vodka.’

“I felt insulted that he treated me as though I were of no account, and above all with Luise looking on. I drank it off and said:

“‘What do you want to be rude for, German? You must make friends with me. I’ve come to you as a friend.’

“‘I cannot with you be friend,’ said he, ‘you are a simple soldier.’

“Then I flew into a fury.

“‘Ah, you scarecrow,’ I said, ‘you sausage-eater! But you know that from this moment I can do anything I like with you? Would you like me to shoot you with my pistol?’

“I pulled out my pistol, stood before him and put the muzzle straight at his head. The women sat more dead than alive, afraid to stir; the old man was trembling like a leaf, he turned pale and didn’t say a word.