On the Eve eBook

years old, and to the short-sighted out of date, reveals in a flash the attitude of the Slav towards his political destiny.  His aspirations may have to slumber through policy or necessity; they may be distorted or misrepresented, or led astray by official action, but we confess that for us, On the Eve suggests the existence of a mighty lake, whose waters, dammed back for a while, are rising slowly, but are still some way from the brim.  How long will it take to the overflow?  Nobody knows; but when the long winter of Russia’s dark internal policy shall be broken up, will the snows, melting on the mountains, stream south-west, inundating the Valley of the Danube?  Or, as the national poet, Pushkin, has sung, will there be a pouring of many Slavonian rivulets into the Russian sea, a powerful attraction of the Slav races towards a common centre to create an era of peace and development within, whereby Russia may rise free and rejoicing to face her great destinies?  Hard and bitter is the shaping of nations.  Uvar Ivanovitch still fixes his enigmatical stare into the far distance.

EDWARD GARNETT

January 1895.

THE NAMES OF THE CHARACTERS IN THE BOOK

NIKOLA’I [Nicolas] ARTE’MYEVITCH STA’HOV.

A’NNA VASSI’LYEVNA.

ELE’NA [LE’NOTCHKA, Helene] NIKOLA’EVNA.

ZO’YA [Zoe] NIKI’TISHNA MU’LLER.

ANDRE’I PETRO’VITCH BERSE’NYEV.

PA’VEL [Paul] YA’KOVLITCH (or YA’KOVITCH) SHU’BIN.

DMI’TRI NIKANO’ROVITCH (or NIKANO’RITCH) INSA’ROV.

YEGO’R ANDRE’ITCH KURNATO’VSKY.

UVA’R IVA’NOVITCH STA’HOV.

AUGUSTI’NA CHRISTIA’NOVNA.

A’NNUSHKA.

In transcribing the Russian names into English—­

a has the sound of a in father.
e , , .............a in pane.
i , , .............ee.
u , ,............. oo.
y is always consonantal except when it is
the last letter of the word.
g is always hard.

I

On one of the hottest days of the summer of 1853, in the shade of a tall lime-tree on the bank of the river Moskva, not far from Kuntsovo, two young men were lying on the grass.  One, who looked about twenty-three, tall and swarthy, with a sharp and rather crooked nose, a high forehead, and a restrained smile on his wide mouth, was lying on his back and gazing meditatively into the distance, his small grey eyes half closed.  The other was lying on his chest, his curly, fair head propped on his two hands; he, too, was looking away into the distance.  He was three years older than his companion, but seemed much younger.  His moustache was only just growing, and his chin was covered with a light curly down.  There was something childishly pretty, something attractively delicate, in the small features of his fresh round face, in his soft brown eyes, lovely pouting lips,