Bazarov"s thin lips moved just perceptibly, though he made no reply, but merely took off his cap. His long, thick hair did not hide the prominent b.u.mps on his head.
"Then, Arkady," Nikolai Petrovitch began again, turning to his son, "shall the horses be put to at once? or would you like to rest?"
"We will rest at home, daddy; tell them to harness the horses."
"At once, at once," his father a.s.sented. "Hey, Piotr, do you hear? Get things ready, my good boy; look sharp."
Piotr, who as a modernised servant had not kissed the young master"s hand, but only bowed to him from a distance, again vanished through the gateway.
"I came here with the carriage, but there are three horses for your coach too," said Nikolai Petrovitch fussily, while Arkady drank some water from an iron dipper brought him by the woman in charge of the station, and Bazarov began smoking a pipe and went up to the driver, who was taking out the horses; "there are only two seats in the carriage, and I don"t know how your friend" ...
"He will go in the coach," interposed Arkady in an undertone. "You must not stand on ceremony with him, please. He"s a splendid fellow, so simple--you will see."
Nikolai Petrovitch"s coachman brought the horses round.
"Come, hurry up, bushy beard!" said Bazarov, addressing the driver.
"Do you hear, Mityuha," put in another driver, standing by with his hands thrust behind him into the opening of his sheepskin coat, "what the gentleman called you? It"s a bushy beard you are too."
Mityuha only gave a jog to his hat and pulled the reins off the heated shaft-horse.
"Look sharp, look sharp, lads, lend a hand," cried Nikolai Petrovitch; "there"ll be something to drink our health with!"
In a few minutes the horses were harnessed; the father and son were installed in the carriage; Piotr climbed up on to the box; Bazarov jumped into the coach, and nestled his head down into the leather cushion; and both the vehicles rolled away.
CHAPTER III
"So here you are, a graduate at last, and come home again," said Nikolai Petrovitch, touching Arkady now on the shoulder, now on the knee. "At last!"
"And how is uncle? quite well?" asked Arkady, who, in spite of the genuine, almost childish delight filling his heart, wanted as soon as possible to turn the conversation from the emotional into a commonplace channel.
"Quite well. He was thinking of coming with me to meet you, but for some reason or other he gave up the idea."
"And how long have you been waiting for me?" inquired Arkady.
"Oh, about five hours."
"Dear old dad!"
Arkady turned round quickly to his father, and gave him a sounding kiss on the cheek. Nikolai Petrovitch gave vent to a low chuckle.
"I have got such a capital horse for you!" he began. "You will see. And your room has been fresh papered."
"And is there a room for Bazarov?"
"We will find one for him too."
"Please, dad, make much of him. I can"t tell you how I prize his friendship."
"Have you made friends with him lately?"
"Yes, quite lately."
"Ah, that"s how it is I did not see him last winter. What does he study?"
"His chief subject is natural science. But he knows everything. Next year he wants to take his doctor"s degree."
"Ah! he"s in the medical faculty," observed Nikolai Petrovitch, and he was silent for a little. "Piotr," he went on, stretching out his hand, "aren"t those our peasants driving along?"
Piotr looked where his master was pointing. Some carts harnessed with unbridled horses were moving rapidly along a narrow by-road. In each cart there were one or two peasants in sheepskin coats, unb.u.t.toned.
"Yes, sir," replied Piotr.
"Where are they going,--to the town?"
"To the town, I suppose. To the gin-shop," he added contemptuously, turning slightly towards the coachman, as though he would appeal to him. But the latter did not stir a muscle; he was a man of the old stamp, and did not share the modern views of the younger generation.
"I have had a lot of bother with the peasants this year," pursued Nikolai Petrovitch, turning to his son. "They won"t pay their rent.
What is one to do?"
"But do you like your hired labourers?"
"Yes," said Nikolai Petrovitch between his teeth. "They"re being set against me, that"s the mischief; and they don"t do their best. They spoil the tools. But they have tilled the land pretty fairly. When things have settled down a bit, it will be all right. Do you take an interest in farming now?"
"You"ve no shade; that"s a pity," remarked Arkady, without answering the last question.
"I have had a great awning put up on the north side over the balcony,"
observed Nikolai Petrovitch; "now we can have dinner even in the open air."
"It"ll be rather too like a summer villa.... Still, that"s all nonsense. What air though here! How delicious it smells! Really I fancy there"s nowhere such fragrance in the world as in the meadows here! And the sky too."
Arkady suddenly stopped short, cast a stealthy look behind him, and said no more.
"Of course," observed Nikolai Petrovitch, "you were born here, and so everything is bound to strike you in a special----"
"Come, dad, that makes no difference where a man is born."
"Still----"
"No; it makes absolutely no difference."
Nikolai Petrovitch gave a sidelong glance at his son, and the carriage went on a half-a-mile further before the conversation was renewed between them.
"I don"t recollect whether I wrote to you," began Nikolai Petrovitch, "your old nurse, Yegorovna, is dead."