"I know a hut in the neighbourhood," replied the corporal, "where you might sleep; but I am afraid it would scarcely suit your honour."
"Go on," I said, paying no attention to his observation.
After much walking through dirty little streets, we at last reached a sort of cabin on the edge of the sea.
The full moon cast its light on the thatched roof and the white walls of my proposed habitation. In the court, surrounded by a sort of palisade, I saw a hut, older and more broken down than the principal one. From this hut the ground sloped rapidly through the court down towards the sea, and I saw at my feet the foam of the troubled waters. The moon seemed to be contemplating the restless element, which was undergoing her influence. By the rays of the ruler of the night, I could make out, at a considerable distance from the shore, two ships, whose black sails stood out like spiders' webs against the dull tints of the sky. "This will do," I said to myself, "to-morrow morning I shall start for Ghelendchik."
A Cossack of the line was acting as my servant. I told him to take out my trunk and send away the postilion; after which I called the master of the house. I could get no answer. I knocked, but there was still no reply. What could it mean? I knocked again, and at last a boy of about fourteen showed himself.
"Where's the master of the house?"
"There is none," returned the child, in the dialect of Little Russia.
"No master! then where is the mistress?"
"Gone into the village."
"Who will open the door then?" I cried, at the same time kicking at it.
The door opened of itself, and out came a wave of damp steam.
I struck a match, and saw by its light a blind boy, standing motionless before me.
I must here say that I am strongly prejudiced against the blind, the deaf, the lame, the hunchbacked; in short, against the deformed in general. I have remarked that there is always a singular correspondence between the physical formation of a man and his moral nature; as though by the loss of a member the individual lost certain faculties of the soul.
I examined the child's face; but what can one make of a physiognomy without eyes? I looked at him for some time, with a feeling of compassion, when suddenly I saw on his lips a cunning smile, which produced upon me a very disagreeable impression. "Could this blind boy be not so blind as he appeared?" I said to myself. Answering my own question I said that the boy was evidently suffering from cataract, and that the appearance of cataract cannot be simulated. Why, moreover, should he affect blindness? Yet in spite of my argument I still remained vaguely suspicious.
"Is the mistress of the cabin your mother?" I said to the boy.
"No."
"Who are you, then?"
"A poor orphan," he replied.
"Has the mistress any children?"
"She has one daughter, who has gone to sea with a Tartar."
"What Tartar?"
"How do I know? A Tartar of the Crimea, a boatman from Kertch."
