Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Six/Chapter 30
CHAPTER XXX
Sviazhsky took Levin's arm, and together they approached their friends.
It was now impossible to avoid Vronsky. He was standing with Stepan Arkadyevitch and Sergyeï Ivanovitch, and was looking straight at Levin as he came along.
"I am delighted!" said he, offering his hand to Levin. "I think we met at the Princess Shcherbatsky's."
"Yes, I remember our meeting perfectly," answered Levin, growing purple; and he immediately turned away and entered into conversation with his brother.
Vronsky, smiling slightly, began conversing with Sviazhsky, apparently having no desire to continue his talk with Levin. But Levin, while he was speaking with his brother, kept looking at Vronsky, trying to think of something that he might say to him so as to atone for his rudeness.
"On whom does the business depend now?" he asked, turning to Sviazhsky and Vronsky.
"On Snetkof. He must either decline or consent," replied Sviazhsky.
"What will he do, consent or not?"
"That is where the trouble lies—neither one thing nor the other," said Vronsky,
"But who will be nominated if he declines?" asked Levin, looking at Vronsky.
"Any one may," answered Sviazhsky.
"You, perhaps," suggested Levin.
"Certainly not," replied Sviazhsky, scowling, and directing an agitated look at the sarcastic gentleman who was standing near Sergyeï Ivanovitch.
"Who then? Nevyedovsky?" continued Levin, feeling that he was treading on dangerous ground.
But this was still worse; Nevyedovsky and Sviazhsky were two of the candidates.
"Not I in any case," replied the sarcastic gentleman.
It was Nevyedovsky himself. Sviazhsky introduced him to Levin.
"This takes hold of you, doesn't it?" asked Stepan Arkadyevitch, winking at Vronsky. "It's just like a race. One might put up stakes."
"Yes, indeed it takes hold," said Vronsky. "And having once begun with it, one must carry it through. It's a battle," said he, contracting his brows and compressing his powerful jaws.
"What a worker Sviazhsky is! He sees everything so clearly and plans in advance!"
"Oh, yes," said Vronsky, heedlessly.
A silence followed, during which Vronsky, since it was necessary to look at something, looked at Levin, at his legs, at his uniform, and then at his face; and noticing his downcast expression said, for the sake of saying something:—
"How is it that you who live in the country are not a justice of the peace? Your uniform is not that of a justice, I see."
"Because I think that justices of the peace are an absurd institution," answered Levin, gloomily, but all the time hoping for an opportunity to atone for his former rudeness.
"I do not think so; on the contrary ...." said Vronsky, surprised.
"It is all child's play," interrupted Levin; "justices of the peace are unnecessary for us. In eight years I never have had any business with one. And the one case I had was decided exactly contrary to the evidence. There's a justice of the peace forty versts from me. I had a small matter amounting to two rubles; I had to send for a lawyer, and that cost fifteen ...."
And Levin went on to tell how a muzhik had stolen some flour from a miller, and when the miller charged him with it, the muzhik made a calumnious complaint.
All this was not to the point, and awkwardly put, and Levin himself, while speaking, felt it.
"Oh, this is such an original!" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, with his oily smile. "Come on; it seems they are balloting." ....
And they separated.
"I don't understand," said Sergyeï Ivanovitch, who had noticed his brother's awkward sally, "I don't understand how it is possible to be so absolutely devoid of political tact. It is just what we Russians lack. The government marshal is our opponent, and you are ami cochon, you are on intimate terms with him. But why on earth make an enemy of Count Vronsky? .... not that I make a friend of him, for I have just refused his invitation to dinner; but he is ours. Then you asked Nevyedovsky if he was going to be a candidate. It isn't the right way to act."
"Oh! I don't understand anything about it; it all seems to me unimportant," said Levin, gloomily.
"You say that it is unimportant; but when you mix up in it, you spoil it."
Levin was silent, and they entered the large hall.
The old marshal had decided to be a candidate, although he felt that there was something up, some trick in preparation; and though he knew that not all the districts had nominated him, still he decided to stand.
Silence reigned in the hall; the secretary in a loud voice explained that votes would now be cast for Mikhaïl Stepanovitch Snetkof, captain of the guard,[1] as government marshal.
The district marshals went from their desks to the government table with plates in which were the ballots, and the election began. "Deposit it at the right," whispered Stepan Arkadyevitch to Levin, as he and his brother approached the table behind the district marshal. But Levin now forgot the count which they had explained to him, and was afraid that Stepan Arkadyevitch had made a mistake in saying "At the right." Now Snetkof was the opposition candidate. Going up to the box. Levin held the ballot in his right hand, but thinking that he was wrong, he transferred the ballot to his left hand just in front of the box itself, and consequently deposited it in the wrong place. The tally-keeper who stood by the box, knowing by the mere motion of the elbow how each one voted, involuntarily frowned. There was no reason for him to practise his cleverness.
Deep silence reigned and the click of the ballots was heard. Then a single voice was heard announcing the affirmative and negative votes.
The marshal was chosen by a decided majority. A great tumult arose, and all rushed toward the door. Snetkof came in, and the nobles surrounded him, offering him their congratulations.
"Well! is it over?" asked Levin of Sergyeï Ivanovitch.
"On the contrary, it is just begun," replied Sviazhsky, taking the words out of his brother's mouth, and smiling. "The opposition candidate may have more votes."
Levin had forgotten all about this, and only now realized that this was only finessing. But it was a bore to him to recall what the plan had been. He felt a sort of humiliation, and a desire to escape from the throng. As no one paid any heed to him, and he thought he was no use to any one, he slipped out into the smaller hall, where, as before, he found consolation in watching the servants. The old servant asked him if he would have something to eat, and Levin consented. After he had eaten a cutlet with beans, and had talked with the servants about their former masters. Levin, not caring to go back to the crowd which was so unpleasant to him, walked about the galleries.
The galleries were full of well-dressed ladies, who were leaning over the balustrades endeavoring not to lose a word that was said in the hall below, and around them was standing and sitting a throng of elegantly dressed lawyers, professors of the gymnasia with spectacles on, and officers. Everywhere they were talking about the elections and the proposed change in the marshal, and saying how interesting the voting was. As Levin stood near one group, he heard a lady saying to a lawyer:—
"How glad I am that I heard Koznuishef. It pays to go hungry for it. It was charming. How distinctly I could hear all he said. There is not one who equals him in the court, only Maidel, and even he is not nearly so eloquent."
Finding a comfortable place near the railing. Levin leaned over and tried to look and to listen. All the nobles were sitting behind screens in the parts of the hall devoted to their various districts. In the center of the hall stood a gentleman in uniform, and in a light but clear voice he was saying:—
"You will now cast your votes for Staff-Captain Yevgeni Ivanovitch Apukhtin as candidate for the position of marshal of the nobility of the government."
A deathlike silence ensued, and again a weak, senile voice was heard:—
"He declined."
Again the same thing began, and again, "He declined." So it went on for about an hour.
Levin, leaning on the balustrade, looked and listened. At first he was filled with amazement, and was anxious to know what it all meant; then, becoming persuaded that it was beyond his power to comprehend it, it began to bore him. Then, as he thought of the excitement and the angry passions expressed in all faces, he felt melancholy; he made up his mind to depart, and he started down-stairs. As he was passing through the entry of the gallery, he encountered a sad-looking gymnasium scholar walking back and forth with streaming eyes. On the staircase he met a couple, a lady swiftly hurrying along on her heels, and the gentle colleague of the prokuror.
"I told you not to be late," the prokuror was saying, just as Levin stood to one side to give the lady room to pass. Levin was on the lowest stair, and was just getting the cloak-check out of his waistcoat pocket, when the secretary found him.
"Excuse me, Konstantin Dmitriyevitch, they are balloting."
And the candidate who was now receiving votes was this very Nevyedovsky whose refusal had seemed to him so explicit!
Levin started to go into the hall. The door was locked; the secretary knocked; the door opened, and as he entered he met two very red-faced proprietors.
"I cannot endure it," said one of the red-faced proprietors.
Immediately behind the proprietor appeared the old government marshal. His face was terrible in its expression of fright and weakness.
"I told you not to let any one go out!" he shouted to the guard.
"I let some one in, your excellency."[2]
"O Lord!" and, sighing painfully, the old marshal, slinking along in his white pantaloons, with bowed head, went through the hall to the great table.
The vote was counted, and Nevyedovsky, as had been planned, was government marshal. Many were happy; many were satisfied, gay; many were enthusiastic; many were dissatisfied and unhappy. The old government marshal was in despair, and could not disguise it. When Nevyedovsky went out of the hall, the throng surrounded him and expressed their enthusiasm toward him as they had done toward the governor when he opened the election, and as they had done toward Snetkof when he was elected.