THE VICE-GOVERNOR SUSPICIOUS.
"Well? _Je suis a vous_. Will you smoke? But wait a bit; we must be careful and not make a mess here," said Maslennikoff, and brought an ashpan. "Well?"
"There are two matters I wish to ask you about."
"Dear me!"
An expression of gloom and dejection came over Maslennikoff's countenance, and every trace of the excitement, like that of the dog's whom its master has scratched behind the cars, vanished completely. The sound of voices reached them from the drawing- room. A woman's voice was heard, saying, _"Jamais je ne croirais,"_ and a man's voice from the other side relating something in which the names of la Comtesse Voronzoff and Victor Apraksine kept recurring. A hum of voices, mixed with laughter, came from another side. Maslennikoff tried to listen to what was going on in the drawing-room and to what Nekhludoff was saying at the same time.
"I am again come about that same woman," said Nekhludoff.
"Oh, yes; I know. The one innocently condemned."
"I would like to ask that she should be appointed to serve in the prison hospital. I have been told that this could be arranged."
Maslennikoff compressed his lips and meditated. "That will be scarcely possible," he said. "However, I shall see what can be done, and shall wire you an answer tomorrow."
"I have been told that there were many sick, and help was needed."
"All right, all right. I shall let you know in any case."
"Please do," said Nekhludoff.
The sound of a general and even a natural laugh came from the drawing-room.
"That's all that Victor. He is wonderfully sharp when he is in the right vein," said Maslennikoff.
"The next thing I wanted to tell you," said Nekhludoff, "is that 130 persons are imprisoned only because their passports are overdue. They have been kept here a month."
And he related the circumstances of the case.
"How have you come to know of this?" said Maslennikoff, looking uneasy and dissatisfied.
"I went to see a prisoner, and these men came and surrounded me in the corridor, and asked . . ."
"What prisoner did you go to see?"
"A peasant who is kept in prison, though innocent. I have put his case into the hands of a lawyer. But that is not the point."
"Is it possible that people who have done no wrong are imprisoned only because their passports are overdue? And . . ."
"That's the Procureur's business," Maslennikoff interrupted, angrily. "There, now, you see what it is you call a prompt and just form of trial. It is the business of the Public Prosecutor to visit the prison and to find out if the prisoners are kept there lawfully. But that set play cards; that's all they do."
"Am I to understand that you can do nothing?" Nekhludoff said, despondently, remembering that the advocate had foretold that the Governor would put the blame on the Procureur.
"Oh, yes, I can. I shall see about it at once."
"So much the worse for her. _C'est un souffre douleur_," came the voice of a woman, evidently indifferent to what she was saying, from the drawing-room.
"So much the better. I shall take it also," a man's voice was heard to say from the other side, followed by the playful laughter of a woman, who was apparently trying to prevent the man from taking something away from her.
"No, no; not on any account," the woman's voice said.
"All right, then. I shall do all this," Maslennikoff repeated, and put out the cigarette he held in his white, turquoise-ringed hand. "And now let us join the ladies."
"Wait a moment," Nekhludoff said, stopping at the door of the drawing-room. "I was told that some men had received corporal punishment in the prison yesterday. Is this true?"
Maslennikoff blushed.
"Oh, that's what you are after? No, mon cher, decidedly it won't do to let you in there; you want to get at everything. Come, come; Anna is calling us," he said, catching Nekhludoff by the arm, and again becoming as excited as after the attention paid him by the important person, only now his excitement was not joyful, but anxious.
Nekhludoff pulled his arm away, and without taking leave of any one and without saying a word, he passed through the drawing-room with a dejected look, went down into the hall, past the footman, who sprang towards him, and out at the street door.
"What is the matter with him? What have you done to him?" asked Anna of her husband.
"This is _a la Francaise_," remarked some one.
"_A la Francaise_, indeed--it is _a la Zoulou_."
"Oh, but he's always been like that."
Some one rose, some one came in, and the clatter went on its course. The company used this episode with Nekhludoff as a convenient topic of conversation for the rest of the "at-home."
On the day following his visit to Maslennikoff, Nekhludoff received a letter from him, written in a fine, firm hand, on thick, glazed paper, with a coat-of-arms, and sealed with sealing-wax. Maslennikoff said that he had written to the doctor concerning Maslova's removal to the hospital, and hoped Nekhludoff's wish would receive attention. The letter was signed, "Your affectionate elder comrade," and the signature ended with a large, firm, and artistic flourish. "Fool!" Nekhludoff could not refrain from saying, especially because in the word "comrade" he felt Maslennikoff's condescension towards him, i.e., while Maslennikoff was filling this position, morally most dirty and shameful, he still thought himself a very important man, and wished, if not exactly to flatter Nekhludoff, at least to show that he was not too proud to call him comrade.
“嗯，来吧，我听候吩咐。要一抽一烟吗？等一下，我们别把这地方弄脏了，”玛斯连尼科夫说着拿来一个烟灰碟。“嗯，你说吧，有什么事？”
“我有两件事要麻烦你。”
“原来如此。”
玛斯连尼科夫的脸色变得一陰一郁而颓丧了。那种象被主人搔过耳朵的小狗一样兴奋的神色顿时消失得影踪全无。客厅里传来谈话声。一个女人说：“我绝对不相信，绝对不相信。”客厅另一头有个男人重复说：“伏伦卓娃伯爵夫人和维克多·阿普拉克辛。”再有一个方向传来喧闹的说笑声。玛斯连尼科夫一面留神听着客厅里的谈笑，一面听着聂赫留朵夫说话。
“我还是为了那个女人的事来找你，”聂赫留朵夫说。
“哦，就是那个被冤枉判罪的女人吗？我知道，我知道。”
“我求你把她调到医院里去工作。据说，可以这么办。”
玛斯连尼科夫抿紧嘴唇，考虑起来。
“恐怕不行，”他说。“不过，我去同他们商量一下，明天给你回电。”
“我听说那里病人很多，需要护一士。”
“好吧，好吧。不管怎么样，我都会给你回音的。”
“那么，费神了，”聂赫留朵夫说。
客厅里传来一阵哄笑声，听上去似乎不是装出来的。
“这是维克多在作怪，”玛斯连尼科夫笑着说，“他兴致好的时候，说话总是俏皮得很。”
“再有一件事，”聂赫留朵夫说，“现在监狱里还关着一百三十个人，他们没有什么罪，就因为身分证过期了。他们在那里已经关了一个月了。”
聂赫留朵夫就说明他们是怎样被关押的。
“你怎么知道这些事？”玛斯连尼科夫问，脸上忽然现出焦虑和恼怒的神色。
“我去找一个被告，他们在走廊里把我围住，要求我……”
“你找的是哪一个被告哇？”
“一个农民，他平白无故遭到控告，我替他请了一位律师。这且不去说它。难道那些人没有犯一点罪，只因为身分证过期就该坐牢吗？……”
“这是检察官的事，”玛斯连尼科夫恼怒地打断聂赫留朵夫的话说。“这就是你所谓办事迅速、公平合理的审判制度。副检察官本来有责任视察监狱，调查在押人员是不是都合乎法律手续。可是他们什么也不干，只知道打牌。”
“那你就毫无办法吗？”聂赫留朵夫想起律师说过，省长会把责任往检察官身上推，老大不高兴地说。
“不，我会管的。我马上就去处理。”
“对她来说，这样更糟。这个苦命的女人，”客厅里传来一个女人的声音，她对刚刚讲的那件事显然漠不关心。
“那样更好，我把这个也带走，”另一头传来一个男人戏谑的声音，以及一个女人的嬉笑声，她似乎不肯把一件什么东西给他。
“不行，不行，说什么也不行，”女人的声音说。
“好吧，那些事让我去办吧，”玛斯连尼科夫用戴绿松石戒指的白手熄灭香烟，重复说，“现在我们到太太们那儿去吧。”
“对了，还有一件事，”聂赫留朵夫没有走进客厅，在门口站住说。“我听说昨天监牢里有人受了体罚。真有这样的事吗？”
玛斯连尼科夫脸红了。
“阿，你是说那件事吗？不，老兄，真不能放你到监狱里去，什么闲事你都要管。走吧，走吧，安娜在叫我们了，”他说着挽住聂赫留朵夫的胳膊，情绪又非常激动，就象刚才那位贵客光临时一样，但此刻不是兴高采烈，而是惊惶不安。
聂赫留朵夫从玛斯连尼利夫的臂弯里一抽一出胳膊，没有向谁告别，也没有说什么，脸色一陰一沉地穿过客厅和大厅，从站起来向他致意的男仆们面前经过，走到前厅，来到街上。
“他怎么了？你什么事得罪他了？”安娜问丈夫。
“他这是法国人作风，”有人说。
“这哪儿是法国人作风，这是祖鲁人①作风。”
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①非洲东南部一个民族。
“嗯，他向来是这样的。”
有人起身告辞，有人刚刚来到，叽叽喳喳的谈话在继续着。聂赫留朵夫的事便自然而然成了今天谈话的好话题。
聂赫留朵夫走访玛斯连尼科夫后的第二天，就收到他的来信。玛斯连尼科夫在一张印有官衔、打有火漆印的光滑厚信纸上字迹奔放地写道，关于把玛丝洛娃调到医院一事他已写信给医生，估计可以如愿以偿。信末署名是“热一爱一你的老同事玛斯连尼科夫”，而“玛斯连尼科夫”这个名字则是用花俏粗一大的字体签署的。
“蠢货！”聂赫留朵夫忍不住说。从“同事”这两个字上特别感觉到玛斯连尼科夫对他有一种屈尊俯就的味道，表示他玛斯连尼科夫虽然担任着伤天害理的无一耻职务，仍自以为是个要人。他自称是他的同事，即使不是有意奉承，至少也表示并未因自己名位显赫而目中无人。