Part 3 Chapter 2
AN INCIDENT OF THE MARCH.
This is what Mary Pavlovna and Katusha saw when they came up to the scene whence the noise proceeded. The officer, a sturdy fellow, with fair moustaches, stood uttering words of foul and coarse abuse, and rubbing with his left the palm of his right hand, which he had hurt in hitting a prisoner on the face. In front of him a thin, tall convict, with half his head shaved and dressed in a cloak too short for him and trousers much too short, stood wiping his bleeding face with one hand, and holding a little shrieking girl wrapped in a shawl with the other.
"I'll give it you" (foul abuse); "I'll teach you to reason" (more abuse); "you're to give her to the women!" shouted the officer. "Now, then, on with them."
The convict, who was exiled by the Commune, had been carrying his little daughter all the way from Tomsk, where his wife had died of typhus, and now the officer ordered him to be manacled. The exile's explanation that he could not carry the child if he was manacled irritated the officer, who happened to be in a bad temper, and he gave the troublesome prisoner a beating. Before the injured convict stood a convoy soldier, and a black-bearded prisoner with manacles on one hand and a look of gloom on his face, which he turned now to the officer, now to the prisoner with the little girl.
The officer repeated his orders for the soldiers to take away the girl. The murmur among the prisoners grew louder.
"All the way from Tomsk they were not put on," came a hoarse voice from some one in the rear. "It's a child, and not a puppy."
"What's he to do with the lassie? That's not the law," said some one else.
"Who's that?" shouted the officer as if he had been stung, and rushed into the crowd.
"I'll teach you the law. Who spoke. You? You?"
"Everybody says so, because-" said a short, broad-faced prisoner.
Before he had finished speaking the officer hit him in the face.
"Mutiny, is it? I'll show you what mutiny means. I'll have you all shot like dogs, and the authorities will be only too thankful. Take the girl."
The crowd was silent. One convoy soldier pulled away the girl, who was screaming desperately, while another manacled the prisoner, who now submissively held out his hand.
"Take her to the women," shouted the officer, arranging his sword belt.
The little girl, whose face had grown quite red, was trying to disengage her arms from under the shawl, and screamed unceasingly. Mary Pavlovna stepped out from among the crowd and came up to the officer.
"Will you allow me to carry the little girl?" she said.
"Who are you?" asked the officer.
"A political prisoner."
Mary Pavlovna's handsome face, with the beautiful prominent eyes (he had noticed her before when the prisoners were given into his charge), evidently produced an effect on the officer. He looked at her in silence as if considering, then said: "I don't care; carry her if you like. It is easy for you to show pity; if he ran away who would have to answer?"
"How could he run away with the child in his arms?" said Mary Pavlovna.
"I have no time to talk with you. Take her if you like."
"Shall I give her?" asked the soldier.
"Yes, give her."
"Come to me," said Mary Pavlovna, trying to coax the child to come to her.
But the child in the soldier's arms stretched herself towards her father and continued to scream, and would not go to Mary Pavlovna.
"Wait a bit, Mary Pavlovna," said Maslova, getting a rusk out of her bag; "she will come to me."
The little girl knew Maslova, and when she saw her face and the rusk she let her take her. All was quiet. The gates were opened, and the gang stepped out, the convoy counted the prisoners over again, the bags were packed and tied on to the carts, the weak seated on the top. Maslova with the child in her arms took her place among the women next to Theodosia. Simonson, who had all the time been watching what was going on, stepped with large, determined strides up to the officer, who, having given his orders, was just getting into a trap, and said, "You have behaved badly."
"Get to your place; it is no business of yours."
"It is my business to tell you that you have behaved badly and I have said it," said Simonson, looking intently into the officer's face from under his bushy eyebrows.
"Ready? March!" the officer called out, paying no heed to Simonson, and, taking hold of the driver's shoulder, he got into the trap. The gang started and spread out as it stepped on to the muddy high road with ditches on each side, which passed through a dense forest.
谢基尼娜和玛丝洛娃走到喧闹的地方，看到这样的景象：一个留很长淡黄小一胡一子的强壮军官，皱着眉，左手一揉一着打犯人耳光打痛的右手掌心，嘴里不停地骂着不堪入耳的粗话。他面前站着一个剃一陰一陽一头的瘦长男犯人。这犯人身穿一件短囚袍，下一身穿一条更短的裤子，一只手擦着被打得出一血的脸，另一只手抱着一个尖声啼哭的包围巾的小女孩。
“我要教训教训你这个……”那军官骂了一句粗话，“叫你懂得顶嘴的滋味……”他又骂了一句。“把孩子一交一给婆一娘一们。
快戴上手铐，”他吆喝道。
原来那犯人是个被村社判处流放的农民，他的妻子在托木斯克得伤寒病死了，给他留下了小女儿，他一路上就得抱着她走。押解官下令给他戴上手铐，他说要抱孩子，不能戴手铐。押解官本来就不高兴，一听这话更加火冒十丈，便动手毒打这个违抗命令的犯人。①
--------
①这事在德·阿·李涅夫所著的《押解》一书中有描写。——托尔斯泰注。
对面站着一个押解兵和一个留黑色大一胡一子的男犯。这个男犯一只手戴着手铐，一陰一郁地皱着眉头，一会儿看看押解官，一会儿看看那个挨打的抱孩子犯人。押解官再次命令押解兵把小女孩抱走。犯人们的埋怨声越来越响。
“从托木斯克起从没叫他戴过手铐，”后排里传出一个沙哑的声音。
“又不是狗崽子，是个娃娃呀。”
“叫他拿这小一妞儿怎么办？”
“这样是违反法律的，”另一个人说。
“这话是谁说的？”那押解官仿佛被蛇咬了一口，向人群扑去，嘴里嚷道。“我要让你懂得什么叫法律。是谁说的？是你？是你？”
“大家都在说。因为……”一个矮个儿、阔脸膛的男犯说。
他还没有把话说完，押解官就左右开弓朝他的脸打去。
“你们要造反啦！我要让你们尝尝造反的滋味。我要把你们象狗那样统统毙掉。上级知道还会感谢我呢。把小一妞儿带走！”
人群不再作声。一个押解兵夺下拚命啼哭的小女孩，另一个给顺从地伸出手的犯人戴上手铐。
“把她抱给一娘一们去，”押解官对押解兵嚷道，整了整挂军刀的皮带。
小女孩挣扎着从围巾里伸出小手，不停地尖声啼哭，脸涨得通红。谢基尼娜从人群里出来，走到押解兵跟前。
“军官先生，这娃娃让我来抱吧。”
押解兵抱着小女孩站住了。
“你是什么人？”押解官问。
“我是个政治犯。”
谢基尼娜美丽的脸蛋和她那双好看的金鱼眼睛，显然对押解官起了作用（他在接收犯人时已见过她）。他默默地对她瞧了瞧，仿佛在权衡什么似的。
“我都无所谓，你要，就抱去好了。你可怜他们不要紧，可是万一跑掉一个人，叫谁负责呢？”
“他抱着娃娃怎么跑得掉？”谢基尼娜说。
“我可没工夫跟你们磨嘴皮子。你要，就抱去吧。”
“您说给她吗？”押解兵问。
“给她。”
“你来，到我这儿来！”谢基尼娜召唤着，竭力把小女孩叫到自己身边。
小女孩却从押解兵怀抱里向父亲探过身去，仍旧尖声啼哭，不肯到谢基尼娜那边去。
“您等一下，谢基尼娜，瞧她会到我这儿来的，”玛丝洛娃从口袋里取出一个面包圈，说。
小女孩认得玛丝洛娃，看见她和面包圈，就向她走去。
一场风波就这样过去了。这时大门已打开，犯人们走到门外排好队。押解兵重新清点人数。大家把口袋放到大车上，捆在一起，又让体弱的人上车。玛丝洛娃抱着小女孩，走到女犯队伍里，站在费多霞旁边。西蒙松一直注视着刚刚发生的事，这时大踏步向军官走去。军官刚把事情安排好，准备跳上他的四轮马车。
“您这样做不对，军官先生，”西蒙松说。
“回队伍里去，不关您的事！”
“怎么不关我的事？你们这种做法不对，我就是要说，而且我也说了。”西蒙松紧锁住两道浓眉，盯住押解官的脸说。
“都好了吗？全体注意，起步走，”押解官不理西蒙松，大声喊道，接着按住赶车士兵的肩膀，钻进马车。
队伍动了起来，拉成长长的一串，穿过茂密的树林，沿着两边是沟的坎坷不平的泥泞道路前进。
相关推荐：
