Turgenev read Gerasimov and Mumu. Mu-mu Turgenev read

Illustration by I. I. Pchelko

Very briefly, a cruel lady separates a deaf-mute servant from the woman he loves and forces the dog, his only friend, to be drowned. Having carried out the lady's order, the servant returns to his native village.

On one of the back streets of Moscow, in a house with columns, full of servants, lackeys and hangers-on, lives an old lady-widow. Her daughters got married long ago. The lady herself survives last years secluded.

Her day, joyless and stormy, has long passed; but her evening was blacker than night.

The most noticeable person in the lady's house is the janitor Gerasim, a powerful man, but deaf and dumb from birth. The lady brought him from her village, where Gerasim was considered the best worker. Growing up on the land, Gerasim was homesick for a long time and had difficulty getting used to city life. He fulfills his duties regularly - the surrounding thieves bypass the lady's house. The servants are also afraid of the deaf-mute, but Gerasim does not touch them, he considers them his own. He lives in a separate closet above the kitchen.

A year passes. The lady, who has unlimited power over the servants, decides to marry her shoemaker Kapiton Klimov. The shoemaker is a bitter drunkard, but the lady believes that after the wedding he will settle down. She chooses the timid, downtrodden laundress Tatyana as Kapiton's wife and instructs the butler Gavrila to bring the matter to the wedding.

Gerasim likes Tatyana, a thin and blond twenty-eight-year-old woman. The janitor clumsily looks after her, protects her from ridicule and waits for a new caftan so that he can come to the lady in decent appearance for permission to marry Tatyana.

Gavrila ponders the problem for a long time: the lady favors Gerasim, but what a deaf-mute husband, and the mistress will not change her decision. The “groom” is also afraid of the mighty janitor. The butler secretly hopes that the lady will forget about her whim, as has happened more than once, but his dreams do not come true - the lady asks about the wedding every day.

Finally, Gavrila remembers that Gerasim can’t stand drunks, and comes up with a trick: he persuades Tatyana to pretend to be drunk and walk in front of the janitor. The trick succeeds - Gerasim refuses Tatiana, and she marries Kapiton.

A year passes. Kapiton finally becomes an alcoholic, and the lady sends him and Tatiana to a distant village. Gerasim gives Tatyana a red scarf, bought for her a year ago, and intends to see her off, but turns back halfway.

Returning along the river, Gerasim sees a drowning puppy in the water, catches it and takes it to his closet. The janitor takes care of the little dog, and it turns into “a very nice dog of the Spanish breed, with long ears, a fluffy tail in the shape of a trumpet and large expressive eyes” named Mumu.

She was extremely smart, affectionate towards everyone, but she loved only Gerasim. Gerasim himself loved her madly...

Mumu accompanies the deaf-mute everywhere, guards the yard at night and never barks in vain. The mongrel also loves a smart dog.

A year later, walking around the living room, the lady looks out the window and notices Mumu. That day the lady finds a “happy hour” - she laughs, jokes and demands the same from her hangers-on. They are afraid of the hostess’s mood: “these outbursts did not last long and were usually replaced by a gloomy and sour mood.”

The lady likes Mumu, and she orders her to be brought to her chambers, but the frightened dog cowers in the corner, begins to growl at the old woman and bare her teeth. The lady’s mood quickly deteriorates, and she orders Mumu to be taken away.

What trifles, just think, can sometimes upset a person!

The lady does not sleep all night and is in a gloomy mood, and the next morning she declares that the barking of a dog prevented her from falling asleep and orders her to get rid of Mumu. The lackey sells it for fifty dollars in Okhotny Ryad. Gerasim abandons his duties and looks for Mumu, doesn’t find him, begins to feel sad, and a day later the dog comes to him on her own with a piece of rope around her neck.

Gerasim managed to realize that Mumu had disappeared on the orders of the lady - they told him with gestures about the incident in the master's chambers. He begins to hide the dog, but in vain - at night Mumu barks, the lady throws a tantrum, and Gavrila swears to her that soon the dog “will not be alive.”

The butler goes to Gerasim and with gestures explains to him the lady’s order. Gerasim undertakes its execution himself. Having put on his best caftan, he feeds Mumu heartily in the tavern, then takes a boat and sails out to the middle of the river. Having said goodbye to his only friend, Gerasim ties Mumu’s neck with a rope with bricks tied to it and throws him into the water.

Gerasim heard nothing, neither the quick squeal of the falling Mumu, nor the heavy splash of water; For him, the noisiest day was silent and soundless, just as not even the quietest night is soundless for us.

Returning home, Gerasim quickly packs his things and sets off on foot to his native village. He is in a hurry, “as if his old mother was waiting for him in his homeland, as if she was calling him to her after a long wandering on a foreign side, among strangers.”

Three days later, Gerasim is already in place, and the headman happily receives him. In Moscow they have been looking for Gerasim for a long time. Having discovered the former janitor in the village, the lady wants to write him back, but changes her mind - “she never needs such an ungrateful person.”

Gerasim still lives as a bob in his dilapidated hut, doesn’t even look at women and “doesn’t keep a single dog.”

In one of the remote streets of Moscow, in a gray house with white columns, a mezzanine and a crooked balcony, there once lived a lady, a widow, surrounded by numerous servants. Her sons served in St. Petersburg, her daughters got married; She rarely went out and lived out the last years of her stingy and bored old age in solitude. Her day, joyless and stormy, has long passed; but her evening was blacker than night.
Of all her servants, the most remarkable person was the janitor Gerasim, a man twelve inches tall, built like a hero and deaf-mute from birth. The lady took him from the village, where he lived alone, in a small hut, separately from his brothers, and was considered perhaps the most serviceable draft man. Gifted with extraordinary strength, he worked for four people - the work progressed in his hands, and it was fun to watch him when he plowed and, leaning his huge palms on the plow, seemed to be alone, without help. horse, he tore into the elastic chest of the earth, or on Peter's day he acted so crushingly with his scythe that he could even sweep away a young birch forest from its roots, or he deftly and non-stop threshed with a three-yard flail, and like a lever the elongated and hard muscles of his shoulders lowered and rose. The constant silence gave solemn importance to his tireless work. He was a nice man, and if it weren’t for his misfortune, every girl would willingly marry him... But they brought Gerasim to Moscow, bought him boots, sewed a caftan for the summer, a sheepskin coat for the winter, gave him a broom and a shovel and They assigned him as a janitor.
At first he really didn’t like his new life. Since childhood, he was accustomed to field work and rural life. Alienated by his misfortune from the community of people, he grew up dumb and powerful, like a tree growing on fertile land... Moved to the city, he did not understand what was happening to him, he was bored and perplexed, as a young, healthy bull that had just been they took him from the field, where lush grass grew up to his belly, took him, put him on the carriage railway- and now, showering his corpulent body with smoke and sparks, then with wavy steam, they are rushing him now, rushing him with a knock and a squeal, and God knows where they are rushing! Gerasim's employment in his new position seemed to him a joke after the hard work of the peasants; and after half an hour everything was ready for him, and again he would stop in the middle of the yard and look, with his mouth open, at everyone passing by, as if wanting to get them to solve his mysterious situation, then suddenly he would go somewhere in the corner and, throwing his broom far away and shovel, threw himself face down on the ground and lay motionless on his chest for hours, like a captured animal. But a person gets used to everything, and Gerasim finally got used to city life. He had little to do; His whole duty was to keep the yard clean, bring a barrel of water twice a day, haul and chop firewood for the kitchen and house, keep strangers out, and keep watch at night. And it must be said that he diligently fulfilled his duty: there were never any chips or litter lying around in his yard; if, in a dirty season, a broken water nag given under his command gets stuck somewhere with a barrel, he will only move his shoulder - and not only the cart, but the horse itself will be pushed out of place; Whenever he starts chopping wood, his ax rings like glass, and fragments and logs fly in all directions; and what about strangers, so after one night, having caught two thieves, he hit their foreheads against each other, and hit them so hard that at least he didn’t take them to the police afterwards, everyone in the neighborhood began to respect him very much; Even during the day, those passing by, no longer scammers at all, but simply strangers, at the sight of the formidable janitor, waved them off and shouted at him, as if he could hear their screams. With all the rest of the servants, Gerasim had a relationship that was not exactly friendly - they were afraid of him - but short: he considered them to be his own. They communicated with him by signs, and he understood them, carried out all orders exactly, but he also knew his rights, and no one dared to sit in his place at the capital.

In one of the remote streets of Moscow, in a gray house with white columns, a mezzanine and a crooked balcony, there once lived a lady, a widow, surrounded by numerous servants. Her sons served in St. Petersburg, her daughters got married; She rarely went out and lived out the last years of her stingy and bored old age in solitude. Her day, joyless and stormy, has long passed; but her evening was blacker than night.

Of all her servants, the most remarkable person was the janitor Gerasim, a man twelve inches tall, built like a hero and deaf-mute from birth. The lady took him from the village, where he lived alone, in a small hut, separately from his brothers, and was considered perhaps the most serviceable draft man. Gifted with extraordinary strength, he worked for four people - the work was in his hands, and it was fun to watch him when he was either plowing and, leaning his huge palms on the plow, it seemed that alone, without the help of a horse, he was tearing up the elastic chest of the earth, or about Petrov the day had such a crushing effect with its scythe that it could even sweep away a young birch forest from its roots, or it would deftly and non-stop thresh with a three-yard flail, and like a lever the elongated and hard muscles of his shoulders would lower and rise. The constant silence gave solemn importance to his tireless work. He was a nice man, and if it weren’t for his misfortune, any girl would willingly marry him... But they brought Gerasim to Moscow, bought him boots, sewed a caftan for the summer, a sheepskin coat for the winter, gave him a broom and a shovel and assigned him janitor

At first he really didn’t like his new life. Since childhood, he was accustomed to field work and rural life. Alienated by his misfortune from the community of people, he grew up dumb and powerful, like a tree growing on fertile land... Moved to the city, he did not understand what was happening to him - he was bored and perplexed, as a young, healthy bull that has just been taken is perplexed from the field, where lush grass grew up to his belly, they took him, put him on a railway carriage - and now, showering his corpulent body with smoke and sparks, then with wavy steam, they are now rushing him, rushing with a knock and a squeal, and where are they rushing? news! Gerasim's employment in his new position seemed to him a joke after the hard work of the peasants; and after half an hour everything was ready for him, and again he would stop in the middle of the yard and look, with his mouth open, at everyone passing, as if wanting to get them to solve his mysterious situation, then suddenly he would go somewhere into a corner and, throwing his broom far away and shovel, threw himself face down on the ground and lay motionless on his chest for hours, like a captured animal. But a person gets used to everything, and Gerasim finally got used to city life. He had little to do; His whole duty was to keep the yard clean, bring a barrel of water twice a day, haul and chop firewood for the kitchen and house, keep strangers out, and keep watch at night. And it must be said that he diligently fulfilled his duty: there were never any chips or litter lying around in his yard; if, in a dirty season, a broken water nag given under his command gets stuck somewhere with a barrel, he will only move his shoulder - and not only the cart, but the horse itself will be pushed out of place; Whenever he starts chopping wood, his ax rings like glass, and fragments and logs fly in all directions; and what about strangers, so after one night, having caught two thieves, he hit their foreheads against each other, and hit them so hard that at least he didn’t take them to the police afterwards, everyone in the neighborhood began to respect him very much; Even during the day, those passing by, no longer scammers at all, but simply strangers, at the sight of the formidable janitor, waved them off and shouted at him, as if he could hear their screams. With all the rest of the servants, Gerasim had a relationship that was not exactly friendly - they were afraid of him - but short: he considered them to be his own. They communicated with him by signs, and he understood them, carried out all orders exactly, but he also knew his rights, and no one dared to sit in his place at the capital. In general, Gerasim was of a strict and serious disposition, he loved order in everything; Even the roosters didn’t dare fight in front of him, otherwise there would be trouble! He sees him, immediately grabs him by the legs, spins him ten times in the air like a wheel, and throws him apart. There were also geese in the lady's yard; but the goose is known to be an important and sensible bird; Gerasim felt respect for them, followed them and fed them; he himself looked like a sedate gander. They gave him a closet above the kitchen; he arranged it for himself, according to his own taste: he built a bed in it from oak boards on four blocks, a truly heroic bed; a hundred pounds could have been put on it - it wouldn’t have bent; under the bed there was a hefty chest; in the corner there was a table of the same strong quality, and next to the table there was a chair on three legs, so strong and squat that Gerasim himself used to pick it up, drop it and grin. The closet was locked with a lock that resembled a kalach, only black; Gerasim always carried the key to this lock with him on his belt. He didn't like people to visit him.

So a year passed, at the end of which a small incident happened to Gerasim.

The old lady, with whom he lived as a janitor, followed ancient customs in everything and kept numerous servants: in her house there were not only laundresses, seamstresses, carpenters, tailors and seamstresses - there was even one saddler, he was also considered a veterinarian and doctor for the people, there was a house doctor for the mistress, and finally, there was one shoemaker named Kapiton Klimov, a bitter drunkard. Klimov considered himself a being offended and not appreciated, an educated and metropolitan man, who would not live in Moscow, idle, in some outback, and if he drank, as he himself expressed himself with emphasis and beating his chest, then he drank just out of grief. So one day the lady and her chief butler, Gavrila, were talking about him, a man who, judging by his yellow eyes and duck nose, fate itself seemed to have destined to be the person in charge. The lady regretted the corrupted morality of Kapiton, who had just been found somewhere on the street the day before.

“Well, Gavrila,” she suddenly spoke, “shouldn’t we marry him, what do you think?” Maybe he'll settle down.

- Why not get married, sir! “It’s possible, sir,” answered Gavrila, “and it will be very good, sir.”

- Yes; But who will go for him?

- Of course, sir. However, as you wish, sir. Still, he, so to speak, may be needed for something; you can't throw him out of the top ten.

– It seems he likes Tatyana?

Gavrila wanted to object, but pressed his lips together.

“Yes!.. let him woo Tatyana,” the lady decided, sniffing the tobacco with pleasure, “do you hear?”

“I’m listening, sir,” said Gavrila and left. Returning to his room (it was in a wing and was almost entirely cluttered with forged chests), Gavrila first sent his wife out, and then sat down by the window and thought. The lady's unexpected order apparently puzzled him. Finally he stood up and ordered Capiton to be called. Kapiton appeared... But before we convey their conversation to the readers, we consider it useful to tell in a few words who this Tatyana was, whom Kapiton had to marry, and why the lady’s command confused the butler.

Tatyana, who, as we said above, held the position of laundress (however, as a skilled and learned laundress, she was entrusted with only fine linen), was a woman of about twenty-eight, small, thin, blond, with moles on her left cheek. Moles on the left cheek are considered a bad omen in Rus' - a harbinger of an unhappy life... Tatyana could not boast about her fate. From early youth she was kept in a black body; She worked for two people, but never saw any kindness; they dressed her poorly, she received the smallest salary; It was as if she had no relatives: one old housekeeper, left behind in the village due to unworthiness, was her uncle, and her other uncles were her peasants - that’s all. Ode was once known as a beauty, but her beauty quickly faded away. She was of a very meek disposition, or, better said, intimidated; she felt complete indifference to herself, and was mortally afraid of others; I thought only about how to finish my work on time, never spoke to anyone, and trembled at the mere name of the lady, although she hardly knew her by sight. When Gerasim was brought from the village, she almost froze with horror at the sight of his huge figure, tried in every possible way not to meet him, even squinted her eyes, it happened when she happened to run past him, rushing from the house to the laundry - Gerasim at first did not pay special attention to her attention, then he began to chuckle when he came across her, then he began to look at her, and finally he did not take his eyes off her at all. He fell in love with her; whether it was a meek expression on his face, or timidity in his movements—God knows! One day she was making her way through the yard, carefully lifting her mistress’s starched jacket on her outstretched fingers... someone suddenly grabbed her tightly by the elbow; She turned around and screamed: Gerasim was standing behind her. Laughing stupidly and mooing affectionately, he handed her a gingerbread cockerel with gold leaf on its tail and wings. She wanted to refuse, but he forcibly shoved it right into her hand, shook his head, walked away and, turning around, once again mumbled something very friendly to her. From that day on, he never gave her rest: wherever she went, he was right there, walking towards her, smiling, humming, waving his arms, suddenly pulling out a ribbon from his bosom and handing it to her, sweeping the dust in front of her. will clear. The poor girl simply didn’t know what to do or what to do. Soon the whole house learned about the dumb janitor's tricks; ridicule, jokes, and cutting words rained down on Tatyana. However, not everyone dared to mock Gerasim: he did not like jokes; and they left her alone with him. The Rada is not happy, but the girl came under his protection. Like all deaf-mutes, he was very quick-witted and understood very well when they were laughing at him or her. One day at dinner, the wardrobemaid, Tatyana’s boss, began, as they say, to spank her and got her so angry that she, poor thing, didn’t know where to put her eyes and almost cried with frustration. Gerasim suddenly stood up, extended his huge hand, placed it on the wardrobemaid’s head and looked into her face with such gloomy ferocity that she bent over the table. Everyone fell silent. Gerasim picked up the spoon again and continued to slurp the cabbage soup. “Look, you deaf devil!” “Everyone muttered in a low voice, and the wardrobemaid got up and went to the maid’s room. And then another time, noticing that Kapiton, the same Kapiton about whom we were now talking, was somehow too kindly squabbling with Tatyana, Gerasim called him over with his finger, took him to the carriage house, and, yes, grabbed by the end what stood in the corner drawbar, lightly but meaningfully threatened him with it. Since then, no one has spoken to Tatyana. And he got away with it all. True, the wardrobemaid, as soon as she ran into the maid’s room, immediately fainted and generally acted so skillfully that on the same day she brought Gerasim’s rude act to the attention of the lady; but the whimsical old woman just laughed, several times, to the extreme insult of the wardrobemaid, forced her to repeat how, they say, he bent you down with his heavy hand, and the next day she sent Gerasim a ruble. She favored him as a faithful and strong watchman. Gerasim was quite afraid of her, but still hoped for her mercy and was about to go to her asking if she would allow him to marry Tatyana. He was just waiting for a new caftan, promised to him by the butler, so that he could appear in decent form before the lady, when suddenly this same lady came up with the idea of ​​marrying Tatiana to Kapiton.

The reader will now easily understand the reason for the embarrassment that seized the butler Gavrila after his conversation with his lady. “The lady,” he thought, sitting by the window, “of course, favors Gerasim (Gavrila knew this well, and that’s why he indulged him), yet he is a dumb creature; I can’t tell the lady that Gerasim is supposedly courting Tatyana. And finally, it’s fair, what kind of husband is he? But on the other hand, as soon as this, God forgive me, devil finds out that Tatyana is being given away as Kapiton, he will break everything in the house, by all means. After all, you can’t talk to him; After all, such a devil, I have sinned, a sinner, there is no way to persuade him... really!..”

The appearance of Kapiton interrupted Gavrilin's thread of thoughts. The frivolous shoemaker entered, threw his arms back and, cheekily leaning against the prominent corner of the wall near the door, placed his right foot crosswise in front of his left and shook his head. “Here I am. What do you need?

Gavrila looked at Kapiton and tapped his fingers on the window frame. Kapiton only narrowed his pewter eyes a little, but did not lower them, he even grinned slightly and ran his hand through his whitish hair, which was ruffling in all directions. Well, yes, I say, I am. What are you looking at?

“Good,” said Gavrila and was silent. - Good, nothing to say!

Kapiton just shrugged his shoulders. “And you’re probably better?” – he thought to himself.

“Well, look at yourself, well, look,” Gavrila continued reproachfully, “well, who do you look like?”

Capiton calmly glanced at his worn and tattered frock coat, his patched trousers, with special attention he examined his holey boots, especially the one on the toe of which his right leg rested so smartly, and again stared at the butler.

- What about it?

- What, sir? - Gavrila repeated. - What, sir? You also say: what? You look like the devil, I have sinned, sinner, that’s what you look like.

Kapiton blinked his eyes quickly.

“Swear, swear, swear, Gavrila Andreich,” he thought to himself again.

“After all, you were drunk again,” Gavrila began, “right again?” A? Well, answer me.

“Due to poor health, he was indeed exposed to alcohol,” Kapiton objected.

– Due to poor health!.. You are not punished enough, that’s what; and in St. Petersburg you were still an apprentice... You learned a lot in your apprenticeship. Just eat bread for nothing.

- In this case, Gavrila Andreich, I have only one judge: the Lord God himself - and no one else. He alone knows what kind of person I am in this world and whether I truly eat bread for nothing. As for drunkenness, in this case it’s not me who is to blame, but more than one comrade; He himself deceived me, and even politicized me, he left, that is, and I...

- And you, goose, remained on the street. Oh, you crazy man! Well, that’s not the point,” continued the butler, “but this is what. The lady…” here he paused, “the lady wants you to get married.” Do you hear? They think you'll settle down by getting married. Understand?

- How can you not understand, sir?

- Well, yes. In my opinion, it would be better to get a good grip on you. Well, that's their business. Well? Do you agree?

Kapiton grinned.

– Marriage is a good thing for a person, Gavrila Andreich; and I, for my part, with my very pleasant pleasure.

“Well, yes,” Gavrila objected and thought to himself: “There’s nothing to say, the man says carefully.” “Only this,” he continued aloud, “they found a bad bride for you.”

– Which one, may I ask?..

- Tatyana.

- Tatyana?

And Kapiton widened his eyes and separated from the wall.

- Well, why are you alarmed?.. Don’t you like her?

- Which is not to your liking, Gavrila Andreich! She’s nothing, a worker, a quiet girl... But you know it yourself, Gavrila Andrepch, because he’s the goblin, the kikimora of the steppe, because he’s behind her...

“I know, brother, I know everything,” the butler interrupted him with annoyance. - yes, after all...

- For mercy's sake, Gavrila Andreich! After all, he will kill me, by God he will kill me, like swatting some fly; after all, he has a hand, after all, if you please see for yourself what kind of hand he has; after all, he simply has Minin and Pozharsky’s hand. After all, he, deaf, hits and does not hear how he hits! It’s like he’s waving his fists in a dream. And there is no way to calm him down; Why? because, you yourself know, Gavrila Andreich, he is deaf and, on top of that, stupid as a heel. After all, this is some kind of beast, an idol, Gavrila Andreich - worse than an idol... some kind of aspen: why should I now suffer from it? Of course, now I don’t care about everything: a man held out, endured, oiled himself like a Kolomna pot - still, I am, however, a person, and not some, in fact, insignificant pot.

- I know, I know, don’t describe it...

- Oh my God! - the shoemaker continued passionately, - when will it end? when, Lord! I am a wretched man, an endless wretched man! Fate, my fate, just think! In my younger years I was beaten by a German master, in the best moment of my life I was beaten by my own brother, and finally in my mature years this is what I have achieved...

“Oh, you filthy soul,” said Gavrila. – Why are you spreading the word, really!

- Why, Gavrila Andreich! It's not beatings that I'm afraid of, Gavrila Andreich. Punish me, lord within the walls, and give me a greeting in front of people, and I’m all among the people, but here, from whom do I have to...

“Well, get out,” Gavrila interrupted him impatiently. Kapiton turned away and trudged out.

“Suppose he weren’t there,” the butler shouted after him, “do you agree?”

“I express it,” Kapiton objected and left. Eloquence did not leave him even in extreme cases. The butler walked around the room several times.

“Well, now call Tatyana,” he finally said. A few moments later, Tatyana entered, barely audibly, and stopped at the threshold.

- What do you order, Gavrila Andreich? – she said in a quiet voice.

The butler looked at her intently.

“Well,” he said, “Tanyusha, do you want to get married?” The lady has found a groom for you.

- I’m listening, Gavrila Andreich. And who are they appointing as my groom? – she added hesitantly.

- Capiton, shoemaker.

- I’m listening, sir.

“He’s a frivolous person, that’s for sure.” But in this case, the lady is counting on you.

- I’m listening, sir.

- One problem... after all, this capercaillie, Garaska, is looking after you. And how did you charm this bear to you? But he will probably kill you, such a bear...

- He will kill, Gavrila Andreich, he will certainly kill.

– He’ll kill... Well, we’ll see. How do you say: he will kill! Does he have the right to kill you, judge for yourself.

- I don’t know, Gavrila Andreich, whether he has it or not.

- What a hell! After all, you didn’t promise him anything...

- What do you want, sir?

The butler paused and thought:

“You unrequited soul!” “Well, okay,” he added, “we’ll talk to you later, but now go, Tanyusha; I see you are definitely humble.

Tatyana turned, leaned lightly on the ceiling and left.

“Or maybe the lady will forget about this wedding tomorrow,” the butler thought, “why am I worried? We'll twist this mischievous guy; If we let the police know anything..."

- Ustinya Fedorovna! - he shouted in a loud voice to his wife, - put on the samovar, my venerable...

Tatyana did not leave the laundry room almost all that day. At first she cried, then she wiped away her tears and went back to work. Kapiton sat in the establishment until late at night with some gloomy-looking friend and told him in detail how he lived in St. Petersburg with a gentleman who would have taken everything, but he was observant of the rules and, moreover, made one slight mistake: he took a lot of hops, and as for the female sex, he simply reached all the qualities... The gloomy comrade only assented; but when Kapiton finally announced that, on one occasion, he must lay hands on himself tomorrow, the gloomy comrade remarked that it was time to sleep. And they parted rudely and silently.

Meanwhile, the butler's expectations did not come true. The lady was so preoccupied with the thought of Kapiton’s wedding that even at night she only talked about it with one of her companions, who stayed in her house only in case of insomnia and, like a night cab driver, slept during the day. When Gavrila came to her after tea with a report, her first question was: how is our wedding going? He, of course, replied that everything was going as well as possible and that Kapiton would come to her today with a bow. The lady was feeling unwell; She did not take care of business for long. The butler returned to his room and called a council. The matter definitely required special discussion. Tatyana did not argue, of course; but Kapiton declared publicly that he had one head, and not two or three... Gerasim looked sternly and quickly at everyone, did not leave the maiden porch and seemed to guess that something bad was afoot for him. Those gathered (among them there was an old barman, nicknamed Uncle Tail, to whom everyone respectfully turned for advice, although all they heard from him was that: this is how it is, yes: yes, yes, yes) began with the fact that, just in case, for safety, they locked Kapiton in a closet with a water purification machine and began to think deeply. Of course, it would have been easy to resort to force; but God forbid! there will be noise, the lady will be worried - trouble! What should I do? We thought and thought and finally came up with something. It was repeatedly noted that Gerasim could not stand drunkards... Sitting outside the gate, he would turn away indignantly every time when some loaded man walked past him with unsteady steps and with the visor of his cap on his ear. They decided to teach Tatyana so that she would pretend to be drunk and walk, staggering and swaying, past Gerasim. The poor girl did not agree for a long time, but she was persuaded; Moreover, she herself saw that otherwise she would not get rid of her admirer. She went. Kapiton was released from the closet: the matter concerned him after all. Gerasim was sitting on the bedside table by the gate and poking a shovel into the ground... People were looking at him from all corners, from under the curtains outside the windows...

The trick was a success. Seeing Tatyana, he first, as usual, nodded his head with a gentle moo; then he took a closer look, dropped the shovel, jumped up, walked up to her, brought his face close to her face... She staggered even more in fear and closed her eyes... He grabbed her hand, rushed across the entire yard and, entering with her into the room where he was sitting advice, pushed her straight to Capito. Tatyana just froze... Gerasim stood, looked at her, waved his hand, grinned and walked, stepping heavily, into his closet... He didn’t come out of there for a whole day. Postilion Antipka later said that through a crack he saw how Gerasim, sitting on the bed, putting his hand to his cheek, sang quietly, measuredly and only occasionally mooing, that is, he swayed, closed his eyes and shook his head, like coachmen or barge haulers when they draw out their mournful songs. Antipka felt terrified, and he moved away from the crack. When Gerasim came out of the closet the next day, no particular change could be noticed in him. He only seemed to become more gloomy, but did not pay the slightest attention to Tatyana and Kapiton. That same evening, both of them, with geese under their arms, went to the lady and got married a week later. On the very day of the wedding, Gerasim did not change his behavior in any way; Only he arrived from the river without water: he somehow broke a barrel on the road; and at night, in the stable, he cleaned and rubbed his horse so diligently that it staggered like a blade of grass in the wind and swayed from foot to foot under his iron fists.

All this happened in the spring. Another year passed, during which Kapiton finally became an alcoholic and, as a decidedly worthless person, was sent with a convoy to a distant village, along with his wife. On the day of departure, at first he was very brave and assured that no matter where they sent him, even to where the women washed their shirts and put rollers on the sky, he would not be lost; but then he lost heart, began to complain that he was being taken to uneducated people, and finally became so weak that he could not even put on his own hat; some compassionate soul pulled it over his forehead, adjusted the visor and slammed it on top. When everything was ready and the men already held the reins in their hands and were only waiting for the words: “With God!”, Gerasim came out of his closet, approached Tatyana and gave her a red paper handkerchief, which he had bought for her a year ago, as a souvenir. . Tatyana, who until that moment had endured all the vicissitudes of her life with great indifference, here, however, could not stand it, burst into tears and, getting into the cart, kissed Gerasim three times in a Christian manner. He wanted to accompany her to the outpost and first walked next to her cart, but suddenly stopped at the Crimean Brod, waved his hand and set off along the river.

It was late in the evening. He walked quietly and looked at the water. Suddenly it seemed to him that something was floundering in the mud near the shore. He bent down and saw a small puppy, white with black spots, who, despite all his efforts, could not get out of the water; he struggled, slid and trembled with his entire wet and thin body. Gerasim looked at the unfortunate little dog, picked it up with one hand, put it in his bosom and took long steps home. He entered his closet, laid the rescued puppy on the bed, covered him with his heavy overcoat, and ran first to the stable for straw, then to the kitchen for a cup of milk. Carefully throwing back his coat and spreading out the straw, he placed the milk on the bed. The poor little dog was only three weeks old, her eyes had recently opened; one eye even seemed a little larger than the other; She did not yet know how to drink from a cup and only trembled and squinted. Gerasim lightly took her head with two fingers and bent her muzzle towards the milk. The dog suddenly began to drink greedily, snorting, shaking and choking. Gerasim looked and watched and suddenly laughed... All night he fussed with her, laid her down, dried her, and finally fell asleep next to her in some kind of joyful and quiet sleep.

No mother cares for her child as much as Gerasim looked after his pet. (The dog turned out to be a bitch.) At first she was very weak, frail and ugly, but little by little she got over it and straightened out, and after eight months, thanks to the constant care of her savior, she turned into a very nice dog of the Spanish breed, with long ears, a bushy tail the shape of a pipe and large expressive eyes. She became passionately attached to Gerasim and did not lag behind him a single step, she kept following him, wagging her tail. He also gave her a nickname - dumb people know that their mooing attracts the attention of others - he called her Mumu. All the people in the house loved her and also called her Mumunei. She was extremely smart, affectionate towards everyone, but she loved only Gerasim. Gerasim himself loved her madly... and it was unpleasant for him when others stroked her: he was afraid, perhaps, for her, whether he was jealous of her, God knows! She woke him up in the morning, pulling him by the floor, brought to him by the reins an old water carrier, with whom she lived in great friendship, with an important look on her face she went with him to the river, guarded his brooms and shovels, and did not let anyone near his closet. He deliberately cut a hole in his door for her, and she seemed to feel that only in Gerasim’s closet she was a complete mistress, and therefore, upon entering it, she immediately jumped onto the bed with a contented look. At night she did not sleep at all, but did not bark indiscriminately, like some stupid mongrel who, sitting on hind legs and raising his muzzle and closing his eyes, he barks simply out of boredom, like that, at the stars, and usually three times in a row - no! Mumu's thin voice was never heard in vain: either a stranger came close to the fence, or somewhere there was a suspicious noise or rustling... In a word, she was an excellent guard. True, besides her, there was also an old dog in the yard yellow color, with brown speckles, named Volchok, but he was never let off the chain, even at night, and he himself, due to his decrepitude, did not at all demand freedom - he lay curled up in his kennel and only occasionally let out a hoarse, almost a soundless bark, which immediately stopped, as if he himself felt all its uselessness. Mumu didn’t go to the manor’s house, and when Gerasim carried firewood into the rooms, she always stayed back and waited impatiently for him at the porch, with her ears pricked up and her head turning first to the right, then suddenly to the left, at the slightest knock on the door...

So another year passed. Gerasim continued his work as a janitor and was very pleased with his fate, when suddenly one unexpected circumstance occurred, namely: one fine summer day the lady with her hangers-on was walking around the living room. She was in good spirits, laughing and joking; the hangers-on laughed and joked too, but they didn’t feel any particular joy: they didn’t really like it in the house when the lady had a happy hour, because, firstly, she then demanded everyone’s immediate and complete sympathy and got angry if anyone Her face did not shine with pleasure, and secondly, these outbursts did not last long and were usually replaced by a gloomy and sour mood. That day she somehow got up happily; the cards showed her four jacks: wish fulfillment (she always used to tell fortunes in the morning) - and the tea seemed especially tasty to her, for which the maid received verbal praise and a ten-kopeck piece of money. With a sweet smile on her wrinkled lips, the lady walked around the living room and approached the window. There was a front garden in front of the window, and in the middle flowerbed, under a rose bush, Mumu lay carefully gnawing on a bone. The lady saw her.

- My God! - she suddenly exclaimed, “what kind of dog is this?”

The hanger-on, to whom the lady turned, rushed about, poor thing, with that melancholy anxiety that usually takes possession of a subordinate person when he does not yet know well how to understand the exclamation of his boss.

“I... I don’t know, sir,” she muttered, “it seems dumb.”

- My God! - the lady interrupted, - she’s a pretty little dog! Tell her to be brought. How long has he had it? How come I haven’t seen her before?.. Tell her to be brought.

The hanger-on immediately fluttered into the hallway.

- Man, man! - she shouted, “bring Mumu quickly!” She's in the front garden.

“And her name is Mumu,” said the lady, “a very good name.”

- Oh, very much! - the hanger-on objected. - Hurry, Stepan!

Stepan, a burly guy who held the position of footman, rushed headlong into the front garden and wanted to grab Mumu, but she deftly wriggled out from under his fingers and, raising her tail, ran at full speed towards Gerasim, who at that time was beating out and shook out the barrel, turning it over in his hands like a child's drum. Stepan ran after her and began to catch her at the very feet of her owner; but the nimble dog did not give in to the hands of a stranger, it jumped and dodged. Gerasim looked with a grin at all this fuss; Finally, Stepan stood up with annoyance and hastily explained to him with signs that the lady, they say, demands your dog to come to her. Gerasim was a little surprised, but he called Mumu, picked her up from the ground and handed her over to Stepan. Stepan brought it into the living room and placed it on the parquet floor. The lady began to call her to her in a gentle voice. Mumu, who had never been in such magnificent chambers in her life, was very frightened and rushed to the door, but, pushed away by the obliging Stepan, she trembled and pressed herself against the wall.

“Mumu, Mumu, come to me, come to the lady,” said the lady, “come, silly... don’t be afraid...”

“Come, come, Mumu, to the lady,” the hangers-on repeated, “come.”

But Mumu looked around sadly and did not move from her place.

“Bring her something to eat,” said the lady. - How stupid she is! does not go to the lady. What is he afraid of?

“They’re not used to it yet,” said one of the hangers-on in a timid and touching voice.

Stepan brought a saucer of milk and placed it in front of Mumu, but Mumu didn’t even smell the milk and kept trembling and looking around as before.

- Oh, what are you like! - said the lady, approaching her, bent down and wanted to stroke her, but Mumu convulsively turned her head and bared her teeth. The lady quickly pulled her hand back...

There was a moment's silence. Mumu squealed weakly, as if complaining and apologizing... The lady walked away and frowned. The sudden movement of the dog startled her.

- Ah! - all the hangers-on shouted at once, - did she bite you, God forbid! (Mumu has never bitten anyone in her life.) Ah, ah!

“Take her out,” the old woman said in a changed voice. - Bad dog! how evil she is!

And, slowly turning around, she headed to her office. The hangers-on timidly looked at each other and started to follow her, but she stopped, looked at them coldly, and said: “Why is this? I’m not calling you,” and she left. The hangers-on desperately waved their hands at Stepan; he picked up Mumu and quickly threw her out the door, right at Gerasim’s feet - and half an hour later a deep silence reigned in the house and the old lady sat on her sofa gloomier than a thundercloud.

What trifles, just think, can sometimes upset a person!

Until the evening the lady was not in a good mood, did not talk to anyone, did not play cards, and had a bad night. She got it into her head that the cologne they served her was not the one they usually served, that her pillow smelled of soap, and made the wardrobe maid smell all her linen - in a word, she was worried and “hot” very much. The next morning she ordered Gaarila to be called an hour earlier than usual.

“Tell me, please,” she began, as soon as he, not without some internal babbling, crossed the threshold of her office, “what kind of dog was that in our yard barking all night?” Didn't let me sleep!

“A dog, sir... some kind of sir... maybe a dumb dog, sir,” he said in a not entirely firm voice.

“I don’t know if it was dumb or someone else, but she didn’t let me sleep.” Yes, I’m surprised why there are so many dogs! I want to know. After all, we have a yard dog?

- Of course, sir, yes, sir. Volchok, sir.

- Well, what else, what else do we need a dog for? Just start some riots. The eldest is not in the house - that's what. And what does a mute need a dog for? Who allowed him to keep dogs in my yard? Yesterday I went to the window, and she was lying in the front garden, she had brought some kind of abomination, gnawing - and I had roses planted there...

The lady was silent.

– So that she’s not here today... do you hear?

- I’m listening, sir.

- Today. Now go. I’ll call you to report later.

Gavrila left.

Passing through the living room, the butler, for the sake of order, moved the bell from one table to another, secretly blew his duck nose in the hall and went out into the hall. In the hall, Stepan was sleeping on a bunk, in the position of a killed warrior in a battle painting, his bare legs frantically stretched out from under his frock coat, which served him as a blanket. The butler pushed him aside and in a low voice told him some order, to which Stepan responded with a half-yawn, half-laugh. The butler left, and Stepan jumped up, pulled on his caftan and boots, went out and stopped at the porch. Less than five minutes passed when Gerasim appeared with a huge bundle of firewood on his back, accompanied by the inseparable Mumu. (The lady ordered her bedroom and office to be heated even in the summer.) Gerasim stood sideways in front of the door, pushed it with his shoulder and burst into the house with his burden. Mumu, as usual, remained to wait for him. Then Stepan, seizing an opportune moment, suddenly rushed at her like a kite at a chicken, crushed her with his chest to the ground, grabbed her in his arms and, without even putting on a cap, ran out with her into the yard, sat on the first cab he came across and galloped off to Okhotny Ryad. There he soon found a buyer, to whom he sold her for fifty dollars, with the sole condition that he would keep her on a leash for at least a week, and returned immediately; but, before reaching the house, he got off the cab and, going around the yard, from the back alley, jumped over the fence into the yard; He was afraid to go through the gate, lest he meet Gerasim.

However, his concern was in vain: Gerasim was no longer in the yard. Leaving the house, he immediately missed Mumu; He still didn’t remember that she would never wait for his return, he began to run everywhere, looking for her, calling her in his own way... he rushed into his closet, into the hayloft, rushed out into the street, back and forth... She disappeared! He turned to the people, asked about her with the most desperate signs, pointing half an arshin from the ground, drew her with his hands... Some didn’t know exactly where Mumu had gone and just shook their heads, others knew and laughed at him in response, but the butler accepted looked extremely important and began to shout at the coachmen. Then Gerasim ran away from the yard.

It was already getting dark when he returned. From his exhausted appearance, from his unsteady gait, from his dusty clothes, one could assume that he had managed to run around half of Moscow. He stopped in front of the master's windows, looked around the porch, on which seven courtyard people were crowded, turned away and muttered again: “Mumu!” – Mumu did not respond. He walked away. Everyone looked after him, but no one smiled, did not say a word... and the curious postilion Antipka told the next morning in the kitchen that the mute had been groaning all night.

The whole next day Gerasim did not show up, so the coachman Potap had to go get water instead, which the coachman Potap was very dissatisfied with. The lady asked Gavrila whether her order had been carried out. Gavrila replied that it was done. The next morning Gerasim left his closet to go to work. He came to dinner, ate and left again without bowing to anyone. His face, already lifeless, like that of all deaf-mutes, now seemed to have turned to stone. After lunch he left the yard again, but not for long; he returned and immediately went to the hayloft. The night came, moonlit, clear. Sighing heavily and constantly turning around, Gerasim lay and suddenly felt as if he were being pulled by the floor; he trembled all over, but did not raise his head, even closed his eyes; but then they pulled him again, stronger than before; he jumped up... in front of him, with a piece of paper around her neck, Mumu was spinning. A long cry of joy burst from his silent chest; he grabbed Mumu and squeezed her in his arms; in an instant she licked his nose, eyes, mustache and beard... He stood, thought, carefully climbed down from the hay, looked around and, making sure that no one would see him, safely made his way into his closet - Gerasim had already guessed that the dog had not disappeared it goes without saying that she must have been brought together on the orders of the lady; people explained to him with signs how his Mumu had snapped at her, and he decided to take his own measures. First he fed Mumu some bread, caressed her, put her to bed, then he began to think, and spent the whole night thinking about how best to hide her. Finally, he came up with the idea of ​​leaving her in the closet all day and only visiting her occasionally, and taking her out at night. He tightly plugged the hole in the door with his old overcoat and as soon as it was light he was already in the yard, as if nothing had happened, even retaining (innocent cunning!) the former despondency on his face. It could not have occurred to the poor deaf man that Mumu would give himself away with his squealing: indeed, everyone in the house soon learned that the mute dog had returned and was locked up with him, but, out of pity for him and her, and partly, perhaps, out of fear of him, they did not let him know that they had discovered his secret. The butler scratched the back of his head and waved his hand. “Well, they say, God bless him! Maybe it won’t reach the lady!” But the mute had never been as zealous as he was that day: he cleaned and scrubbed the entire yard, weeded out every last weed, with his own hands he pulled out all the pegs in the front garden fence to make sure they were strong enough, and then he hammered them in - in a word, he fiddled and he worked so hard that even the lady paid attention to his zeal. During the day, Gerasim secretly went to see his recluse twice; when night came, he went to sleep with her in the closet, and not in the hayloft, and only in the second hour did he go out for a walk with her clean air. After walking around the yard with her for quite some time, he was about to return, when suddenly a rustling sound was heard behind the fence, from the side of the alley. Mumu pricked up her ears, growled, walked up to the fence, sniffed and began to bark loudly and piercingly. Some drunken man decided to nest there for the night. At this very time, the lady had just fallen asleep after a long period of “nervous excitement”: these worries always happened to her after a too rich dinner. A sudden barking woke her up; her heart began to beat and froze. “Girls, girls! – she moaned. “Girls!” The frightened girls jumped into her bedroom. “Oh, oh, I’m dying! – she said, waving her hands sadly. - Again, again this dog!.. Oh, send for the doctor. They want to kill me... Dog, dog again! Oh!" - and she threw her head back, which should have meant fainting. They rushed to get the doctor, that is, the house doctor Khariton. This doctor, whose whole art consisted in the fact that he wore boots with soft soles, knew how to delicately take the pulse, slept fourteen hours a day, and the rest of the time sighed and constantly regaled the lady with laurel-cherry drops - this doctor immediately came running and smoked burnt feathers and, when the lady opened her eyes, he immediately brought her a glass with the treasured drops on a silver tray. The lady accepted them, but immediately in a tearful voice began to complain again about the dog, about Gavrila, about her fate, about the fact that everyone had abandoned her, a poor old woman, that no one was sorry for her, that everyone wanted her dead. Meanwhile, the unfortunate Mumu continued to bark, and Gerasim tried in vain to call her away from the fence. “Here... here... again...” the lady stammered and again rolled her eyes under her forehead. The doctor whispered to the girl, she rushed into the hallway, pushed Stepan, he ran to wake up Gavrila, Gavrila rashly ordered the whole house to be raised.

Gerasim turned around, saw flashing lights and shadows in the windows and, sensing trouble in his heart, grabbed Mumu under the arm, ran into the closet and locked himself. A few moments later, five people were banging on his door, but, feeling the resistance of the bolt, they stopped. Gavrila came running in a terrible hurry, ordered them all to stay here until the morning and keep watch, and then he rushed into the girls' room and through the senior companion Lyubov Lyubimovna, with whom he stole and counted tea, sugar and other groceries, ordered to report to the lady that the dog, to misfortune, she came running from somewhere again, but that tomorrow she would not be alive and that the lady would do a favor, not be angry and calm down. The lady probably would not have calmed down so quickly, but the doctor hastily poured forty instead of twelve drops: the power of the cherry laurel worked - after a quarter of an hour the lady was already resting soundly and peacefully; and Gerasim lay, all pale, on his bed - and tightly squeezed Mumu’s mouth.

The next morning the lady woke up quite late. Gavrila was waiting for her to awaken in order to give the order for a decisive attack on the Gerasimov shelter, and he himself was preparing to withstand a strong thunderstorm. But there was no thunderstorm. Lying in bed, the lady ordered to call the eldest hanger-on.

“Lyubov Lyubimovna,” she began in a quiet and weak voice; she sometimes liked to pretend to be a downtrodden and lonely sufferer; there is no need to say that all the people in the house then felt very awkward, - Lyubov Lyubimovna, you see what my position is: go, my soul, to Gavrila Andreich, talk to him: is some little dog really more valuable to him than peace of mind, life itself his ladies? “I wouldn’t want to believe this,” she added with an expression of deep feeling, “come, my soul, be so kind as to go to Gavrila Andreich.”

Lyubov Lyubimovna went to Gavrilin’s room. It is unknown what their conversation was about; but after some time a whole crowd of people moved across the courtyard in the direction of Gerasim’s closet: Gavrila stepped forward, holding his cap with his hand, although there was no wind; footmen and cooks walked around him; Uncle Tail looked out of the window and gave orders, that is, he just threw up his hands; Behind everyone, boys were jumping and making faces, half of whom were strangers. On the narrow staircase leading to the closet, there was one guard sitting; there were two others standing by the door, with sticks. They began to climb the stairs and occupied its entire length. Gavrila went up to the door, knocked on it with his fist, and shouted:

- Open it.

A muffled bark was heard; but there was no answer.

- They say open it! - he repeated.

“Yes, Gavrila Andreich,” Stepan noted from below, “after all, he is deaf and cannot hear.” All. laughed.

- How to be? – Gavrila objected from above.

“And he has a hole in the door,” answered Stepan, “so you move the stick.” Gavrila bent down.

“He plugged the hole with some kind of overcoat.”

- And you push the army coat inside. Here again a dull bark was heard.

“Look, see, it tells itself,” they noticed in the crowd and laughed again.

Gavrila scratched behind his ear.

“No, brother,” he continued at last, “you push through the Armenian yourself if you want.”

- Well, if you please!

And Stepan climbed up, took a stick, stuck his coat inside and began dangling the stick in the hole, saying: “Come out, come out!” He was still swinging the stick, when suddenly the closet door quickly swung open - all the servants immediately rolled head over heels down the stairs, Gavrila first of all. Uncle Tail locked the window.

“Well, well, well, well,” Gavrila shouted from the yard, “look at me, look!”

Gerasim stood motionless on the threshold. A crowd gathered at the foot of the stairs. Gerasim looked at all these little people in German caftans from above, his hands lightly resting on his hips; in his red peasant shirt he seemed like some kind of giant in front of them, Gavrila took a step forward.

“Look, brother,” he said, “don’t be mischievous with me.” And he began to explain to him with signs that the lady, they say, certainly demands your dog: give it to him now, otherwise you will be in trouble.

Gerasim looked at him, pointed to the dog, made a sign with his hand at his neck, as if tightening a noose, and looked at the butler with a questioning face.

“Yes, yes,” he objected, nodding his head, “yes, certainly.” Gerasim lowered his eyes, then suddenly shook himself, again pointed at Mumu, who stood near him all the time, innocently wagging her tail and moving her ears with curiosity, repeated the sign of strangulation over his neck and significantly hit himself in the chest, as if announcing that he himself was taking take it upon yourself to destroy Mumu.

“You’re deceiving me,” Gavrila waved back at him. Gerasim looked at him, grinned contemptuously, hit himself in the chest again and slammed the door. Everyone looked at each other silently.

- What does this mean? - Gavrila began. “Has he locked himself in?”

“Leave him, Gavrila Andreich,” said Stepan, “he will do what he promised.” That's how he is... If he promises, it's certain. He's not like our brother. What's true is true. Yes.

“Yes,” they all repeated and shook their heads. - This is true. Yes.

Uncle Tail opened the window and also said: “Yes.”

“Well, perhaps we’ll see,” Gavrila objected, “but we still won’t remove the guard.” Hey you, Eroshka! - he added, turning to a pale man in a yellow nankeen Cossack, who was considered a gardener, - what should you do? Take a stick and sit here, and immediately run to me!

Eroshka took the stick and sat down on the last step of the stairs. The crowd dispersed, except for a few curious people and boys, and Gavrila returned home and, through Lyubov Lyubimovna, ordered the mistress to report that everything had been done, and he himself, just in case, sent a postilion to the guest. The lady tied a knot in her handkerchief, poured cologne on it, sniffed it, rubbed her temples, drank some tea and, still under the influence of the cherry laurel drops, fell asleep again.

An hour later, after all this alarm, the closet door opened and Gerasim appeared. He was wearing a festive caftan; he led Mumu on a string. “Eroshka stepped aside and let him pass. Gerasim headed towards the gate. The boys and everyone in the yard followed him with their eyes, silently. He didn’t even turn around: he only put on his hat on the street. Gavrila sent the same Eroshka after him as an observer. Eroshka saw from a distance that he entered the tavern with the dog, and began to wait for him to come out.

They knew Gerasim at the tavern and understood his signs. He asked for cabbage soup with meat and sat down, leaning his hands on the table. Mumu stood next to his chair, calmly looking at him with her intelligent eyes. Her fur was so shiny: it was clear that it had recently been combed. They brought cabbage soup to Gerasim. He crumbled some bread into it, finely chopped the meat and placed the plate on the floor. Mumu began to eat with her usual politeness, barely touching her muzzle before eating. Gerasim looked at her for a long time; two heavy tears suddenly rolled out of his eyes: one fell onto the dog’s steep forehead, the other into the cabbage soup. He shaded his face with his hand. Mumu ate half a plate and walked away, licking her lips. Gerasim got up, paid for the cabbage soup and walked out, accompanied by a somewhat perplexed look from the policeman. Eroshka, seeing Gerasim, jumped around the corner and, letting him pass, went after him again.

Gerasim walked slowly and did not let Mumu off the rope. Having reached the corner of the street, he stopped, as if in thought, and suddenly with quick steps he went straight to the Crimean Brod. On the road, he went into the courtyard of a house to which an outbuilding was attached, and carried out two bricks under his arm. From the Crimean Brod he turned along the shore, reached a place where there were two boats with oars tied to pegs (he had already noticed them before), and jumped into one of them together with Mumu. A lame old man came out from behind a hut erected in the corner of the garden and shouted at him. But Gerasim only nodded his head and began rowing so hard, albeit against the flow of the river, that in an instant he rushed a hundred fathoms. The old man stood, stood, scratched his back, first with his left hand, then with his right hand, and returned, limping, to the hut.

And Gerasim rowed and rowed. Now Moscow is left behind. Meadows, vegetable gardens, fields, groves have already stretched along the banks, and huts have appeared. There was a whiff of the village. He dropped the oars, leaned his head against Mumu, who was sitting in front of him on a dry crossbar - the bottom was flooded with water - and remained motionless, crossing his powerful arms on her back, while the boat was gradually carried back to the city by the wave. Finally, Gerasim straightened up, hurriedly, with some kind of painful anger on his face, wrapped a rope around the bricks he had taken, attached a noose, put it around Mumu’s neck, raised her above the river, looked at her for the last time... She looked at him trustingly and without fear and waved her tail slightly. He turned away, closed his eyes and unclenched his hands... Gerasim heard nothing, neither the quick squeal of the falling Mumu, nor the heavy splash of water; for him, the noisiest day was silent and soundless, just as not even the quietest night is silent for us, and when he opened his eyes again, small waves were still hurrying along the river, as if chasing each other, they were still splashing against the sides of the boat, and only some wide circles scattered far back and towards the shore.

Eroshka, as soon as Gerasim was out of sight, returned home and reported everything he had seen.

“Well, yes,” Stepan noted, “he’ll drown her.” You can be calm. If he promised anything...

During the day no one saw Gerasim. He didn't have lunch at home. Evening came; Everyone gathered for dinner except him.

- What a wonderful Gerasim! - the fat washerwoman squeaked, - is it possible to get dirty like that because of a dog!.. Really!

“Yes, Gerasim was here,” Stepan suddenly exclaimed, scooping up a spoonful of porridge.

- How? When?

- Yes, about two hours ago. Of course. I met him at the gate; he was already walking away from here again, leaving the yard. I wanted to ask him about the dog, but he was obviously not in a good mood. Well, he pushed me; He must have just wanted to put me off, saying, don’t pester me, but he brought such an extraordinary bream to my veins, it’s so important that oh-oh-oh! – And Stepan, with an involuntary grin, shrugged and rubbed the back of his head. “Yes,” he added, “he has a hand, a gracious hand, there’s nothing to say.”

Everyone laughed at Stepan and after dinner went to bed.

Meanwhile, at that very time, some giant was striding diligently and non-stop along the T... highway, with a sack over his shoulders and a long stick in his hands. It was Gerasim. He hurried without looking back, hurried home, to his village, to his homeland. Having drowned poor Mumu, he ran to his closet, quickly packed some belongings into an old blanket, tied it in a knot, slung it over his shoulder, and was off. He noticed the road well even when he was being taken to Moscow; the village from which the lady took him lay only twenty-five miles from the highway. He walked along it with some kind of indestructible courage, with desperate and at the same time joyful determination. He was walking; his chest opened wide; the eyes greedily and directly rushed forward. He was in a hurry, as if his old mother was waiting for him in his homeland, as if she was calling him to her after a long wandering on a foreign side, in strange people... The day that had just arrived summer night was quiet and warm; on the one hand, where the sun had set, the edge of the sky was still white and faintly reddened by the last glow of the disappearing day; on the other hand, a blue, gray twilight was already rising. The night went on from there. Hundreds of quails thundered all around, corncrakes called to each other... Gerasim could not hear them, nor could he hear the sensitive night whispering of the trees, past which his strong legs carried him, but he felt the familiar smell of ripening rye, which was wafting from the dark fields, he felt like the wind flying towards him - the wind from his homeland - gently hit his face, played in his hair and beard; I saw a white road in front of me - the road home, straight as an arrow; he saw in the sky countless stars illuminating his path, and like a lion he stood out strong and cheerfully, so that when the rising sun illuminated the young man who had just departed with its wet-red rays, already thirty-five miles lay between Moscow and him...

Two days later he was already at home, in his hut, to the great amazement of the soldier who was placed there. Having prayed before the images, he immediately went to the elder. The headman was surprised at first; but the haymaking had just begun: Gerasim, as an excellent worker, was immediately given a scythe in his hands - and he went to mow in the old-fashioned way, to mow in such a way that the peasants just got chills, looking at his sweep and rakes...

And in Moscow, the day after Gerasim’s escape, they missed him. They went to his closet, ransacked it, and told Gavrila. He came, looked, shrugged his shoulders and decided that the mute either fled or drowned along with his stupid dog. They let the police know and reported to the lady. The lady was angry, burst into tears, ordered him to be found at all costs, assured that she had never ordered the dog to be destroyed, and, finally, she scolded Gavrila so much that he just shook his head all day and said: “Well!” - until Uncle Tail reasoned with him, telling him: “Well!” Finally, news came from the village that Gerasim had arrived there. The lady calmed down somewhat; At first she gave the order to immediately demand him back to Moscow, then, however, she announced that she did not need such an ungrateful person at all. However, she herself died soon after; and her heirs had no time for Gerasim: they also dismissed the rest of her mother’s people on rent.

And Gerasim still lives as a bob in his lonely hut; healthy and powerful as before, and works for four as before, and is still important and sedate. But the neighbors noticed that since his return from Moscow he had completely stopped hanging out with women, didn’t even look at them, and didn’t keep a single dog. “However,” the men interpret, “it’s his luck that he doesn’t need a woman’s wife; and a dog - what does he need a dog for? You can’t drag a thief into his yard!” This is the rumor about the heroic strength of the mute.

The history of the legendary SMERSH, rightfully considered the best military counterintelligence in the world, did not end in 1946, when the GUKP “Death to spies!” was officially disbanded - veterans of this formidable department and their young colleagues, employees of the Third Directorate and Special Departments of the KGB, continued the secret war against a new enemy - the US intelligence services. In subsequent years, our military security officers managed to neutralize and neutralize virtually all American “moles” in the GRU.

The author of this book, a veteran of military counterintelligence, personally participated in operations to expose GRU personnel who had taken the path of betrayal, and in his unique research, he spoke in detail and accurately, in the smallest detail, about this complex work, many of the nuances of which have only now been declassified. Here, for the first time, the details of the hunt for the main American “mole” - the Bourbon agent, GRU Major General D. M. Polyakov, who collaborated with the CIA for more than a quarter of a century, but was eventually exposed by our counterintelligence, detained, convicted and shot.

Anatoly Tereshchenko
Heirs of SMERSH
Hunting for American "moles" in the GRU

Part one
Hunting for spies

There are crimes that cannot be expiated - this is treason.

Preface

One, like one’s mother, does not choose one’s homeland. It is given from birth. The Big Motherland, no matter what anyone says, begins with the Little Motherland. With the one where you were born, where you spent your childhood, where your parents and distant ancestors live or lived, where for the first time you felt strong, capable of protecting your family and friends - relatives, friends, your father’s house, your native land.

Our parents are dear to us, our children and grandchildren are dear, our relatives and friends are close. But all ideas about love for them are united in one word - Fatherland!

“What honest man,” said Cicero, “would hesitate to die for her if he could benefit from it.” Unfortunately, new times have made many adjustments to this aphorism.

I don’t accept temporary politicians who care only about their own well-being and who confuse power with business. But the strength of patriotism directly depends on people’s faith in the integrity and honesty, courage and calmness of their crowned leaders, whose words should be organically woven into deeds aimed at the prosperity of the state.

For military people, who combine word and deed into a single unit, patriotism is the defense of the state from external attacks. For military counterintelligence officers, this is, first of all, ensuring the security of units and subunits, their think tanks - headquarters of all levels, and the fight against enemy actions of foreign intelligence services to infiltrate their agents into the troops.

The author of these lines had the opportunity to engage in operational activities in the military counterintelligence system for more than a quarter of a century. Most of the service was devoted to counterintelligence support for the GRU of the General Staff of the USSR Armed Forces - one of the main objects of the US CIA's primary aspirations. During the period from the 70s to the 90s, military security officers managed to identify and neutralize a number of agents of enemy intelligence services from among Soviet military personnel. All, without exception, these were people who committed betrayal for selfish reasons.

The events described in the book are based on documentary materials. However, for operational and ethical reasons, the names of some heroes and anti-heroes, as well as the names of locations, have been changed. They are indicated with asterisks.

The purpose of what was written is not only to popularize the high professional level of colleagues who are slandered today by the “fourth estate”. The main thing is a warning that as long as states exist, regardless of the “warmth” of relations between their leaders, intelligence services will actively function, using the most Hi-tech and achievements of the human mind. The author of these lines did everything he could to recall the battles between military counterintelligence and US intelligence services in the receding 1980s. Whoever can do it better.

To entertain yourself with illusions about the parity reduction of efforts to “know more about your partner” is the greatest delusion. Preventing foreign intelligence services from searching for state secrets is the most important task of the counterintelligence agencies of any state.

The book shows the specific work of military counterintelligence officers in the last years of the existence of our common Motherland - the USSR. The author reflects on politics, the role of the individual in history, and shows fragments of the events of 1991 and 1993, which buried faith in the purity of power.

Unfortunately, during the years of “reformism” many chances to establish a normal life were missed. We were not looking for our own way in treating social ills, but were all hoping for a foreign therapist. But such doctors only helped in disarming the army and pumping out natural resources.

To achieve the former greatness of a superpower with which the whole world reckoned is the main task of the guardians of Russian well-being in the field of “freedom and democracy.” These puppeteers, through their obedient puppets, have already done a lot of things that the peoples of Russia will have to unravel for decades to restore the previous level of human existence.

The great philosopher of our time, Alexander Zinoviev, is three times right when he said that the “perestroika” and “reformers” caused harm to ordinary people a hundred times more than the Stalinists.

The history of Russia is the history of an almost constantly besieged fortress. The wars exhausted and hardened her at the same time. Just think: from 1365 to 1893, that is, over 500 years, Russia, according to historians, spent 305 years in wars. Spirit, faith and state organization helped defeat enemies. Today Russia is just gathering its thoughts and preparing for things that will be overwhelmed by the recent “democratic” madness.

People often ask the question: what is the difference between a spy and an intelligence officer? This question was once accurately answered by the American researcher of “battlefields on invisible fronts” Kurt Singer. In particular, he said: “All enemy agents are spies, all ours are intelligence officers.” We often reason the same way, only with the opposite sign.

Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev

In one of the remote streets of Moscow, in a gray house with white columns, a mezzanine and a crooked balcony, there once lived a lady, a widow, surrounded by numerous servants. Her sons served in St. Petersburg, her daughters got married; She rarely went out and lived out the last years of her stingy and bored old age in solitude. Her day, joyless and stormy, has long passed; but her evening was blacker than night.

Of all her servants, the most remarkable person was the janitor Gerasim, a man twelve inches tall, built like a hero and deaf-mute from birth. The lady took him from the village, where he lived alone, in a small hut, separately from his brothers, and was considered perhaps the most serviceable draft man. Gifted with extraordinary strength, he worked for four people - the work was in his hands, and it was fun to watch him when he was either plowing and, leaning his huge palms on the plow, it seemed that alone, without the help of a horse, he was tearing up the elastic chest of the earth, or about Petrov the day had such a crushing effect with its scythe that it could even sweep away a young birch forest from its roots, or it would deftly and non-stop thresh with a three-yard flail, and like a lever the elongated and hard muscles of his shoulders would lower and rise. The constant silence gave solemn importance to his tireless work. He was a nice man, and if it weren’t for his misfortune, any girl would willingly marry him... But they brought Gerasim to Moscow, bought him boots, sewed a caftan for the summer, a sheepskin coat for the winter, gave him a broom and a shovel and assigned him janitor

At first he really didn’t like his new life. Since childhood, he was accustomed to field work and rural life. Alienated by his misfortune from the community of people, he grew up dumb and powerful, like a tree growing on fertile land... Moved to the city, he did not understand what was happening to him - he was bored and perplexed, as a young, healthy bull that has just been taken is perplexed from the field, where the lush grass grew up to his belly, they took him, put him on a railway carriage - and now, showering his corpulent body with smoke and sparks, then with wavy steam, they are now rushing him, rushing with a knock and a squeal, and God knows where they are rushing news! Gerasim's employment in his new position seemed to him a joke after the hard work of the peasants; and after half an hour everything was ready for him, and again he would stop in the middle of the yard and look, with his mouth open, at everyone passing by, as if wanting to get them to solve his mysterious situation, then suddenly he would go somewhere into a corner and, throwing his broom far away and shovel, threw himself face down on the ground and lay motionless on his chest for hours, like a captured animal. But a person gets used to everything, and Gerasim finally got used to city life. He had little to do; His whole duty was to keep the yard clean, bring a barrel of water twice a day, haul and chop firewood for the kitchen and house, keep strangers out, and keep watch at night. And it must be said that he diligently fulfilled his duty: there were never any chips or litter lying around in his yard; if, in a dirty season, a broken water nag given under his command gets stuck somewhere with a barrel, he will only move his shoulder - and not only the cart, but the horse itself will be pushed out of place; Whenever he starts chopping wood, his ax rings like glass, and fragments and logs fly in all directions; and what about strangers, so after one night, having caught two thieves, he hit their foreheads against each other, and hit them so hard that at least he didn’t take them to the police afterwards, everyone in the neighborhood began to respect him very much; Even during the day, those passing by, no longer scammers at all, but simply strangers, at the sight of the formidable janitor, waved them off and shouted at him, as if he could hear their screams. With all the rest of the servants, Gerasim had a relationship that was not exactly friendly - they were afraid of him - but short: he considered them to be his own. They communicated with him by signs, and he understood them, carried out all orders exactly, but he also knew his rights, and no one dared to sit in his place at the capital. In general, Gerasim was of a strict and serious disposition, he loved order in everything; Even the roosters didn’t dare fight in front of him, otherwise there would be trouble! He sees him, immediately grabs him by the legs, spins him ten times in the air like a wheel, and throws him apart. There were also geese in the lady's yard; but the goose is known to be an important and sensible bird; Gerasim felt respect for them, followed them and fed them; he himself looked like a sedate gander. They gave him a closet above the kitchen; he arranged it for himself, according to his own taste: he built a bed in it from oak boards on four blocks, a truly heroic bed; a hundred pounds could have been put on it - it wouldn’t have bent; under the bed there was a hefty chest; in the corner there was a table of the same strong quality, and next to the table there was a chair on three legs, so strong and squat that Gerasim himself used to pick it up, drop it and grin. The closet was locked with a lock that resembled a kalach, only black; Gerasim always carried the key to this lock with him on his belt. He didn't like people to visit him.

So a year passed, at the end of which a small incident happened to Gerasim.

The old lady, with whom he lived as a janitor, followed ancient customs in everything and kept numerous servants: in her house there were not only laundresses, seamstresses, carpenters, tailors and seamstresses - there was even one saddler, he was also considered a veterinarian and doctor for the people, there was a house doctor for the mistress, and finally, there was one shoemaker named Kapiton Klimov, a bitter drunkard. Klimov considered himself a being offended and not appreciated, an educated and metropolitan man who would not live in Moscow, idle, in some outback, and if he drank, as he himself expressed himself with emphasis and beating his chest, then he drank just out of grief. So one day the lady and her chief butler, Gavrila, were talking about him, a man who, judging by his yellow eyes and duck nose, fate itself seemed to have destined to be the person in charge. The lady regretted the corrupt morality of Kapiton, who had just been found somewhere on the street the day before.

“Well, Gavrila,” she suddenly spoke, “shouldn’t we marry him, what do you think?” Maybe he'll settle down.

- Why not get married, sir! “It’s possible, sir,” answered Gavrila, “and it will be very good, sir.”

- Yes; But who will go for him?

- Of course, sir. However, as you wish, sir. Still, he, so to speak, may be needed for something; you can't throw him out of the top ten.

– It seems he likes Tatyana?

Gavrila wanted to object, but pressed his lips together.

“Yes!.. let him woo Tatyana,” the lady decided, sniffing the tobacco with pleasure, “do you hear?”

“I’m listening, sir,” said Gavrila and left. Returning to his room (it was in a wing and was almost entirely cluttered with forged chests), Gavrila first sent his wife out, and then sat down by the window and thought. The lady's unexpected order apparently puzzled him. Finally he stood up and ordered Capiton to be called. Kapiton appeared... But before we convey their conversation to the readers, we consider it useful to tell in a few words who this Tatyana was, whom Kapiton had to marry, and why the lady’s command confused the butler.

Tatyana, who, as we said above, held the position of laundress (however, as a skilled and learned laundress, she was entrusted with only fine linen), was a woman of about twenty-eight, small, thin, blond, with moles on her left cheek. Moles on the left cheek are considered a bad omen in Rus' - a harbinger of an unhappy life... Tatyana could not boast about her fate. From early youth she was kept in a black body; She worked for two people, but never saw any kindness; they dressed her poorly, she received the smallest salary; It was as if she had no relatives: some old housekeeper, left behind in the village due to unworthiness, was her uncle, and the other uncles were her peasants - that’s all. Ode was once known as a beauty, but her beauty quickly faded away. She was of a very meek disposition, or, better said, intimidated; she felt complete indifference to herself, and was mortally afraid of others; I thought only about how to finish my work on time, never spoke to anyone, and trembled at the mere name of the lady, although she hardly knew her by sight. When Gerasim was brought from the village, she almost froze with horror at the sight of his huge figure, tried in every possible way not to meet him, even squinted her eyes, it happened when she happened to run past him, rushing from the house to the laundry - Gerasim at first did not pay special attention to her attention, then he began to chuckle when he came across her, then he began to look at her, and finally he did not take his eyes off her at all. He fell in love with her; whether it was a meek expression on his face, or timidity in his movements—God knows! Once upon a time I was making my way