One shadow there was on their romance; a shadow thrown by the presence of another lad. Mitia was smart looking, sharp red-lipped and black haired like a Greek or Gipsy. No one knew where he came from when, on his first appearance, he had asked to be allowed to pass the night at the mill. All the evening he and Vania had whispered together in a comer. Eventually he stayed.
From that hour Vania became a different person. His cheek grew redder. His eyes shone more brilliantly. But he no longer worked so well. He became lazy and heedless and almost ceased making love to Masha.
When the newcomer was asked what province he came from and whether he had passports, he replied that he was a traveller and that for passport he carried a sharp blade in his hip pocket.
The police came to see him, but he made them drunk and sent them away unanswered.
«He’s not a man. He’s a disaster,» said the old miller and Mesentzeff agreed. Mitia ignored the townsman quite openly, parrying his questions with jokes which were sometimes offensive, but always witty. Mesentzeff knew too little of rural Russia as yet to be afraid of him; but the first words he caught from the window awoke his suspicions and made him listen more attentively.
«You are going away, won’t,» sighed Masha. «You are going away and you won’t say where?»
«You’re a funny lass. How can I tell you if it is a secret?»
«I know. I know. Mitia has led you astray.»
«Mitia is no worse than other people.»
«He is a vagabond, a highway robber.»
«If everyone was a highway robber like him, the devil wouldn’t dare go about the roads so freely as he does now.»
«So he fights the devil?»
«Now look ye, lass, you mustn’t cross examine me. All that I may, I’ll tell you of my own accord. The real fight has begun. God has been forgotten in the villages and in the towns are people who do not even believe in him. I know it is so; for I have read in their books that the world was not made in six days and that Adam and Eve never existed. Long ago when good men were more plentiful, folk who thought such things were burnt or put in prison. Only nowadays you can’t reach them. They are too high up. They are leaders, teachers of science; great generals. The good men have to take other ways. They have determined to act cleverly so as to bring the wicked to confusion. After all Satan is only cunning. He is not really clever. He falls into any trap set for him; and when his followers are beaten, we shall be able to say, «Look at your great men. They know nothing. They are as ignorant as new born babes.» And the devil will be forever ashamed.»
«What are you going to do then?»
«I shall have my place. I write songs and Mitia told me songs might be useful to the Joyful Brotherhood. Besides I know the works of the Holy Fathers thoroughly, which is also very necessary.»
«This is not a good undertaking.»
«It is too late to discuss that now. I have made up my mind. If you like, I’ll read you the poem I wrote today.»
«Do Vania! But speak gently. The gentleman is asleep overhead.»
Masha had lowered her voice and Mesentzeff felt rather ashamed of his eavesdropping. Vania began in a low, crooning voice:
«You are my angel» by the tone of her voice Masha was close to her beloved. «Go where you wish. Everything you do will be well done. I will wait for you like the princess in the fairy tale and you will surely come back. Such a love as mine must draw you home to me.»
«No, don’t wait for me, Masha. I will never come back to you,» was the quiet answer. «What is the use of my coming back? Mitia is your lover.»
«What did you say?»
«He told me so himself the day before yesterday. It was how he persuaded me to go with him.»
«It isn’t true!» panted Masha. «I had a vision, but it’s not true. It’s not true.»
«Perhaps he lied.» Vania’s voice was hopefully doubtful. «In that case I can stay here.»
«Listen and I will tell you the truth. I have not inned. He has been making love to me, flattering me; staring at me with his bright eyes. I used to hide from him and never thought of evil. The day before yesterday I was sewing by the window. The sun was already behind the forest. There was no one near. Suddenly I felt a strange faintness come over me and I saw a woman exactly like myself, another Masha, walking in the brushwood at the window and neither of us knew which was the real woman. At that moment Mitia appeared in the undergrowth and laughed. «Come here, my beauty» he said. «Don’t be frightened. The real Masha is up there in the room.» When I heard that I went to him. I felt no fear and no shame. I knew I was alone with my work and could even see the needle moving. But I could hear sounds of kissing and the words spoken in the wood made me shy. I don’t know how long it lasted. I woke up when father came in and it was time to light the lamp.»
«How much sewing did you do?» asked Vania, but only the sound of sobbing answered him. «You see. You see. Mitia lied not to me but to you when he said your real self was in the room. Only your shadow was there. How can I come back to you?»
There was a long pause and then the voice of Masha saying hopelessly, «No, you cannot come back. With such a shame I cannot live.»
«Yes, you will. If you hadn’t begun to cry, you might have done something desperate, but tears dissolve sorrow. Good bye! It is beginning to get light and Mitia is waiting for me. And don’t think I am angry, dear, because I am never that.»
Mesentzeff heard movements below the window and went to the back of his room. He was agitated and upset by what he had overheard. He felt he should do something to help the lovers. Was it possible that a cultivated man, a student of Psychoanalysis, a persistent reader of fiction, should be incapable of putting to rights this rustic tragedy? He laid down, following the Russian townsman’s habit of thinking better in that position.
Vania must be persuaded not to attach too much importance to the involuntary infidelity of his fiancée. Her soul was as pure as ever. Or Masha must be made to find in herself the strength to appear indifferent and by some woman’s wile bring her lover back to her. Or again Mitia must be stopped showing his white teeth like a bulldog in an old engraving; and forced to hide the three foot knife that stuck out from his pocket like the fantastic branch of a tree...
When Mesentzeff awoke, it was day. Someone knocked at the door. «Get up, Sir,» said the voice of his landlord.
«Masha has just been taken out of the water. She is all cold. Perhaps you can help us.»
Mesentzeff struggled hastily into his clothes and came out. On the turf near the house, surrounded by a group of compassionate peasants, Masha lay stretched. Her wet dress clung closely to her body. Her head lay upon her clasped hands and she looked more like a sleeping boy than a woman. Mesentzeff bent over her, meaning to apply the various means he had vaguely heard of for restoring the drowned to life. But he sprung back shocked. On one of Masha’s half-opened eyes, a lady bird was walking. It crawled very slowly, slipping like a tear of blood.
The tiny detail showed Mesentzeff there was nothing more to do. He unconsciously made the sing of the cross and as though waiting for the signal, the women began to weep.
«Does Vania know of this?» asked Mesentzeff of the stunned and horrified miller.
«No. We can’t find him anywhere.»
«And Mitia?»
«Who? What? Oh! Mitia — he has gone off too.»
Mesentzeff gave a half groan. He realized that all this had happened because of his sleeping so shamefully; because he had let the lads leave and neglected the girl in the hour of her mortal distress. With the usual weakness of man, always seeking to justify himself by accusing others, he felt a sudden hatred for Mitia. It was Mitia who had seduced Masha, had dragged Vania away on a more than doubtful path; and was even now dancing through the green pastures seeking further crimes to commit.
