The Cathedral Clergy: A Chronicle

Chapter 1

Chapter 1 Nikolay Afanasievich, the dwarf, was not the only mourner struck by Tuberozov’s frighteningly calm face and trembling head as he walked slowly through the deep slush in the unpaved streets behind the coffin of his deceased wife, Natalya Nikolaevna. The great and silent grief of a man of profound feeling unquestionably contains an irresistible force felt by everyone, which inspires fear and horror in shallow people accustomed to venting their grief through moaning and wailing. All those with any connection to the widowered old man who had just lost his truest friend sensed this now. When clods of dirt from the grave began to pelt the lid of Natalya Nikolaevna’s coffin and the banished archpriest turned to step down from the tall mound, everyone surrounding him moved back and made way as he walked the entire length of the cemetery , bareheaded and utterly alone. He stopped at the gate, prayed in front of the icon in the chapel there, and, putting on his hat, looked back once more and was astounded: before him stood Nikolay Afanasievich, who had followed him all the way from the grave, staying two paces behind him. The archpriest’s somber face lit up with pleasure: he was obviously glad to see “the old fairy tale” at such a painful moment in his life and, turning away to face the black fields covered with frozen, shrunken green winter wheat, he let a heavy tear fall—a solitary tear that ran down his cheek as swiftly as a drop of quicksilver and hid in his white beard like a little orphan in the woods. The dwarf saw the tear and, comprehending all that it signified, slowly crossed himself. That tear made Savely’s chest, tight from repressed grief, feel lighter. He let out a mighty breath and in response to the dwarf’s invitation to ride back in his buggy, he replied: “Yes, Nikolasha, very well, I shall.” They rode in silence, and when the buggy stopped at the gendarme’s hovel near the monastery, Tuberozov silently shook the dwarf’s hand and silently went inside to his room. Nikolay Afanasievich did not follow him because he saw and understood Tuberozov’s desire to be alone. He did not call on the widower until that evening and, after sitting with him for a little while, he asked for a cup of tea on the pretext of being cold; his main objective, however, was to attempt to distract Savely from his grief and to engage him in a conversation regarding the reason Nikolay Afanasievich had come. 294 PART V Nikolay Afanasievich’s plan could not have been more successful, and when Tuberozov brought a bubbling samovar into the room and began to get cups out of the cupboard and make the tea, the dwarf began a calm, roundabout discourse on what had been happening in Old Town up to the present, telling his tale step by step, day by day, right up to the very hour that now found him sitting there, in that little shack. A large part of the tale, naturally, was devoted to the townfolks’ laments over the archpriest’s misfortunes, their sorrow because of his absence, and their fear that they might be deprived of him for good. After listening to the beginning of Nikolay Afanasievich’s discourse with a somber tranquillity bordering on apathy, the archpriest suddenly became more attentive during the last part of the tale, which concerned the parish’s attitude toward him, and when the dwarf, looking all around and lowering his voice, described how the entire community had written and signed a petition and how he, Nikolay Afanasievich, had taken it from Achilles and “hidden it at my breast,” the old man’s lower lip suddenly began to twitch convulsively and he said: “Thank you, good people.” “Our people are indeed good, Father, even very good, only they still don’t know how to proceed or what to do.” “Darkness, darkness was upon the face of the deep … but the Spirit of God moved above everything,”1 said the archpriest and, letting out a deep sigh, asked to see the document Nikolay Afanasievich had mentioned. “But what do you want this document for, Father Archpriest, sir?” the dwarf inquired with a sly smile. “Tomorrow it will be submitted to the person it’s addressed to.” “Give it to me … I want to have a look at it.” The dwarf began to unbutton his garments in...