Sister Pelagia and the Black Monk by Boris Akunin Read Free Book Online Page A

position as a junior consistorial auditor, lodged him with a good, conscientious landlady, and told him to feel at home in the episcopal chambers, an invitation of which Lentochkin, who had not yet managed to make any acquaintances in Zavolzhsk, had taken full advantage without the slightest ceremony: he dined there, spent hours in the bishop's library, and even chatted with Mitrofanii about all manner of things. Very many people would have regarded it as a great good fortune to listen to what the bishop said, for his speech was always not only instructive, but also highly delightful to the ear, but Lentochkin for the most part held forth himself—and Mitrofanii did not object or interrupt, but listened with evident enjoyment.
There can be no doubt that this friendship took hold because the bishop ranked sharpness of wit and independence of thought more highly than almost all other human qualities, and Lentochkin possessed these particular characteristics in the highest degree. Sister Pelagia, who took a dislike to Alexei Stepanovich from the very beginning (for after all, the feeling of envy is sometimes encountered among individuals of the monastic calling), said that Mitrofanii's partiality to the boy was also motivated by his competitive spirit—he wanted to crack this hard nut, to awaken him to Faith. When the nun accused the bishop of vain pride, he did not argue with her, but he justified himself by saying that it was not a great sin and to some extent it was even excused by Holy Scripture, for it was written: “I say unto you, there shall be greater rejoicing over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous who are in no need of repentance.”
But it seems to us that in addition to this praiseworthy aspiration, meaning the salvation of a human soul, there was another, psychological reason, of which His Grace himself was probably not even aware. While his vocation as a monk had deprived him of the sweet burden of fatherhood, Mitrofanii had still not entirely overcome the corresponding emotional impulse, and while to a certain extent Pelagia had taken the place of his daughter, the position of son had remained vacant until Alexei Stepanovich appeared. The perceptive Matvei Bentsionovich, himself an experienced father with numerous children, was the first to draw Sister Pelagia's attention to this possible reason for His Graces exceptional partiality for the impertinent youth, and although deep in his heart, of course, he was stung, he was able to summon up enough irony to joke: “The bishop might have been glad to regard me as his son, but then he would have had to accept a dozen grandchildren into the bargain, and not many men are brave enough to attempt such a heroic feat.”
When they were in each other's company, Mitrofanii and Alyosha resembled most of all (we beg the reader's forgiveness for such a disrespectful comparison) a big old dog with a frisky puppy who gambols around his parent, sometimes grabbing him by the ear, sometimes trying to clamber up on him, sometimes snapping at his nose with his sharp little teeth; for a certain time the giant bears this pestering uncomplainingly, but when the puppy gets too carried away, he will growl at him quietly or press him to the floor with his mighty paw—but gently, so as not to crush him.
On the day following the portentous tea party, Mitrofanii had to leave for one of his outlying deaneries on urgent business, but the bishop did not forget his decision, and on his return he summoned Alexei Stepanovich Lentochkin; but even before that he sent for Berdichevsky and Pelagia to explain his reasoning to them, this time without any shade of paradox.
“There is a double logic to sending Lentochkin,” the bishop told his advisers. “First, it is best for the matter at hand if these chimeras are dealt with not by a person who has leanings toward mysticism”—at this point His Grace cast a sideways glance at his spiritual daughter—“but by someone who