In The Dark

Anton Chekhov

A FLY of medium size made its way into the nose of the assistant procurator, Gagin. It may

have been impelled by curiosity, or have got there through frivolity or accident in the dark;

anyway, the nose resented the presence of a foreign body and gave the signal for a sneeze.

Gagin sneezed, sneezed impressively and so shrilly and loudly that the bed shook and the

springs creaked. Gagin's wife, Marya Mihalovna, a full, plump, fair woman, started, too,

and woke up. She gazed into the darkness, sighed, and turned over on the other side. Five

minutes afterwards she turned over again and shut her eyes more firmly but she could not

get to sleep again. After sighing and tossing from side to side for a time, she got up, crept

was silent.

The stillness was broken by Marya Mihalovna herself. Standing at the window and gazing

into the yard, she suddenly uttered a cry. She fancied that from the flower garden with the

gaunt, clipped poplar, a dark figure was creeping towards the house. For the first minute she

thought it was a cow or a horse, then, rubbing her eyes, she distinguished clearly the

outlines of a man.

Then she fancied the dark figure approached the window of the kitchen and, standing still a

moment, apparently undecided, put one foot on the window ledge and disappeared into the

darkness of the window.

"A burglar!" flashed into her mind and a deathly pallor overspread her face.

"W-well?" grunted the assistant procurator, with a deep inward breath and a munching

sound.

"For God's sake, wake up! A burglar has got into the kitchen! I was standing at the window

looking out and someone got in at the window. He will get into the dining-room next . . .

the spoons are in the cupboard! Basile! They broke into Mavra Yegorovna's last year."

"Wha--what's the matter?"

"Heavens! he does not understand. Do listen, you stupid! I tell you I've just seen a man

getting in at the kitchen window! Pelagea will be frightened and . . . and the silver is in the

cupboard!"

"Stuff and nonsense!"

"Basile, this is unbearable! I tell you of a real danger and you sleep and grunt! What would

you have? Would you have us robbed and murdered?"

The assistant procurator slowly got up and sat on the bed, filling the air with loud yawns.

"Goodness knows what creatures women are! he muttered. "Can't leave one in peace even

"Worse than ever!" shrieked Marya Mihalovna. "That's worse than a burglar! I won't put up

with cynicism in my house!"

"Hoity-toity! We are virtuous! . . . Won't put up with cynicism? As though it were

cynicism! What's the use of firing off those foreign words? My dear girl, it's a thing that has

happened ever since the world began, sanctified by tradition. What's a fireman for if not to

make love to the cook?"

"No, Basile! It seems you don't know me! I cannot face the idea of such a . . . such a . . . in

my house. You must go this minute into the kitchen and tell him to go away! This very

minute! And to-morrow I'll tell Pelagea that she must not dare to demean herself by such

proceedings! When I am dead you may allow immorality in your house, but you shan't do it

the door of the nursery and waked the nurse.

"Vassilissa," he said, "you took my dressing-gown to brush last night -- where is it?"

"I gave it to Pelagea to brush, sir."

"What carelessness! You take it away and don't put it back -- now I've to go without a

dressing-gown!"

On reaching the kitchen, he made his way to the corner in which on a box under a shelf of

saucepans the cook slept.

"Pelagea," he said, feeling her shoulder and giving it a shake, "Pelagea! Why are you

pretending? You are not asleep! Who was it got in at your window just now?"

"Mm . . . m . . . good morning! Got in at the window? Who could get in?"

while he can! Do you hear? He's no business to be here!"

"Are you out of your senses, sir, bless you? Do you think I'd be such a fool? Here one's

it! I used to live in a tradesman's house, and never met with such insult there!"

"Come, come -- no need to go over your grievances! This very minute your grenadier must

"You ought to be ashamed, sir," said Pelagea, and he could hear the tears in her voice.

"Gentlefolks . . . educated, and yet not a notion that with our hard lot . . . in our life of toil"

"Come, come . . . I don't mind! Your mistress sent me. You may let a devil in at the window

for all I care!"

and go back to his spouse.

"I say, Pelagea," he said, "you had my dressing-gown to brush. Where is it?"

blow with an axe . . . dying without uttering a single sound . . . a pool of blood! . . .

Five minutes passed . . . five and a half . . . at last six. . . . A cold sweat came out on her

forehead.

"Basile!" she shrieked, "Basile!"

"What are you shouting for? I am here." She heard her husband's voice and steps. "Are you

being murdered?"

The assistant procurator went up to the bedstead and sat down on the edge of it.

"There's nobody there at all," he said. "It was your fancy, you queer creature. . . . You can

sleep easy, your fool of a Pelagea is as virtuous as her mistress. What a coward you are!

What a . . . ."

And the deputy procurator began teasing his wife. He was wide awake now and did not

Justice. He gave us all a photograph when he said good-bye to us yesterday, with his

autograph."

Gagin struck a match against the wall and lighted a candle. But before he had moved a step

from the bed to fetch the photographs he heard behind him a piercing, heartrending shriek.

Looking round, he saw his wife's large eyes fastened upon him, full of amazement, horror,

and wrath. . . .

"You took your dressing-gown off in the kitchen?" she said, turning pale.

"Why?"

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