The Cavalier Guards. 1812.White colet and phrygian cap

“Gimme,” Genevieve said, simply ripping the scissors out of her hand, and the comb, too, is…

The milliner began to cut herself, deftly grabbing her curls with two fingers, trimming, and then combing. and singing something again, then stepping away, and looking at his work with pleasure.

“Well,” she said, and with a comb she dropped her cut hair on the grass, “There is,” and she brought her hand to her mouth.

Fedot nodded, and looked at himself in the mirror. Hair, like a bar cut, beautiful, straight Ivan Tsarevich. Yes, not scary. You can’t see under the card.

At first they ate crayfish. Then Genevieve served millet stew, and it turned out delicious. After she pulled out a pot of is under the corner with small pieces of meat, as delicious as chicken. And where is his Vasilisa — Wise took the chickens??? But delicious, you can’t say anything. Sometimes, too, he will change what Ilya the hunter has for Easter or Christmas. Partridge or hare, and Martha will also cook something good in sour cream.

— Thank you, very tasty. And what is it?

“Then I’ll tell you. French cooking, Ce sont des cuisses de grenoille, delicieux, — said the girl, herself happily leaning on dinner, — in the city, as we get there.

Then they drank sbiten, already brewed by Fedot. The day really turned out to be good. Genevieve went to the river, to fight boilers without soap, the help of the young man was rejected as inappropriate. She returned when it was getting dark. The girl’s hair was wet, and most likely far from prying eyes she washed in the river. Fedot put the bowler hat in a bag and prepared blankets, he now collected the hut quickly. Genevieve spun for a long time on her bed, then got up, and wrapped in a blanket, resolutely sat in his place, so that he barely moved away.

— Thank you for everything, Mersi pour tout, — she said quietly, — You, like a real knight, saved me from the hands of the villain, and took me to a saving place. Now, as a saved woman, I must pay you off like a woman, Toi, comme un vrai chevallier, tu m’as sauve des mains du mechant. Et l’a conduit au lieu du salut. Maintenant, en tant gue femme sauee, je dois te payer comme une femme. — тараторила она по- французски.

She slowly took off the blanket, and pulled it off Fedot and him, then lay down next to him, and hugged him by the neck, pulling him closer to her. It could not be said that the young man resisted Cupid’s arrows, but Genevieve, like the nymph Calypso, took this newly-minted Ulysses around the gardens of pleasure for a long time. Finally, the Frenchwoman fell asleep on the shoulder of the young man, scattering her black curls of hair on his chest. Both woke up when the sun rose already high. Fedot carefully freed himself from the dexterous hands of the beauty, and went to wash himself, and prepared food. The girl quickly dressed, and sat next to him, kissing him on the cheek. We ate quickly, got ready for the road. The young man checked the passports brought by Ilya. One for him, the other was discharged to Martha, as Telnov serfs, released for a year. He carefully smoothed the papers, but still could not read, on the reverse side the hunter made a red mark for him, and blue for Martha.

— Genevieve, we will come to the city, past the slingshot, where the soldiers are standing, you do not say a word. According to your passport, you are Russian, my sister. You’ll be dumb.

— Sister??? — she laughed, — In Italy they say “niece.” But, I will be silent if you so want.

— Let’s go.

***

They went through the forest, went out the road, there were also many travelers next to them, the carriers drove scrap carts loaded with grain into the city. Herds of animals were driven to slaughterhouses. Sometimes graceful carriages passed by. Genevieve looked shabby in peasant clothes and a scarf, so Fedot could not resist a smile. Here are slingshots on the city rampart, where the alarm booth, the soldier of the inner suffering checks passports. The passers-by were immediately sent back, and three particularly suspicious soldiers were taken on guard. The ensign, a perky officer, also in a gray uniform and gray cap, ordered here.

— Do not crowd, — only his bossy voice was heard, — Come on, — this was another senior team at the entrance to the city.

Fedot and Genevieve waited their turn. In front of them stood a group of peasants with knapsacks behind their backs. The men prepared their vacation documents, the corporal quickly checked, nodded, and another soldier lifted the barrier, a long log with a counterweight, painted with black and white stripes. Finally, Fedot approached the corporal.

— Good afternoon, servant, — greeted the young man holding out the papers, — we would be in the city.

— Good, — the corporal answered, burying himself in passports, — it means that Fedot and his sister Martha, serfs of the landowners Telnovs, in Kostroma.

“Exactly.

“Why doesn’t my sister answer?” he asked, checking the documents, and glancing attentively at the girl’s face.

“She is mute.

“Well, God bless you, come in,” the corporal said, nodding to the alarm clock.

The barrier slowly rose, letting the young man and girl into the long-awaited city. Fedot slowly exhaled, having already gone to Kostroma Street, and Genevieve squeezed his hand almost to bruises. She only turned a couple of times on the soldier, but then, when she turned, the travelers fled behind the house, she chirped incessantly on her own:

— I thought he’d guess… I’m a brunette, and you are blond, good brother and sister. It’s good that there was a scarf on his head. Je pensains gu’il devinerait. Je suis une brune, et tu esblonde, frete et sceur sont bons. C’est bien gu’il ait un foulard sur ma tete. — and she laughed again — do I really look like a Russian peasant woman? Je ressemble vraiment a une paysanne russe? Ah, you don’t understand. Everything is fine, “she said in Russian.

— Bargaining needs to be found, Fedot added.

A cart was passing by, a man was walking nearby, with a full beard, solid clothes and Yuft boots polished to a shine.

— Venerable, you can’t tell me how to get to the house of the merchant Rodion Khrenov?

“Who are you going to be to him?” How do you know Rodion Lavrentievich?

— Unfamiliar personally. Only to convey the news, from his friend.

— Come after me then, — the merchant looked at the stranger with suspicion, — Just past his house and drive.

“Thank you, kind man,” Fedot replied, bowing.

They walked past wooden houses surrounded by fences taller than human height. The gates and gates were decorated with beautiful carvings, which were repeated somewhere, but not somewhere. The wheels of the cart creaked incessantly, preventing the driver from falling asleep completely. The man nodded sharply, as if agreeing with something, gawked his eyes, all trying to stay out of the world of dreams. Finally, their guide nodded towards the large estate, and added with the words:

— Here, on the right. His home, Rodion Lavrentievich. Pass the bow from Flora Semenovich.

“We’ll tell you,” Fedot promised.

The young man and the girl immediately approached the wicket and knocked. Barking the dog from behind the fence was the first answer, after the male voice scored:

— Who came?

— To Rodion Lavrentievich, — the young man answered loudly and clearly, — it was important.

“I’ll call the owner.

Fedot prepared a letter from Ilya, but clenched his teeth, hoping that everything would work out. He heard a conversation in the yard

“What is it?” Avdey, what did you call?

— Rodion Lavrentiich, someone asks. Unfamiliar.

— Okay, I’ll take a look. Maybe God’s work…

A heavy bolt with a creak opened, and a tall osanite man came out into the street, with a small beard, dressed inexpensively, but very neatly.

“Who will you be?” What did you come with? asked the owner of the house, at least unfriendly, but also without anger in his voice.

— To you we, Rodion Lavrentievich, with a letter, — and Fedot gave a message to Ilya.

— Nooo? the merchant answered, holding out his hand, and took the paper.

He quickly ran his eyes, the young man envied a competent person who was given such a skill.

— Once from Ilya, I will help everything, and I will hide. Yes, girl, — he nodded at the girl, — not your sister. Come on in. But first, to the bathhouse. Avdey! ‘he shouted to the worker.

“Yes, Rodion Lavrentiich,” the worker replied.

— Give Natalia a damn, let him steam the girl in the bathhouse, and then he will go, — the merchant nodded at Fedot. It is not the custom to let guests into the house if they were not in the bath.

— I will do everything as ordered, — Avdey immediately agreed.

The merchant Khrenov also slowly disappeared into the house, leaving the workers to take care of the guests. The girl came and took Genevieve away.

The Frenchwoman was unusual here. She, like the guide, undressed, and entered the hot room. Steam rose to the low ceiling, wooden buckets of hot water stood, and finally soap! The guest began to rub herself with urine. Yes, it was very cool here. Then Natalya, as a sign, suggested that Genevieve lie down, and began to hit her back lightly with a broom, then pour water on it, then the procedure was repeated. They sat in the dressing room, then the girl took the guest to the female half of the house.

The young man just sat and waited, looked at his bags. The companion also returned, with a flushed face after a hot wash, and Avdey led the young man to wash. Fedot also washed and rested. They had a steam room at home, but much easier than a merchant.

— Let’s go for lunch, Rodion Lavrenievich calls you to himself, — Avdey always told guests.

They went up to the second floor of the house, where it was already covered. In the red corner stood icons of old writing, with lamps on fire. Smart plates, painted wooden spoons. Before Genevieve sat down on a chair, the servant put down silver devices — a couple of different lengths of two-toothed forks, a couple of knives, a spoon.

“I’m not stupid, Fedot. What kind of sister is she? What is your real name, you girl? — he turned to the Frenchwoman.

— Genevieve Roussille, she said quietly.

— Well, too, therefore, Russian, — the merchant Khrenov laughed, — that’s it, girl, good. I know here in Kostroma a couple of French merchants. I’ll ask you who will take you to Moscow. Do not be afraid that I have these Telnovs. There are rooms for you, live as long as you need. Do you eat, why are you sitting, fucking?

The woman brought soup, and poured cabbage soup into plates. Fedot just rumbled in his stomach, only hoped that he could not be heard by anyone. Then she poured cups and mead from the zhban, Genevieve wrinkled her nose a little.

— Eh, garden head, try first, — the owner downloaded, looking at the guest, — Well, for health, not drunkenness for. I don’t drink honey, vodka and wine.

The girl took a sip, appreciated, immediately nodded, agreeing.

— there now… I sent Avdeika to Sandor Poison da Henri Landrin. Avdeyka will not talk too much, and he knows a little about French.

Then they brought crucian carp in sour cream, then stewed catfish. The young man watched with curiosity how deftly the milliner changes cutlery during lunch, without getting confused, and it was clear that it was convenient and familiar for her to eat this way. He himself habitually ate with his hands. After they brought pies, and something else.

Genevieve changed her face, as if sensing the aroma of a long-desired. The servant, who carried a coffee pot and cups on a tray, grimaced and almost spat. Putting, I could not stand it:

— What about Father! You will drink godly drink! And then you look, and the nick grass and the damn vodka!

— Not to me Praskovya, foreign guests, — the owner explained, grinning.

The woman only pursed her lips, but looked incredulously at those sitting at the table. Frowning, she quickly left.

Genevieve herself jumped up and poured the young man into the cup and herself, and looked inquiringly at Khrenov, but he made a negative gesture with his right hand, refusing.

— No, I do not drink, — the owner of the house refused, — not according to our custom.

Fedot sniffed, smelled strange and unusual from the cup. He saw how their landowners drink this drink, but praise. Drank, bitter.

The girl drank a cup with visible pleasure, and immediately poured herself a second. She held the little cup very deftly, with only two fingers, bending the others to the side.

— I’m glad I did. And you are Fedot, what craft is trained?

“I am a wheeler.

— Of those who work in the workhouse?

“It is.

— Telnovsky masters are famous, stay, I won’t hurt with money.

“You have to think,” replied the young man.

“That’s right. It’s time to sleep, Natalia will see you off, rest.

Genevieve turned around and looked at the guy, he nodded his head, wishing her good night. Radion Lavrentievich looked knowingly, but did not say anything, only smiled into his mustache, recalling his young years.

Fedot’s room was small but clean. And a blanket, and a pillow, a mattress stuffed with grass and the same pillow — everything was there, and there were sheets with a pillowcase made of linen. Next to the shop stood a stool, a jug of water and a clay cup, in the red corner three icons with a burning lamp. The young man prayed, remembering his sister.

“What should I do? How can Martha be found? It will be easier for me to find out the merchant Khrenov than in the estate. We need to find a new passport, but steal Martha, and there it will be seen, — the young man thought all, — but how to be with Genevieve? “He tossed and turned for a long time, finally fell asleep.

Merchant Khrenov

Rodion Lavrentievich read his favorite book, laying a beautiful binding decorated with red stones on the set. Three candles burned, in excellent candelabra, made of bronze, beautifully cast, and superbly polished. Nearby was a silver dish brought by a stone beyond the Urals. Coinage, or casting was indescribably beautiful, but Natalia could not show it. Naked figures of men and women were performed on it, a young man and a woman rode in a chariot into which lions were harnessed, and soldiers with shields and swords danced around them. Gold stars shone above them in the silver sky. The elder of a couple of dozen Old Believers, whom he then sent to Altai, sent this thing in gratitude for the asylum. The merchant Khrenov recalled the day when Avdey met tired and hungry people who fled from the misfortune of the lordly. An hour later, those who agreed to give protection to the unfortunate came and shelter in their homes and estates. He sheltered five, then hovered everyone in the bathhouse for a long time, burned curled clothes, and hid people behind a secret door. The police came, but without her. They walked for a long time, wandered, almost sniffed the estate, were especially interested in the cellar, and the red smoked fish hanging in the barn. Well, they later found the fish, or rather the torovy Rodion Lavrentievich treated everyone, did not disdain the low ranks of ordinary policemen. Yes, and a bunch of wobbles, and a carrot for the kids of the police. And the police have children, and the merchant Khrenov could not hate them either. Beloved daughter, Nastya, came out a French merchant, a Catholic, and treated Indian potion, the last remains of which Khrenov sent to a distant monastery, a great herbalist, and a healer. Egoriy also studied with Perm herbalists, but there are no better than them in the whole world. And he justified the healers — he created the composition! Helps from fever, and from fever, although not from any. So not only people of the old rite are good, they came across among people of alien faith are not bad, rarely true.

Rodion thoughtfully read the book further, admired the drawings. Here, Miracle Yudo Fish Whale. A huge monster, but still smiles, does not show anger, although it is stronger than everyone else many times. Jar- A bird that brings light and happiness… Here it would be here that people would live better. You look, and the unfortunate Fedot will get better, he will take Genevieve with him to France. Apparently, he loves him, and it’s good, and he will help good people.

***

In the morning they fed breakfast, but took them to the workshops. The merchant’s estate was rather big, and warehouses, and stables, a carriage shed, a small forge, just to heat iron, but to shoe, but what is there — God forbid! Fedot examined the farm, anvils, hammers.

— Avdey, why not put a bigger bugle?

“You also tell the ore to melt. Forges can only be installed near the water, otherwise a fire will happen…

— Okay, let’s start, — Fedot looked around.

The wood was good, aged, and the lathe for processing spokes stood in the corner. The work argued, although it was unusual for the young man without a mentor, but now, he warmed up the rim, he had already put an iron tire on the wheel he had just made.

— Good work master, good, — said Radion Lavrentievich himself, — wash your hands, but go into the house.

— What happened? Fedot did not understand.

“Come in,” the merchant repeated, and left.

The master took off his apron, thoughtfully washed his hands, smoothed his hair, and went to the house, thinking what had happened. He went into the yard, and there were two carriages and a simpler crew, each drawn by four horses. On the goats of each crew sat a coachman and a servant. The merchant talked with a strictly dressed foreigner, and a dressed young lady in a beautiful purple dress, a hat, from under which black curled curls were knocked out, walked impatiently around the yard. Suddenly the beauty turned around, and seeing Fedota quickly approached him, and threw her hands on his shoulders, hugged and kissed him, and so stood for a very long time.

— Fedot, come with me, why are you here. In France you will be a free man, no one is your boss — and she hesitated — I love you. Believe me, you will not save your sister, and do not blame yourself, it is the bad people who are to blame, not you.

The young man looked back, wanting to call those who would explain to him the words of the girl. The very sad owner of the estate came up, leaning on the staff.

— The girl is calling to France. Sandor Poison straightened her documents, they go home. And he says that you will not find your sister, you yourself will only disappear. And that it is better to be free than a slave. Everything says right, — he said, sighing heavily, — listen to her boyfriend, I lived, I know life. Here, out, many flee to Altai, or to Siberia, everything from the tsar and the landowners.

“I can’t,” Fedot said sadly, “I have to find Martha.” Forgive me, Genevieve.

He spoke and Rodion translated. Genevieve’s tears rolled, and she did not try to hide or wipe them, and she only shook her head, and replied:

“You forgive me. Vous etes tres belle, J’espere gue je serai bon pour toi. I’m glad I met you. Goodbye, and she turned and walked quickly to the carriage.

— What did she say? said the young man in an empty voice.

“She said good-bye,” the merchant said, “I’ll talk to Monsieur Poison.”

— I’ll catch up… Fedot said quietly.

“Don’t be a guy if you don’t come with her.

Mr. Khrenov talked with a French merchant, discussed something for a long time, finally hugged, and kissed three times in Russian. Poison lifted his hat a little, got into the carriage. The coachmen clapped their reins, pushing the carriages forward. It seemed to Fedot that a curtain in the window swung in the second carriage, the young man escorted the wagon with his eyes until he disappeared from his eyes in the summer dust of the roads.

— Let’s go, lad, there is a lot of business ahead, — the owner of the house whispered to Fedot.

The wheelman hung his head and trudged into the workshop. Now his apprentices were squinting at his mother, waiting for him to say. Even a favorite thing did not ease the sense of guilt and the bitterness of loss, but two weeks passed, and it became easier, but not in everything.

The Chamber of Secrets

The master, now the master, went to the market, check how things are going in the shop, and how his goods are sold. Khrenov’s shop for bargaining was considerable, and by agreement once a week Fedot came to talk with the clerks and discuss the wishes of the buyers. The young man now looked like a real craftsman, a dark gray caftan, a black cap, gray pants, a satin shirt, and black, shiny boots from the best safyan.

Several people fussed around the shop. Not buyers, but people, as if they wanted to rob merchants. The cunning eyes of one of them seemed to feel the doors and goods of the merchant. Fedot seemed to have twisted in his chest, but he went into the shop, agreed with people. Then he regretted it for a long time.

One with his back to him was Gavrila, one of Ivan’s journeymen, a master at Telnovka. Inept and evil in addition little man, yes earpiece and yabeda. More than once, Fedot’s friends were flogged at his slander.

— Well, walked? — shouted Telnovsky serf, — the lady was waiting for you, bored… And Kuzma Petrovich prepared a new whip for you, he wants to try everything, but he only says, they say, Fedota will wait… — and brazenly smiled and grabbed a five for a new caftan.

Fedot, without thinking, hit the slave in the nose with his fist, and Gavrila crossed the blow of a new boot in the stomach. That I would be proud of the earpiece, that it would not be something, but a new, but a safian boot! The third did not have time to do anything, and Fedot let him run down the street away from the shop. The third slave ran after, but remembering only that incident with Gavrila, he was not in a hurry, and therefore lagged behind more and more. The clerk just sighed, and sent a little boy to Radion Lavrentievich, which would warn, but said what happened.

***

Fedot ran down the street, holding a new cap in his hand. The wind fluttered the hair cut at the French Quafer. For a long time the master chose the style, looking at the pictures, he wanted everything to do as Genevieve cut him. The young man recalled the words of the master:

— OH! The young man understands fashion!

Now, the main thing is not to fall into the clutches of Petrovich, he is now very cool for reprisals. But, the chase lagged behind, and disappeared completely. Fedot screamed into the tavern, and approached the clerk.

— Such a thing — and the chariot put a silver fifty dollars in front of him — it is necessary to leave.

— Yes, it is necessary, then we will leave, — the interlocutor made an understanding person, — Let’s go, however?

The clerk took the lantern, led it through two dull dark passages, and led to a basement hidden by an oak door. Here, both the floor and the walls were made of oak timber, and the very type of structure aroused respect. It was done very firmly, conscientiously, you can’t break it.

“Come on,” the man said, illuminating the opening, “and sit quietly…

Fedot grabbed the iron ring, opening the doors, and looked back at the guide.

— Now turn off the rug on the floor, the hole is there.

That’s right, there was a hole, you won’t see it right away… The master pressed on the board, and threw back the door of the manhole, and felt the ladder down with his left hand. The clerk also gave a clay lamp to make sitting more fun. Here stood a table, a shop, a stool of rough work, a jug of water and gospel, which was something to do. Fedot went down and closed the hatch. The poha breathed well, and air was visible. The lamp was on, and the young man at first, out of forgetfulness, began to look at the pictures. I didn’t know how to read yet, although Radion Lavrentievich laughed at him without any reluctance, and the merchant’s daughter, Anastasia, showed letters, but there was no time all the time. I only remember Az, Buki da Vedi.