Mikhail Bulgakov. The Master and Margarita (1997) -
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mysteriousness he motioned the two friends to move closer.
They leaned towards him from both sides, and he said, but again without
any accent, which with him, devil knows why, now appeared, now disappeared:
The thing is . ..' here the professor looked around fearfully and spoke
in a whisper, 'that I was personally present at it all. I was on Pontius
Pilate's balcony, and in the garden when he talked with Kaifa, and on the
platform, only secredy, incognito, so to speak, and therefore I beg you -
not a word to anyone, total secrecy, shh . . .'
Silence fell, and Berlioz paled.
'YOU .. . how long have you been in Moscow?' he asked in a quavering
voice.
'I just arrived in Moscow this very minute,' the professor said
perplexedly, and only here did it occur to the friends to take a good look
in his eyes, at which they became convinced that his left eye, the green
one, was totally insane, while the right one was empty, black and dead.
'There's the whole explanation for you!' Berlioz thought in
bewilderment. 'A mad German has turned up, or just went crazy at the Ponds.
What a story!'
Yes, indeed, that explained the whole thing: the most strange breakfast
with the late philosopher Kant, the foolish talk about sunflower oil and
Annushka, the predictions about his head being cut off and all the rest -
the professor was mad.
Berlioz realized at once what had to be done. Leaning back on the
bench, he winked to Homeless behind the professor's back - meaning, don't
contradict him - but the perplexed poet did not understand these signals.
'Yes, yes, yes,' Berlioz said excitedly, 'incidentally it's all
possible . . . even very possible, Pontius Pilate, and the balcony, and so
forth . . . Did you come alone or with your wife?'
'Alone, alone, I'm always alone,' the professor replied bitterly.