"What shall I tell him," said Tchichikoff to himself, and after a moment's reflection, stated, that he wanted those dead serfs for the purpose of gaining a greater influence in society, that he did not possess a large property, and that until his fortunes changed these dead serfs would be a consolation to him.
"Stuff, nonsense!" said Nosdrieff, not giving him even proper time to finish his phrase, "bosh, my dear fellow!"
Tchichikoff could not help making the observation to himself, that his invention was far from being clever, and that the pretence was a very weak one indeed.
"Well then, I will be more explicit," said he, whilst recovering himself from his first defeat, "but pray do not betray me in letting it out. I have come to the resolution of getting married; but I must tell you that the parents of my intended are very ambitious persons. 'Tis quite a bore to me. I am sorry even that I gave my promise; they insist that the future husband of their daughter should absolutely have, at least, three hundred serfs to call his Own, and as I am short of the round sum of hundred and fifty, I thought ..."
"Bosh! bosh!" Nosdrieff shouted again.
"Now, my dear fellow," said Tchichikoff, "in telling you this much, I have spoken the truth, there is not even this much of imposition in what I told you," and here he showed the extremest point of his little finger.
"I lay my head, that you told me a falsehood."
"This is offensive in reality! what do you take me for? And why should I absolutely tell a falsehood?"
"'Tis all very fine, my dear fellow, but I know you; you are a gay deceiver. Allow me to tell you something between ourselves, and quite confidentially. If I was your commander-in-chief, I should have you hanged on the first and nearest tree."
Tchichikoff felt shocked and offended at this remark, for every observation, however slightly uncivil or offensive to propriety, was highly disagreeable to him. He avoided as much as possible allowing any familiarities to be taken with him, and in extreme cases would only permit such to be taken as might be termed the most delicate. And for that reason, he was now deeply offended, and sensibly hurt at the observation made by Nosdrieff.
"By heaven I should have you hanged," repeated Nosdrieff, "I tell you this candidly, not with the intention of offending you; oh no! but simply, friendly and confidentially."
"Every thing has its limits," said Tchichikoff, with an air of dignity. "If you like to boast in such language, I would advise you to go into a barrack;" and then he added, "if you don't like to let me have them for nothing, well then sell me them."
"Sell them! but I know you well, you are a gay deceiver. You will not offer me a fair price for them?"
"Eh! you are a fine bird too! look at them! what are they to you. Do you value them like diamonds?"
"It is as I thought, when I told you that I knew you."
"Pardon me, my dear fellow, but you have quite Jewish inclinations. You ought to let me have them for nothing."
"Now then, listen, in order to show you how far you are mistaken in me, and that I am no selfish animal, I shall take nothing for my dead serfs. Buy my stallion of me, and I'll give them to you into the bargain."
"But, my dear fellow, what am I to do with a stallion?" said Tchichikoff, quite bewildered by such a proposal.
"What to do? But remember, my dear fellow, I paid ten thousand roubles for the animal, and I'll let you have him for only four thousand."
"But of what use could a stallion be to me? I do not keep a horse-breeding institution, like his most glorious Majesty our Emperor does."
"But, my dear fellow, you seem not to understand me. I'll only take three thousand roubles of you now, and as for the remaining thousand, you may pay me later at your own convenience."
"But I do not want your stallion, nor any one else's. Heaven be with the whole race!"
"Well, will you buy my hunter, the grey mare?"
"I do not want a mare either."
"For that mare, and the other grey horse you have seen in my stables, I'll only take three thousand roubles from you."
"But I do not want any horses."
"You may sell them. You are sure to get at any fair, or sale, more than three times their present value."
"Then it would be better for you to sell them yourself, if you are convinced you could get as much as three times their value."
"I am sure, I could make as much, but I wish you to derive that benefit."
Tchichikoff thanked him for the friendly intention, but obstinately refused either to have the grey mare, or the grey horse.
"Well then, will you buy some of my dogs? I'll sell you a pair with a skin as smooth as a thirty degrees frost! a spotted pair with moustachios, and upstanding hair like a pig's bristles, the roundness of their ribs is quite incomprehensible, their paws are swiftness itself, they scarcely touch the ground."
"Of what use could dogs be to me? I am not a sportsman."
"But I wish you to have some dogs. Very well, if you won't have any of my dogs, you ought to buy my organ, it is a most wonderful instrument; on my word of honour, it has cost, me more than one thousand five hundred roubles; but you shall have it for nine hundred."
"But what am I to do with an organ? I am not a German, that I should go dragging it along, and grinding it in the streets, whilst begging the passers by for alms."
"But, my dear fellow, you are mistaken, it is not an organ like the Germans carry about, it is a regular, really musical organ; just come along and look at it, it is all of mahogany. I'll show it you once more."
Hereupon Nosdrieff seized Tchichikoff by the hand, and began to pull him into the next room, and however much the other resisted by stemming his feet against the floor, and as well by persuading him that he perfectly well recollected the organ, it was of no use, and he was obliged to listen once more to the tune of Marlborough's march, and Strauss' familiar valse.
"If you don't wish to make a bargain for all cash, then listen to what I propose to you. I'll give you this organ, and as many dead serfs as I have got, and you will give me in return your britchka, and three hundred roubles in hard cash."
"What an idea! and pray, in what am I to drive home?"
"I'll give you another britchka. Come, let us go to the coach-house, I'll show it to you! You will only have to paint it afresh and it will be an excellent carriage."
"Oh, good heaven, it seems the devil has possessed him!" thought Tchichikoff within himself, and he came to the resolution, whatever the consequences might be, to decline all descriptions of britchkas, organs, and all imaginable breeds of dogs, without regard to their incomprehensible swiftness and smell.
"And, remember," added Nosdrieff, "I offer you a britchka, an organ, and all my dead serfs, the whole in a batch!"
"I won't have them!" Tchichikoff exclaimed once more.
"Why won't you have them then?"
"Simply because I won't have them, and there is an end."
"What a curious fellow you are; it would seem it is quite impossible to live on friendly terms with you, as is customary among good comrades, you are such an obstinate fellow! It is evident you are a deceitful man!"
"But for what do you take me, surely not for a fool? just reflect for a moment: why should I make the acquisition of such things as are of no earthly use whatever to me?"
"Pray don't talk. I know you now perfectly well. You are a regular box of antiquities! However, listen to me, will you play faro? I'll stake all my dead serfs on a card, and my organ in the bargain."
"Well, to venture a game, means to expose one-self to uncertainties," spoke Tchichikoff, and meanwhile he kept glancing stealthily at the pack of cards which Nosdrieff had taken in his hands again. The cards seemed to him to be of an artificial make, and the corners looked very suspicious.
"What do you mean by uncertainties?" demanded Nosdrieff. "There cannot be the least uncertainty, provided only fortune smiles on you, you may win enormously. Look here! what luck! said he," as he commenced the game of faro, in the hope of exciting a gambling passion in his guest. "What a chance! what luck! look here: thus you might win in reality! there is the confounded nine, upon which I lost all. I had a presentiment, that this card would sell my luck, and closing my eyes, I thought to myself: I am sold if that confounded card turns up."
As Nosdrieff spoke thus, Porphir entered with a fresh bottle.
But Tchichikoff positively refused either to play or to drink.
"But why won't you play at least?" demanded Nosdrieff.
"Because I am not in the humour. And besides, I must confess I am not partial to gambling."
"Why, how is this, you are not fond of gambling?"
Tchichikoff shrugged his shoulders, and added: "just so, I am not an amateur."
"You are a precious fool!"
"I can't help that, Heaven has made me so."
"You are a regular humbug! Till now, I was under the impression that you were a reputable man in some respects, but now I plainly perceive that you have not the slightest sense of propriety and good manners. It is impossible to speak to you as one would speak to a friend. You have no candour, no straightforwardness; you are the image of Sobakevitch, you are like him, a regular sneaking fellow!"
"But why do you scold me and call me all sorts of names? Is it my fault if I don't like gambling? And if you are such a man as to value such a trash as your dead serfs are, well then, sell them to me, name your price."
"Since you are such a mean fellow, you shall not have them at all! Originally,' I intended to present them to you as a token of my friendship, gratuitously, but now you shall not have them at any price! Nay, were you even to offer me a kingdom, I would not part with them. You are a shuffler, a wretched potter! From this very moment, I won't speak another word with you. Porphir, go and tell my stable-boy not to give any oats to his horses, let them feed on dry hay."
The latter determination of Nosdrieff's, Tchichikoff was far from anticipating.
"Now I could wish I had never seen you before," added Nosdrieff.
Regardless of this altercation between them, the guest and his host nevertheless sat down and took supper together, although this time there were no wines with inexpressible names put on the table. The only bottle that passed between them was a bottle of Kahetian wine, which possessed all the peculiarities of a green and sour vinegar beverage. After a silent supper, Nosdrieff led Tchichikoff into a small adjoining room in which a bed had been prepared for him.
"Here is your bed; I do not wish you even a good night's rest!"
Tchichikoff remained after Nosdrieff's departure in the most unpleasant frame of mind. He was inwardly angry with himself; he scolded himself for having accepted Nosdrieff's invitation, and thus uselessly losing his time. But what vexed him most was that he had imprudently begun to speak of his all-important object, like a child, like a fool; because this business was not of a nature to be entrusted to Nosdrieff—Nosdrieff, a man without any worth or sense; he could compromise him, he could tell stories, make additions, and spread, heaven knows what calumnies about, and thus place him in the greatest difficulties—it was neither right nor well! "I have made a regular ass of myself," said he to himself.
He spent a very sleepless night. Some very small, but also very daring insects, kept biting him unmercifully, so much so, that he could not help scratching the wounded spots, and prompted by utter agony, adding each time, "I wish you to the devil and your master, Nosdrieff, as well!" After a very short but sound slumber, he awoke very early the next morning. The first occupation he undertook was to slip into a morning-gown and into his boots, he then went across the court-yard into the stable, and ordered Selifan to put the horses immediately in his britchka. On returning from the stable he met Nosdrieff, who made his appearance also in a long morning-gown, and with a Turkish pipe in his mouth.
Nosdrieff accosted him in a friendly manner, and inquired how he had passed the night.
"Tolerably," answered Tchichikoff, rather dryly.
"And I, my dear fellow," continued Nosdrieff, "I have passed a most wretched night, I have been victimised by an army of insects, and I now feel as if I had been sleeping in a barrack. Imagine, I dreamt that I had been regularly horsewhipped, yes, truly, and by whom do you think? This you will never guess; by my intimate friends, Colonel Pozelueff and Lieutenant Kuvschinikoff."
"Yes," thought Tchichikoff to himself, "it would be an excellent thing if you were to receive a thrashing in reality."
"By heaven, and it feels painful even now! When I awoke I really felt pains all over me, and such an unpleasant itching, no doubt the confounded fleas have again been at me. You had better go now and dress yourself, and I will be with you almost immediately. I have only to go and scold my manager, the rogue."
Tchichikoff went into his room to wash and dress himself. When he had done so, he entered the dining-room, where he found the table laid with a tea service and a bottle of brandy. In this room, his eyes also met with the remains of the dinner and supper of the preceding day; it seemed as if the broom had not made its appearance there; the floor was strewn with bread crumbs, and tobacco ashes were even still lying on the table cloth.
The host himself did not fail to make his appearance soon after; he had no other dress on him but a loose Turkish morning-gown, which rather displayed than concealed his broad chest, upon which a regular beard seemed to grow freely. Holding in one hand his long Turkish pipe and in the other a cup of tea, he would have made a characteristic subject for a painter, who hates gentlemen of propriety, with curled hair, like a hairdresser's sign-board, or a head shorn à la diable m'emporte.
"Now then, what are you thinking about?" said Nosdrieff, after a momentary silence, "will you, or will you not play for my dead serfs?"
"My dear fellow, I have already told you once for all, I won't play, but if you like I am ready to buy them."
"I won't sell them, because it would not be acting in a friendly manner towards you; but I'm still disposed to play for them as long as you like. Come, let us have a turn, if but one only!"
"As I told you before, no."
"And you won't barter, either?"
"No, I won't."
"Now, listen and don't be so obstinate, let us have a game of draughts, if you win they shall all be yours; and, I remember now that I have got a number of dead serfs, that ought to be struck out from the census list of the living. Holloa, Porphir, bring me the draught-board here."
"Tis a useless trouble, I shall not play."
"But that is not playing at cards; there can be no chance or shuffling; all depends upon ingenuity. I must even tell you beforehand, that I am no player at all, and that you might as well give me a price in advance."
Tchichikoff thought to himself, "Well, I'll venture to play a game with him! I used to play once at draughts tolerably well, besides, there is no chance for him to cheat. Very well, then, in order to oblige you I'll play you a game."
"My dead serfs against a hundred roubles."
"Why? it will be high enough, if I lay fifty against them?"
"No, fifty roubles is quite a ridiculous stake. I would rather, in order to make up a round sum, include a couple of my thorough-bred dogs, or a gold watch-guard."
"Very well," Tchichikoff answered.
"How many draughtsmen will you give me in advance?" demanded Nosdrieff.
"How did you come upon this idea? certainly none."
"At least give me the two first moves."
"No, I won't, I am a bad player myself."
"I believe you, my boy, you and a bad player!" exclaimed Nosdrieff, whilst pushing forward a draughtsman.
"I have not played draughts for a long while," said Tchichikoff, whilst also advancing a draughtsman.
"I believe you, my boy, you and a bad player," said Nosdrieff, pushing forward another draughtsman.
"I have not been playing for a very long while," Tchichikoff said, also advancing a draughtsman.
"I believe you, my boy, you and a bad player," said Nosdrieff, whilst again moving a draughtsman, and at the same time he advanced a second one with the sleeve of his Turkish morning-gown.
"'Tis long ago since I took them last in my hands—oh, eh! my dear fellow, what is this? put that back!" said Tchichikoff.
"What?"
"This draughtsman there," said Tchichikoff, but at the same time he saw another before his very nose, ready to enter and become a king, but from where it came, and how it could have so suddenly advanced, it was impossible for Tchichikoff to account. "No," said Tchichikoff, rising from table, "it is impossible to play with you! To advance three draughtsmen at once is against the rules of the game altogether."
"How do you mean, three men at once? That was a mistake. One of them might have advanced accidentally, I'll move it back if you like."
"But where does that other come from?"
"Which other?"
"This one here, ready to become a king."
"Well, I'm sure, don't you recollect it?"
"Certainly not, my dear fellow, I have noticed every move, and I remember them all; you have only just now advanced it. Its place is here."
"How, where is its place?" said Nosdrieff, blushing deeply, "but, my dear fellow, it seems to me that you would like to take me in."
"No, not I, my dear fellow, but it is evident that you want to do so with me, only you are rather unsuccessful."
"For whom do you take me?" said Nosdrieff, "do you think that I could be capable of shuffling?"
"I do not take you for anybody, but from henceforth I shall never play with you again."
"But stop, you can't back out of this game, you have began it, you must play it out," said Nosdrieff hotly.
"I have the right to refuse, because you have not been playing as it becomes a gentleman."
"You lie, for you cannot prove it!"
"No, my dear fellow, it's you who are the liar!"
"I have not been shuffling, you dare not refuse to continue, and you must finish the game."
"You cannot compel me to do that," said Tchichikoff coolly, and approaching the table, he upset the draughtsmen.
Nosdrieff jumped from his seat in a rage, and drew so close to Tchichikoff that he made him step back two paces.
"I shall oblige you to play it out. It matters little, that the draughtsmen are mixed. I remember every move. We will arrange them again as they were."
"No, my dear fellow, there is an end to it, I shall not play with you."
"Then you positively refuse to finish the game?"
"You must allow yourself that it is impossible to play with you."
"Now, you obstinate fellow, tell me once more, will you or will you not play?" spoke Nosdrieff wildly, whilst walking still closer up to Tchichikoff.
"I will not!" Tchichikoff exclaimed, but at the same time he raised his hands towards his face ready for any contingency, because the matter threatened to become rather hot. This precaution was taken in good time, because Nosdrieff in his excitement had raised his hand, and it might easily have happened, that one of the full and agreeable cheeks of our hero, would have been covered with dishonour, which could not be washed away; but he fortunately succeeded in escaping the blow, and seized the madly infuriated Nosdrieff by both hands, and held him tightly.
"Porphir! Ivan!" shouted Nosdrieff in his madness, whilst striving to liberate himself from Tchichikoff's powerful grasp.
Hearing these names, Tchichikoff, in order not to have the servants witnesses to a scandalous scene, and feeling convinced also, that to holding Nosdrieff any longer would be of no advantage to him, he let loose his hands. At that same moment, Porphir entered the room followed by Ivan, a herculean looking fellow, with whom it would not have been advisable to pick a quarrel.
"Then you refuse to finish the game?" said Nosdrieff. "Give me a positive answer quickly, you obstinate blockhead!"
"It is impossible to finish the game," answered Tchichikoff, and looked out of the window at the same time; he beheld his britchka, which was standing there quite ready, and Selifan seemed to wait but for a signal to drive up to the door; but it was impossible for Tchichikoff to leave the room, the door was guarded by two powerful slaves and tools of Nosdrieffs.
"Then you positively refuse to finish the game?" demanded again Nosdrieff, with a face as red hot as fire.
"If you had been playing as becomes a gentleman, I would have finished it, but now I cannot."
"Ah! you say you cannot, you humbug, when you see that you are likely to lose the game, then it is that you cannot play! Horsewhip him," he shouted, in a hoarse and infuriated voice, whilst turning towards Porphir and Ivan, and seizing himself a long cherry pipe tube. Tchichikoff became as pale and white as a sheet. He had evidently an intention to say something, but he felt, that his lips moved without speaking a word.
"Horsewhip him!" Nosdrieff again shouted, rushing forward, with the cherry tube uplifted in his hand, all excited and perspiring, as if he was about to storm an impregnable fortress. "Beat him!" he shouted in the same voice with which, in the heat of an onset some valorous lieutenant would address his men and say, "forward, children," and whose daring has become so well known throughout the regiment, that special orders are always given that he should be kept back with the rear guard, whenever an action of importance is undertaken.
But the fortress, against which Nosdrieff was storming, was far from being impregnable, on the contrary, its outworks betrayed her inward weakness, and its fear was so great, that the commander-in-chief—the soul—went to hide himself in his heels.
The chair with which Tchichikoff attempted to defend himself, was wrenched from his hands by Nosdrieff's serfs, and bereft of this last hope he closed his eyes and felt neither dead nor alive, yet he tried to grasp once more at the Tcherkessian pipe of his brutal host, and heaven knows, what the consequences might have been. But providence seemed to pity the position as well as the ribs, shoulders, and all the well-formed portions of our hero.
At this unexpected yet opportune moment, the sounds of post-horse bells were heard loudly ringing in the court-yard, and the wheels of a carriage rolled quickly over the stones before the entrance of the house. It was a telega, drawn by three horses, that had arrived so suddenly; shortly after, heavy footsteps were heard quickly approaching the room in which the actors of our present narrative were so dramatically collected.
They all looked involuntarily out of the window, and beheld a stranger in moustachios, dressed in a half military and half plain coat, alighting from the telega. Having taken his information in the anteroom, he entered at the very moment when Tchichikoff had not yet recovered from his stupefaction, and when he was in the most pitiable position in which a mortal man can possibly be.
"Allow me to ask which of you two gentlemen is Mr. Nosdrieff," said the stranger, looking with some astonishment at Nosdrieff, who stood there with the cherry pipe tube in his uplifted hand, and then at Tchichikoff, who had scarcely begun to recover from his disadvantageous position.
"Allow me first to ask you with whom I have the honour of speaking?" said Nosdrieff, whilst approaching the stranger.
"I am a commissioner of the military police."
"And what do you wish?"
"I come to inform you that in obedience to higher commands, I shall consider you my prisoner until proper inquiries will have been instituted into the affair in which you are compromised."
"What nonsense! What affair do you mean?" demanded Nosdrieff.
"You were inculpated in an affair, or rather a riot, in which a certain lieutenant of the guards, by name Maksimoff was insulted and even horsewhipped, whilst in a state of intoxication."
"That is perfectly false, Sir! I never saw in the whole course of my life your lieutenant Maksimoff!"
"My dear Sir, allow me to inform you that I am an officer. You may call your servants liars but not me."
Tchichikoff did not wait to hear what Nosdrieff would reply to this observation, but seized his cap, passed stealthily behind the back of the commissary of the military police, and left the room. He was soon seated in his britchka, and ordered Selifan to drive off as fast as his horses could gallop.
Our hero was still considerably terrified at the thought of his narrow escape. Although the britchka was literally flying at a fearful speed, and Nosdrieff's village nearly lost in the distance, hidden by fields, slopes and hills, yet he still continued to turn round, and cast glances of terror behind him, as if expecting to see suddenly his pursuers.
His breathing was short and interrupted, and when he laid his hand upon his broad breast to feel the beating of his heart, he felt it throbbing like that of a quail in a cage.
"Oh! what a regular shower-bath! How could I ever expect that of the fellow!" Such exclamations were followed by a variety of difficult and strong wishes for the future of Nosdrieff, and were concluded by epithets certainly not of the choicest language.
"Say what I may," Tchichikoff remarked confidentially to himself, "without the sudden appearance of the commissioner of the military police, I might at this present moment be one less among the living in this world! I should have disappeared like a bubble on the ocean, without leaving a trace behind me, no heirs or children to inherit my honourable name, my modest fortune!" Our hero seemed very anxious and concerned about his successors.
"What a nasty gentleman!" thought Selifan. "I have never seen such an ill-disposed man before. He deserves to be despised. I could rather see a man without food, but a horse must be fed because a horse likes oats. That is the proper food for his maintenance. What meat is to us, so is oats to the horse, and that is the proper food for horses."
The horses also seemed to have a bad opinion of Nosdrieff; not only the leader and the brown horse, but even the tiger-spotted idler seemed to be in bad humour. Although the idler was used to receive less good oats generally, and was also accustomed never to have them given to him by Selifan, without being previously called a rogue, yet in this instance he seemed quite disgusted; for notwithstanding the scolding he received his fair portion of oats, and not as now, common hay; he used to eat his bad oats with pleasure, and after, even put his enormous head into the crib of his comrades to see what good things they were enjoying. This he did especially when Selifan was not in the stable; but now they had had nothing else but hay, that was bad; all three were dissatisfied.
But soon after, the whole batch of malcontents were suddenly and unexpectedly interrupted in the effusion of their wrath against Nosdrieff in an unexpected manner. All, not excluding even the coachman, recovered and came to their senses again, when they felt themselves in contact with a travelling-carriage, drawn by six powerful horses, and heard the shrieks of ladies sitting inside, and the scolding and swearing of the strange coachman.
"Oh, you scoundrel! did I not shout to you as loudly as possible! Turn to the right, you crow! Are you drunk, or what else is the matter with you?"
Selifan felt at once that he was on the wrong side, but as a Russian does not like to acknowledge his error before another, he therefore shouted forth his reply with an air of importance:
"And what do you mean by driving like a madman? Have you, perhaps, left your eyes in pawn at a dram-shop?"
After having spoken thus, he endeavoured to back his britchka, trying to liberate his horses, which had become entangled with those of the other carriage; however, he only succeeded in making things worse.
The ladies sitting in the carriage looked at the scene of confusion before them with the utmost terror expressed upon their faces. The one was an elderly lady; the other, a young person about sixteen years of age, with golden ringlets, very tastefully arranged around a pretty face and head. The charming oval of her face was as evenly formed as a new-laid egg, and, like it, it possessed that peculiar transparent whiteness which is only to be seen in a new-laid egg, when held up towards the light by the gentle hand of a clever housekeeper, who is examining its freshness by allowing the rays of the sun to shine through it; her finely-shaped ears seemed also equally transparent, and were intersected by warmly-flowing veins. From the sudden fright, her rosy lips had opened to display a range of ivory teeth, and tears were sparkling in her eyes. All this was so charming in her, that our hero glanced at her for some moments quite motionless, and paying no attention whatever to the dispute which had arisen between the two coachmen and their horses.
"Will you back your horses, you Novgorodian crow?" shouted the strange coachman.
Selifan tugged at his reins; the strange driver did as much, and the horses, in obedience to the impulse, retreated a little, and then came into contact again, were anew entangled, and the confusion was greater than before.
While the confusion was thus growing worse confounded, some peasants began to gather round the carriages and horses; they came running as fast as they could from an adjoining village; and as such a sight is for a Russian peasant like a Christmas-box, or like a newspaper and a glass of stout would be to an Englishman, so but little time elapsed before the carriages were both surrounded by a few hundred gaping mouzhiks, and the village was left to the care of only old women and young children. The entangled traces were soon cut; a few heavy blows applied to the head of the tiger-spotted idler made him retreat; in a word, the horses were soon separated and led aside.
The interest and the curiosity of the gaping peasants rose to an incredible degree. Every one of them was anxious to give an advice or a suggestion:
"You go, Andrushka, and lead that front horse a little about, the one that is standing on the right-hand side from us; and Uncle Mitja would do well to mount the tiger-spotted animal! Get on his back, Mitja!"
During the time that Selifan and the strange coachman were arranging the traces of their respective horses, Tchichikoff had continued to look very attentively at the young lady stranger. He made an attempt to address her several times, but, somehow or another, he thought there was no favourable opportunity. Meanwhile, the ladies drove off, the pretty head, and face with the fine outlines, the slender figure, all disappeared like an apparition; and there remained nothing but the high-road, the britchka, the three horses already familiar to our reader, Selifan, and the level and empty fields surrounding them.
"A charming little woman!" said he, whilst opening his snuff-box, and taking a pinch of snuff. "But what is the most handsome thing about her? It is pleasant to see, that she seems just to have left a boarding-school, or some such institution, and that there is yet nothing womanly, or rather matronly about her, and that is one of the most unpleasing features in the sex. She is still like a child, all in her is still natural, she will speak what she thinks, she will laugh at every thing that pleases her. She might yet be taught any thing and every thing, she might become an accomplished and virtuous woman, and she might also turn out the very contrary. If she now happens to come under the control and advice of her mother or aunts, then farewell natural innocence! In a year they will have changed her so completely by instilling into her, what they are pleased to term the dignities of a woman, that her own father will have every difficulty to recognise, in that young person, his own daughter.
"From the elder ladies, she will derive conceitedness and affected manners, move about according to the dictates of fashion, torment her brains to know, with whom, about what, and how much she might venture to speak, and especially how to look at them; every moment she will be alarmed least she should speak more than is strictly necessary. At last, she will become confused from so much unnatural exertion, and dissimulation will become natural to her, and then—heaven knows what she may come to next!"
Having spoken thus much to himself, Tchichikoff remained silent for some moments, and then he added:
"It would be rather satisfactory to know who she is? Yes, what her father might be? Is he perhaps a rich landed proprietor of high respectability, or simply a respectable man with a large fortune acquired in serving his country? Because, let me suppose, that this pretty little girl receives but five thousand roubles as a marriage gift, she would become a most acceptable, nay a very enticing little woman. And this would constitute, so to say, the happiness of a respectable man."
The sum of five thousand roubles represented itself so attractively to his mind, that he began to scold himself inwardly for not having obtained some information about who the ladies were from their coachman, during the time that the confusion among the horses lasted. Soon after, however, the appearance of Sobakevitch's village began to distract his attention from the ladies, and he returned to his friend and more serious purposes.
The village seemed to him tolerably large, and even of importance; there were two forests, the one of birch-trees, the other of pines, the one of a gay colour, the other dark, spread out like wings on the right and left of the village; in the centre of it stood a large wooden building with a balcony, a roof with red tiles, and dark grey painted walls, the style of architecture reminding one of a barrack, or the primitive buildings of German emigrants.
It was evident that the builder of this house must have been in continual opposition to the taste of the owner. The builder was a pedant, and adhered to symmetry, the owner preferred conformity to the purpose, and, thus it seemed that in consequence of the differences of taste, the lawful lord of the mansion had blocked up the windows of the whole of one of the fronts of the house, and left only a small aperture instead, no doubt to serve as a skylight to some lumber-room.
The principal entrance to the house stood by no means in the centre, notwithstanding the good intents of the architect, because the owner of it had ordered one of the side columns to be removed and thus the principal entrance did not display as originally intended four columns, but only three. The whole of the court-yard was enclosed by a strong and unusually thick wooden wall. The proprietor seemed to have been particularly concerned about everything being of the greatest possible durability.
Upon the construction of his stables, penthouse and kitchen, he had employed full grown and heavy logs calculated to last an eternity. The houses of his peasants in the village were also of a wonderfully strong and lasting construction, they nowhere displayed any of the common gingerbread ornaments, but every one of them was a solid mass of logs of wood. Even the wall was enclosed by such large stems of fir as would only be employed as sleepers for a railway, or in the construction of ships. In a word, upon whatever kind of building Tchichikoff happened to cast a glance, his sight met with a pièce de résistance, unmistakeable, presenting a durable but clumsy appearance.
On driving up to the entrance-hall, Tchichikoff beheld two faces at once, looking out through the window: the one was a feminine face, narrow and long, like a cucumber; the other was the round face of a man, broad like a Moldavian pumpkin, out of which our Russian peasants are accustomed to make their light and two-stringed balalaikas, the charming instrument with which, some handsome cock of the village will on a fine summer's evening gather young and old around him, and sing and whistle some merry ditty to the white-bosomed maiden of his heart, who delights in the slow and melancholy strains of his music.
The two faces which had just presented themselves at the window disappeared again suddenly. A servant, dressed in a grey jacket with a blue upstanding collar, came out upon the landing and led Tchichikoff into a reception-room, in which soon after the host himself made his appearance. Perceiving and recognizing who his guest was, the host exclaimed abruptly: "Pray, enter!" and he led him into the interior of his house.
As Tchichikoff cast a side glance upon Sobakevitch, the man seemed to him very much like a bear of the middle size. To complete this resemblance, he wore a coat perfectly of the colour of a bear's skin, with large sleeves, and a pair of large inexpressibles. His walk was by starts, sideways and bent together, and he was in the continual habit of treading upon other people's feet. His complexion was of a glowing, hot colour, like that of a new penny.
Tchichikoff glanced once more and stealthily at him as they were passing the dining-room; "A bear, a complete bear!" he thought to himself. It was impossible to conceive a more striking resemblance. Knowing that he had the habit of trampling upon other persons' feet, our hero was very careful how he placed his, and allowed him to walk before him. The host seemed to feel the sin of his awkwardness and immediately turned round and said, "Have I, by any chance, hurt you?" But Tchichikoff thanked him, and said, "That as yet he had not felt any inconvenience."
On entering the reception-room, Sobakevitch pointed to an arm-chair, saying again, abruptly, "Pray be seated!" In sitting down Tchichikoff looked at the walls and the pictures that were hanging on them. The pictures all represented finely grown men, apparently the leaders of the last struggle for Hellenic independence; they were full-sized engravings; Mavrocordato in a pair of red breeches and military dress, with a pair of spectacles upon his nose; Miaouli and Kanaris.
All these heroes were represented with such enormous ties-and extraordinary moustachios, that the sight of them made Tchichikoff shudder. Among the heroic Hellenes there was also the portrait of the Russian General Bagration, memorable for his services in the year 1812, a meagre, careworn old man; heaven knows why he had been placed among these dashing heroes. Next came the portrait of the Grecian heroine, Bobelina, whose foot seemed to be larger than the whole trunk of any of the fashionables of our present drawing-rooms.
The host being a healthy and strong-built man himself, seemed to like that his rooms should also be adorned with the portraits of strong and healthy persons. Close to the Grecian heroine, Bobelina, and quite close to the window, hung a cage, from which a well-fed blackbird was peeping out, which was also very much like Sobakevitch.
The guest and host had not been silent for two minutes, when the door suddenly opened and the lady hostess made her appearance, a lady of a very high figure, in a cap profusely ornamented with ribbons, which seemed to have been dyed at home. She entered the room very ceremoniously, holding her head as straight as a palm-tree.
"This is my beloved Pheodulia Ivanovna!" said Sobakevitch.
Tchichikoff respectfully approached Pheodulia Ivanovna, and according to Russian fashion, kissed her hand, which she nearly pushed between his lips, at the same time he had an opportunity to observe, or rather smell, that her hands had been washed in salt cucumber water.
"My darling, allow me to introduce you to Pavel Ivanovitch Tchichikoff!" continued Sobakevitch, "I had the honour of making his acquaintance at our Lord-Lieutenant's, and at the Postmaster-general's."
Pheodulia Ivanovna asked Tchichikoff to sit down, saying also very abruptly, "I beg you will be seated!" and making a peculiar movement with her head, not unlike that of an actress playing a tragedy queen. After having done this, she seated herself upon the sofa, covered herself with a merino shawl, and did not again move either her eyes or her lips.
Tchichikoff lifted up his eyes again and beheld once more the Grecian hero, Kanaris, with his enormous ties and interminable moustachios, as well as the heroine, Bobelina, and the blackbird in its cage.
For more than five minutes all three remained silent; the only sign of animation proceeded from the blackbird, who was pecking the wood of his cage with his beak, and gathering the bread crumbs on the bottom of it. Tchichikoff glanced once more around the room, and all, whatever his eyes beheld—all was solid, clumsy, and tasteless in the highest degree, and had a particular and strange resemblance to the host himself; in one of the corners of the room, there stood a large paunch-bellied nutwood bureau, upon four shapeless legs, a perfect bear. The table, the arm-chairs, the common chairs, all were of the most heavy and uncomfortable description, in a word, every article which constituted the furniture of this room seemed to speak; and I am also Sobakevitch!
"We have been thinking of you at the house of the President of the Courts of Justice, Ivan Gregorievitch," at last said Tchichikoff, perceiving that no one seemed inclined to break the silence and begin to speak, "we thought of you on Thursday last. I spent a very pleasant evening there."
"True, I was not at the President's on that evening," answered Sobakevitch.
"He is an excellent and worthy man!" exclaimed Tchichikoff.
"Whom do you mean?" said Sobakevitch, looking at the corner of his store.
"The President of the Courts of Justice, to be sure."
"Well, he might have seemed so to you; he is a freemason, and such a fool, that the world cannot produce his equal."
Tchichikoff was rather startled when he heard this cutting qualification of a person he knew, but recovering immediately from his surprise, he continued: "To be sure, every man has his foibles, but I cannot help expressing my admiration for the Governor-General."
"The Lord-Lieutenant, a man worthy of admiration?"
"Yes, and I hope you will agree with me in that opinion?"
"He is the greatest scoundrel on the face of the earth."
"What did you say? the Governor-General the greatest scoundrel?" exclaimed Tchichikoff, perfectly incapable of comprehending how the Lord-Lieutenant of the government of Smolensk could possibly have entered the ranks of scoundrels.
"I must confess, I should never have believed that," he continued. "However, allow me to observe, his actions do not at all seem such, on the contrary, I should rather say that I believe him a man who possesses many pleasant weaknesses." Here he also alluded to the knitting and embroidery talents of his Excellency the Lord-Lieutenant of the province, as an authority for his opinion of him, and expressed himself in the highest terms of the winning expression of the Governor-General's countenance.
"And his face even, is that of a scoundrel!" said Sobakevitch. "Only place a knife in his hands, and let him free upon the high road, he will cut your throat, he will murder you even for a copek! He and the Vice-Governor, also, are of the same cast, they both are Gog and Magog."
"No, I cannot be mistaken, he is not on good terms with them," thought Tchichikoff to himself. "And I think I shall do better to speak to him about the Chief of the Police force, he seems to be his friend."
"However, as far as I am personally concerned," he said, "I must confess that I like the Chief Commissioner of the Police force better than any other dignitary in Smolensk. He is such a straightforward and candid man, his face speaks in his favour, and proclaims his kindness of heart."
"He is a rogue," said Sobakevitch very coolly, "he will sell you, betray you, and then even dine with you! I know them all but too well; they are all great rogues, the whole town of Smolensk is inhabited by such men; a rogue sitting on a rogue, and driving on a batch of rogues. All are Christian sellers. To my knowledge, there is but one honest man among them, and that man is the Imperial Procurator; but even he, if we were to judge him strictly, even he is a pig."
After such laudatory, though rather short biographies, Tchichikoff perceived that it would be useless to mention any other of the dignitaries of Smolensk, and then only he recollected that Sobakevitch was not in the habit of having a good opinion of any one.
"Come, my darling, let us now go to dinner," said the worthy spouse, Lady Sobakevitch, to her husband.
"Allow me to invite you to dinner," said Sobakevitch. After saying which he advanced towards a table, upon which an introductory meal had been placed; the host and his guest each drank, as is customary, a small glass of brandy, and had a bit of salt fish, or some such appetite-stimulating foretastes, and in doing thus, they but did what is customary in every town and village throughout the vast Russian Empire; thus excited and prepared, they entered the dining-room, into which they followed the hostess, who led them on like a goose her goslings.
A small table was laid for four persons. The fourth place was soon occupied, but it was difficult to say affirmatively by whom, whether that person was a lady or a girl, relation, a guest or friend living in the house; she was not adorned with a cap, was about thirty years of age, and wore a variegated dress.
"Your cabbage-soup, my darling, is delicious to-day," said Sobakevitch to his wife, whilst cutting and helping himself to a second enormous piece of stuffing, and putting it into his soup. This stuffing, as it might be called, for want of a better denomination in the English language, is a well-known dish in every Russian household, and is always served together with the national sour cabbage-soup; it is made of the ventricles, head, and feet of a sheep, and stuffed with buck-wheat grits.
"Such stuffing," he continued, turning towards Tchichikoff, "you could not get to eat in town, where they have the habit of serving you with Heaven knows what stuff!"
"The Lord-Lieutenant's dinners, however, are not so contemptible," said Tchichikoff.
"Do you know how and of what stuff his dinners are made? If you knew it, I'm sure you would not eat them."
"I do not know how they are prepared, and therefore cannot judge; but his pork-chops and boiled flounders were delicious."
"It seemed so to you. But I know well what they buy in the market. Their cook, the impudent fellow, who seems to have learnt his art in France, is capable of buying a cat, skinning it, roasting it, and serving it up as a hare."
"Fie! what an unpleasant allusion you make," said his wife.
"And why so, my dear? it is a fact, and I am sure they do that, if not even worse. All that we would throw away in our country kitchen, the town people would put in their soup, and find it even a delicacy—yes, a delicacy. Such is their taste!"
"You are always in the habit of talking such nonsense at table," said his wife, with an evident air of displeasure.
"Why, my heart," said Sobakevitch, "if I was to do it myself, it would be a different thing; but I tell you candidly that I will never eat any of their stuff. You may cover a frog with a crust of sugar, and yet I would not take it into my mouth, nor what they call oysters; I know what oysters are like."
"Take some mutton," he continued, addressing himself to Tchichikoff; "this is a shoulder of mutton with grits. This is not a stew, as they make it in town kitchens, where they employ mutton which has been offered for sale for three or four days in the market."
Hereupon Sobakevitch shook his head angrily, whilst adding:
"When I am to have some roast or boiled pork, let me have the whole pig on the table; if some mutton, I want to look at the whole animal; if a goose, let me have the whole bird. I would rather feed on ope dish, but feed to my heart's content."
Sobakevitch confirmed this principle by the deed: he placed the half of the shoulder of mutton on his plate, ate it all, picked and licked over the bones to the last.
"Yes," thought Tchichikoff to himself, "his lips are as good as his mouth."
"It is not so with me," said Sobakevitch, whilst wiping his hands and mouth on a napkin, "it is not with me as it is with a Pluschkin; he has eight hundred serfs, but eats a worse dinner than any of my shepherds."
"Who is this Pluschkin?" inquired Tchichikoff.
"A scoundrel," answered Sobakevitch. "His avarice is so great that you cannot form an idea of it. A prisoner lives better than him. He nearly starves all his peasants."
"Really!" Tchichikoff exclaimed, with evident interest; "and you believe that many of his serfs have died from want?"
"They die like flies."
"Do they really! But allow me to ask you, how far he lives from your estate?"
"About five wersts."
"About five wersts!" Tchichikoff exclaimed again, and even felt a perceptible pulsation of the heart. "But if I was to drive out of your court-yard, would it be on the right or on the left-hand side?"
"I would not advise you even to know the road to that dog's kennel!" said Sobakevitch. "It is more excusable to visit some forbidden place, than the house of such a man as Pluschkin."
"Oh no, I did not ask that for any particular purpose; but simply because I take an interest in knowing something about places and positions of every description," was the reply of Tchichikoff.
After the shoulder of mutton followed some flounders, of which each was considerably larger than the plates; then a turkey, nearly of the size of a young calf, stuffed with all kinds of good things—with eggs, rice, liver, and a variety of other condiments, which all had been pressed into the fowl's stomach.
With the turkey, the dinner had an end; but when they rose from the table, Tchichikoff felt heavier by at least half a hundredweight. They entered the reception-room, where some sweetmeats, such as pears, cherries, strawberries and other berries, preserved in sugar or honey, were displayed on small china plates; however, neither the guest nor the host could or would touch any. The lady hostess left the room for the purpose of displaying some other kind upon other small plates, in the hope that her guest would like to taste some of them. Profiting by her momentary absence, Tchichikoff turned towards Sobakevitch, who was lying in an arm-chair, and groaning after such a more than copious dinner, and allowing some indistinct sounds to escape from his mouth, using the one hand to make the sign of the cross, and holding the other before his mouth. Tchichikoff addressed him in the following words:
"I should have liked to speak to you about a certain little business."
"Here are some more sweetmeats," said the hostess, returning with some few small plates; "these are very rare fruits, and preserved in honey."
"Very well, my darling, we'll taste them later," said Sobakevitch. "You had better now return into your own room, for Pavel Ivanovitch and myself are going to take off our coats and rest ourselves a little."
Lady Sobakevitch offered to send in some soft pillows, but her husband opposed it, and answered her, "Never mind, we will take our rest in these arm-chairs;" and the lady left the room.
Sobakevitch bent his head slightly on one side, prepared to hear what the little business consisted in.
Tchichikoff began to speak, but his argument was of a very obscure nature; he alluded in very general terms to the whole Russian Empire, and expressed himself in terms of great praise about its territorial extent, and said, that even the ancient Roman Empire was far less in extent and power, and that other nations are justly surprised at the magnitude of the largest Empire in the world.
Sobakevitch continued to listen, with his head bent on one side.
And that, according to existing statutes of this vast empire—the grandeur of which has no equal—the census population, namely, those who have to pay a capitation tax, though hundreds and thousands of them have already, since then; terminated their worldly existence, remain still upon the lists, and are taxed until the next census be taken—a period of fifty years—on a par with the living; although, and it must not be forgotten, that, as a medium of equalization, the new-born population within the space of these fifty years is not liable to any taxation before the next census be taken again; and this was done for the purpose of not over-burthening the imperial administrations with too many difficult and tedious regulations, but principally to avoid as far as possible any additional complication of the already over-complicated mechanism of the imperial administrations.
Sobakevitch still listened with his head bent on one side.
And, that notwithstanding the justice and efficiency of this measure, it yet presented but too numerous instances of heavy burthen and great expense to the majority of landed proprietors, obliging them to pay the tax for both their dead serfs as well as for their living subjects, and that he, Tchichikoff, feeling a particular and personal regard for him, Sobakevitch, was willing to undertake the payment of this burthensome capitation tax for the dead, in consequence of his unfeigned esteem and friendship for him. As regards the principal objects themselves, Tchichikoff expressed himself very carefully indeed; in alluding to them, he never called them dead serfs, but not existing, poor souls.
During the whole period of Tchichikoff's speech, Sobakevitch had continued to listen silently as before, with his head slightly inclined on one side, and not even once was there the slightest change in his countenance, or a different expression visible in his face. It seemed as if this body had no soul, or as if it was not at all where it ought to have been; like an indefatigable miser, he seemed to have hidden it in some secret corner, and covered with such an impenetrable shell, that whatever battered upon its surface could not stir or move the kernel within.
"And thus," said Tchichikoff, awaiting a reply with some degree of anxious expectation.
"You want some dead serfs?" demanded Sobakevitch, simply, without the slightest emotion or surprise, as if the question was about bread, salt, or meat.
"Yes," answered Tchichikoff; and again he softened down the expression, adding, "the non existing ones."
"I can let you have some; why not?" said Sobakevitch.
"And, since you have some, I have no doubt you will be glad to get rid of them?"
"With pleasure; I am ready to sell them," said Sobakevitch, whilst slightly raising his head, for he began to suspect that the purchaser would undoubtedly know how to derive an advantage from his speculation.
"The devil!" thought Tchichikoff to himself, "this man wants to sell them before I have made him an offer to purchase any!" and he then said aloud: "And what would your price he? although I must confess that the objects are such, that it is rather strange to speak of a price."
"Well then, and in order not to ask a high price from you, I will fix them at a hundred roubles a-piece," said Sobakevitch.
"A hundred roubles!" exclaimed Tchichikoff, opening his mouth widely, and looking him straight into the eyes, not knowing whether he had heard rightly, or whether Sobakevitch's tongue, prompted by his heavy intelligence, had tripped, and pronounced accidentally one word for another.
"Well, is that too dear for you?" articulated Sobakevitch; and then he added: "But allow me to ask, what would your price be?"
"My price! We have, no doubt, misunderstood one another; we seem to have forgotten what our subject is. As far as I am concerned, and laying my hand upon my heart, one rouble would be the fairest price I could offer you."
"Halloa! what a ridiculous price, to be sure, one rouble!"
"Why, according to my judgment, and as I think, I could not give more."
"But remember, I do not sell you any cat's-paws."
"However, you must agree; they are not any real men."
"That is your opinion; but go and find me such a fool, who would agree to sell you a census serf for a single rouble."
"But allow me to ask you, why do you call them census serfs? They are dead long since, nothing remains of them but an incomprehensible sound in their appellation. However, in order to avoid the trouble of entering more particularly in a discussion on abstract matters, I am ready to offer you one rouble and a half, but more I really could not."
"You ought to be ashamed to offer me such a price! You like to drive a bargain; well then, tell me your real price."
"I really cannot offer you more, my dear Michael Semenovitch, believe me, on my honour, I cannot. What cannot be done that might be done?' said Tchichikoff; yet, notwithstanding, he made an addition of half a rouble.
"Why are you so niggardly?" said Sobakevitch; "it is really not dear. Another scoundrel would cheat you; he would not sell you real serfs like I do, but some worthless stuff; all mine are like green hazel-nuts, all picked men; and if they are not artizans by profession, still they are strong, healthy, and fit for everything. Just let us examine them a little. There is, for an example, my former cart-maker, Micheeff; he never worked at anything less than a spring-cart. And, if you please, not such workmanship as they sell you at Moscow, which lasts for an hour, and not longer; oh no, his work was of first-rate durability, and besides, he used to do the carving and polishing work as well."
Tchichikoff opened his mouth, with the intention of making the observation, that the peasant Micheeff, the spring-cart maker, had already left this world for some time; but Sobakevitch entered suddenly, as the phrase goes, with spirit into the nature of the subject, Heaven only knows whence he derived his power of language and vigour of expression; however, he continued:
"And my Stephan, the joiner! I'd wager my head, that you cannot find me another peasant like he was. He was a regular Hercules! If he had served in the guards, he would have been one of the finest soldiers in the regiment, he was above seven feet high!"
Tchichikoff was again on the point of making the observation, that Stephan had also departed this world; but Sobakevitch, as it appeared, was carried away by his subject, his flow of language was not easily to be stopped, now was the time to listen to him.
"Milushkin, the potter, was capable of putting you a stove in any part of the house. Again, Maxim Teliatnikoff, the shoemaker; whatever he pierced with his awl, became a pair of boots, and whatever boots he made, for such I paid him the compliment of a thank you. And Germei Sorokopleokin! I can assure you that this fellow alone was worth all the others, he used to hawk about in Moscow, and paid me an annual quit-rent of five hundred roubles. Such were the people, and far from such stuff as you might buy from a fellow like Pluschkin."
"But allow me to observe," Tchichikoff at last said, quite bewildered by such an abundance of words, to which there promised now to be no end, "why do you enumerate all their former professions? all these qualities are of no use to them or others now, because all these people are dead, at this time being."
"Oh, yes, to be sure, they are dead," said Sobakevitch, as if considering and recollecting suddenly, that they were in reality all dead and gone, and then he added, "however, I must observe, what are the people now reckoned as living? yes, what are these people? flies, but not men!"
"But for all that they exist, and that is a point of imagination."
"Oh no, not at all a point of imagination! I will describe to you what a fellow my Micheeff was, and I am sure you will not be able to find many more like him; he was of such a size, that he could not have entered this room, and that is no point of imagination! And in his shoulders, he possessed such power as you will rarely meet with in a horse; I am therefore curious to know where you could find such another point of imagination?"
"No, really, I could not offer you any more than two roubles," Tchichikoff said again.
"Very well, then, and in order to be agreeable to you, and that you might not pretend that I demanded too high a price, and that I would not oblige you, you shall have them at seventy-five roubles each dead serf, but all in bank notes, and I really do it all out of friendship for you."
"Does he really take me for a fool," thought Tchichikoff to himself, and then added aloud: "All this seems very strange to me; it would appear that we are playing a comedy, else I really could not explain how—you seem to be a man of sound judgment, you can pretend to a superior education, don't you therefore see and understand, that the object in question is simply, phu, phu! what is it really worth? who could make use of it?"
"But you wish to purchase them, I think it therefore obvious that you want them."
When Tchichikoff heard this, he bit his lips, and could not find an answer. He began to mutter something about family connexions and household circumstances, but Sobakevitch interrupted him, and said simply:
"I do not want to know anything about your circumstances, I never mix in family concerns, all that is your own affair. You stand in want of serfs, I am ready to sell some, and I may add, you will be dissatisfied with yourself if you don't buy them of me."
"Well then, two roubles," said Tchichikoff.
"What a curious man you are; you seem to have fixed upon two, and now you cannot get off them. Offer me your last price."
"May the devil take him," thought Tchichikoff to himself, "I will give him half a rouble more, and make the proverb true, for the dog to buy nuts with!
"Very well then, I offer you half a rouble more."
"Now then, I will also tell you my last word; fifty roubles I really it is a loss to me, you will not buy them cheaper anywhere, especially such excellent peasants as they were!"
"What a fist that man is to be sure," said Tchichikoff to himself, and then he continued aloud with a slight degree of anger:
"Really, I must confess, it was ridiculous to treat the matter as serious, because in many another place I could get dead serfs for nothing. Many a one would be extremely glad to give them to me, and thus get rid of them as soon as possible. A fool would he be indeed, who after my offer would still persist to keep them and continue to pay the capitation tax."
"But do you know also, that purchases of this description—I say this between ourselves, and in good friendship—are not always safe and practicable; and if I, or any one else was to mention them to a third party, such a person could get himself into great difficulties, and expose himself to lose all confidence for the future, as regards trust in contracts or any other business transactions."
"Oh, the rascal, that is what he is aiming at," thought Tchichikoff, and here he spoke with an air of great unconcern, "as you like, my dear Sir, I wish to buy them, not for any particular purpose, as you seem to suppose, but simply from a fancy, an inclination of my own. If you won't accept two roubles and a half then, fare you well!"
"I shall not be able to confuse him: he is obstinate," thought Sobakevitch. "Heaven be with you! give me thirty and take them all!"
"No, I perceive you don't wish to sell them. Farewell!"
"Stop, stop! wait a little!" exclaimed Sobakevitch, holding him by the hand, and treading upon his feet, because our hero had forgotten to take care of himself, and as a punishment for it, he was obliged to limp upon one leg.