confounded '_moussié_;' he taught you fine things, that son of a dog,
and well worth the trouble of taking a Pagan for your servant, as if our
master had not had enough servants of his own!"

I was ashamed. I turned round and said to him--

"Go away, Savéliitch; I don't want any tea."

But it was impossible to quiet Savéliitch when once he had begun to
sermonize.

"Do you see now, Petr' Andréjïtch," said he, "what it is to commit
follies? You have a headache; you won't take anything. A man who gets
drunk is good for nothing. Do take a little pickled cucumber with honey
or half a glass of brandy to sober you. What do you think?"

At this moment a little boy came in, who brought me a note from Zourine.
I unfolded it and read as follows:--

"DEAR PETR' ANDRÉJÏTCH,

"Oblige me by sending by bearer the hundred roubles you lost to me
yesterday. I want money dreadfully.

"Your devoted

"IVÁN ZOURINE."

There was nothing for it. I assumed a look of indifference, and,
addressing myself to Savéliitch, I bid him hand over a hundred roubles