"But I could not borrow of him--besides, if he knew it was for the
Count--and he is so rough--he would not give it to us."

"We shall see," answered the other, who knew his man. "Wait a moment. He
is still inside."

He re-entered the shop, where Fischelowitz and his wife were conversing
under the gaslight.

"I tell you," Akulina was saying, "that it is high time you got rid of
him. The new workman from Vilna will take his place, and it is positively
ridiculous to be made to submit to this madman's humours, and
impertinence. What sort of a man are you, Christian Gregorovitch, to let
the fellow carry off your Gigerl, with his airy promise to pay you the
money to-day?"

"The Gigerl was broken," observed the tobacconist.

"Oh, it could have been mended; and if it was really stolen, was that our
business, I would like to know? Nobody would ever have supposed, seeing it
in our window, that it had been stolen. And it could have been mended, as
I say, and might have been worth something after all. You never really
tried to sell it, as you ought to have done from the very first. And now
you have got nothing at all, nothing but that insolent maniac's promise.
If I were you I would take the money out of his wages, I would indeed!"

"No doubt you would," said Fischelowitz, with sincere conviction.

Meanwhile Schmidt had gone into the back shop, where Dumnoff was still
doggedly working, making up for the time he had lost by coming late in the