side of the door were two loose boxes for a pair of grey horses. Peter
Nikolaevich stretched out his hand in their direction--one box was
empty. He put out his foot--the horse might have been lying down. But
his foot did not touch anything solid. "Where could they have taken the
horse?" he thought. They certainly had not harnessed it; all the sledges
stood still outside. Peter Nikolaevich went out of the stable.

"Stepan, come here!" he called.

Stepan was the head of the workmen's gang. He was just stepping out of
the cottage.

"Here I am!" he said, in a cheerful voice. "Oh, is that you, Peter
Nikolaevich? Our men are coming."

"Why is the stable door open?

"Is it? I don't know anything about it. I say, Proshka, bring the
lantern!"

Proshka came with the lantern. They all went to the stable, and Stepan
knew at once what had happened.

"Thieves have been here, Peter Nikolaevich," he said. "The lock is
broken."

"No; you don't say so!"

"Yes, the brigands! I don't see 'Mashka.' 'Hawk' is here. But 'Beauty'
is not. Nor yet 'Dapple-grey.'"