The species of inn where we were sheltered was in the very heart of
the steppes, far from the road and every inhabited spot, and looked
very much like a rendezvous of robbers. But to set off again on our
journey was impossible. The disgust of Saveliitch amused not a
little; however, he finally decided to mount upon the roof of the
stove, the ordinary bed of the Russian peasant. The warm bricks of
the hot-air chamber of the stove diffused a grateful heat, and soon
the old man and the host, who had laid himself on the floor, were
snoring. I stretched myself upon a bench, and slept like a dead.
Awaking next morning quite late, I saw that the hurricane was over.
The sun shone out, the snow extended in the distance like a sheet of
dazzling white damask. The horses were already at the door, harnessed.
I paid our host, who asked so small a pittance that even Saveliitch
did not, as usual, haggle over the price. His suspicions of the
evening before had entirely disappeared. I called the guide to thank
him for the service he had done us, and told Saveliitch to give him
half a rouble. Saveliitch frowned.

"Half a rouble," said he; "What for? Because you yourself deigned
to bring him to the inn? Your will be done, my lord, but we have
not a rouble to spare. If we begin by giving drink money to every
one we shall end by dying of hunger."

It was useless to argue with him; my money, according to my promise,
was entirely at his discretion. But it was very unpleasant not to
be able to reward a man who had extricated me from danger, perhaps
death.

"Well," said I, coolly, "if you will not give him half a rouble,