"And you cheated, too, I suppose?"

"People like you? Nobles? I should just think so! They used to
grovel at my feet!"

"You only went in for robbing, not murder, I suppose?" asked the
Captain. Petunikoff turned pale, and hastily changed the
subject.

"You are a bad host. You sit while your guest stands."

"Let him sit, too," said Kuvalda.

"But what am I to sit on?"

"On the earth . . . it will take any rubbish . . ."

"You are the proof of that," said Petunikoff quietly, while his
eyes shot forth poisonous glances.

And he went away, leaving Kuvalda under the pleasant impression
that the merchant was afraid of him. If he were not afraid of
him he would long ago have evicted him from the dosshouse. But
then he would think twice before turning him out, because of the
five roubles a month. And the Captain gazed with pleasure at
Petunikoff's back as he slowly retreated from the courtyard.
Following him with his eyes, he noticed how the merchant passed
the factory and disappeared into the wood, and he wished very
much that he might fall and break all his bones. He sat