his old nurse; 'let's do honour to our host.... Come along.'

'Yes, sir,' answered the old man.

And all three started off to the house together. The money-lender knew
the man he had to deal with. At the first start Misha, it is true,
exacted a promise from him to 'grant all sorts of immunities' to the
peasants; but an hour later, this same Misha, together with Timofay,
both drunk, were dancing a galop in the big apartments, which still
seemed pervaded by the God-fearing shade of Andrei Nikolaevitch; and an
hour later still, Misha in a dead sleep (he had a very weak head for
spirits), laid in a cart with his high cap and dagger, was being driven
off to the town, more than twenty miles away, and there was flung under
a hedge.... As for Timofay, who could still keep on his legs, and only
hiccupped--him, of course, they kicked out of the house; since they
couldn't get at the master, they had to be content with the old servant.




VI


Some time passed again, and I heard nothing of Misha.... God knows what
he was doing. But one day, as I sat over the samovar at a
posting-station on the T---- highroad, waiting for horses, I suddenly
heard under the open window of the station room a hoarse voice, uttering
in French the words: 'Monsieur ... monsieur ... prenez pitie d'un pauvre
gentil-homme ruine.' ... I lifted my head, glanced.... The
mangy-looking fur cap, the broken ornaments on the ragged Circassian