condition, that you give up drink.... Do you agree?'

Misha was positively aghast with delight; he opened his eyes wide,
flushed crimson, and suddenly falling on my shoulder, began kissing me,
and repeating in a broken voice, 'Uncle ... benefactor ... God reward
you.' ... He burst into tears at last, and taking off his cap fell to
wiping his eyes, his nose, his lips with it.

'Mind,' I observed; 'remember the condition, not to touch strong drink.'

'Damnation to it!' he cried, with a wave of both arms, and with this
impetuous movement, I was more than ever conscious of the strong smell
of spirits with which he seemed always saturated.... 'Uncle, if you
knew what my life has been.... If it hadn't been for sorrow, a cruel
fate.... But now I swear, I swear, I will mend my ways, I will show
you.... Uncle, I've never told a lie--you can ask whom you like.... I'm
honest, but I'm an unlucky fellow, uncle; I've known no kindness from
any one....'

Here he broke down finally into sobs. I tried to soothe him, and
succeeded so far that when we reached home Misha had long been lost in a
heavy sleep, with his head on my knees.




VII


He was at once assigned a room for himself, and at once, first thing,