Иван Тургенев
The Diary of a Superfluous Man, and Other Stories

"Go to him," – returned Akím, without turning round: – "to the man to whom thou didst carry my money… Drive on, Efrém!"

Efrém whipped up the horse, the cart rolled off, and Avdótya set up a shrill scream…

Efrém lived a verst from Akím's inn, in a tiny cot in the priest's glebe, disposed around the solitary five-domed church, which had recently been erected by the heirs of a wealthy merchant, in conformity with his testamentary dispositions. Efrém did not speak to Akím all the way, and only shook his head from time to time, uttering words of the following nature: "Akh, thou!" and, "Ekh, thou!" Akím sat motionless, slightly turned away from Efrém. At last they arrived. Efrém sprang out first from the cart. A little girl of six years in a little chemise girt low ran out to meet him, and screamed:

"Daddy! daddy!"

"And where is thy mother?" – Efrém asked her.

"She 's asleep in the kennel."

"Well, let her sleep. Akím Semyónitch, won't you please come into the house?"

(It must be observed that Efrém addressed him as "thou" only when he was intoxicated. Far more important persons than he addressed Akím as "you.")

Akím entered the chanter's cottage.

"Pray, come hither to the bench," – said Efrém. – "Run along, you little rogues," – he shouted at three other brats who, along with two emaciated cats bespattered with ashes, suddenly made their appearance from various corners of the room. – "Run away! Scat! Here, Akím Semyónitch, come here," – he went on, as he seated his guest: – "and would n't you like something?"

"What shall I say to thee, Efrém?" – articulated Akím at last. – "Could n't I have some liquor?"

Efrém gave a start.

"Liquor? Certainly. I have none in the house, – liquor, that is to say, – but here, I 'll run at once to Father Feódor. He always has some on hand… I 'll be back in a jiffy…"

And he snatched up his large-eared cap.

"And bring as much as possible; I 'll pay for it," – shouted Akím after him. – "I still have money enough for that."

"In a jiffy,"… repeated Efrém once more, as he disappeared through the door. He really did return very speedily with two quart bottles under his arm, one of which was already uncorked, placed them on the table, got out two small green glasses, the heel of a loaf, and salt.

"That 's what I love," – he kept repeating, as he seated himself opposite Akím. – "What 's the use of grieving?" – he filled the glasses for both … and set to babbling… Avdótya's behaviour had stunned him. – "'T is an astonishing affair, truly," – said he: – "how did it come about? He must have bewitched her to himself by magic … hey? That 's what it means, that a woman should be strictly watched! She ought to have had a tight hand kept over her. And yet, it would n't be a bad thing for you to go home; for you must have a lot of property left there, I think." – And to many more speeches of the same sort did Efrém give utterance; when he was drinking he did not like to hold his tongue.

An hour later, this is what took place in Efrém's house. Akím, who had not replied by a single word, during the entire course of the drinking-bout, to the interrogations and comments of his loquacious host, and had merely drained glass after glass, was fast asleep on the oven, all red in the face – in a heavy, anguished slumber; the youngsters were wondering at him, while Efrém … Alas! Efrém was asleep also, but only in a very cramped and cold lumber-room, in which he had been locked up by his wife, a woman of extremely masculine and robust build. He had gone to her in the stable, and had begun to threaten her, if she repeated something or other, but so incoherently and unintelligibly did he express himself that she instantly divined what the trouble was, grasped him by the collar, and led him to the proper place. However, he slept very well and even comfortably in the lumber-room. Habit!

Kiríllovna had not reported her conversation with Akím very accurately to Lizavéta Prókhorovna … and the same may be said concerning Avdótya. Naúm had not turned her out of the house, although she had told Akím that he had done so; he had not the right to expel her… He was bound to give the former proprietors time to move out. Explanations of quite another sort had taken place between him and Avdótya. When Akím had rushed into the street, shouting that he would go to the mistress, Avdótya had turned to Naúm, had stared at him with all her eyes, and clasped her hands.

"O Lord!" – she began; – "Naúm Ivánitch, what is the meaning of this? Have you bought our inn?"

"What if I have, ma'am?" – he retorted. – "I have bought it, ma'am."

Avdótya said nothing for a while, then suddenly took fright.

"So that is what you wanted the money for?"

"Precisely as you are pleased to put it, ma'am. Ehe, I do believe that measly little husband of yours has driven off with my horse," – he added, as the rumble of wheels reached his ear. – "What a fine dashing fellow he is!"

"Why, but this is robbery, nothing else!" – shrieked Avdótya. – "For the money is ours, my husband's, and the inn is ours …"

"No, ma'am, Avdótya Aréfyevna," – Naúm interrupted her: – "the inn was n't yours, and what 's the use of saying so; the inn stood on the lady-mistress's land, so it belonged to her also; and the money really was yours, only you were so kind, I may put it, as to contribute it to me, ma'am; and I shall remain grateful to you, and shall even, if the occasion arises, return it to you, – if I should see my way to it; only, it is n't right that I should strip myself bare. Just judge for yourself if that is n't so."

Naúm said all this very calmly, and even with a slight smile.

"Good heavens!" – screamed Avdótya; – "but what 's the meaning of this? What is it? But how am I to show myself in my husband's sight after this? Thou villain!" – she added, gazing with hatred at Naúm's young, fresh face; – "have n't I ruined my soul for thee, have n't I become a thief for thy sake, hast not thou turned us out of doors, thou abominable villain?! After this there is nothing left for me but to put a noose about my neck, villain, deceiver, thou destroyer of me…"

And she wept in torrents…

"Pray, don't worry, Avdótya Aréfyevna," – said Naúm; – "I 'll tell you one thing; a fellow must look out for number one; moreover, that 's what the pike is in the sea for, Avdótya Aréfyevna – to keep the carp from getting drowsy."

"Where are we to go now, what is to become of us?" – stammered Avdótya through her tears.

"That 's more than I can tell, ma'am."

"But I 'll cut thy throat, thou villain; I will, I will!.."

"No, you won't do that, Avdótya Aréfyevna; what 's the use of saying that? But I see that it will be better for me to go away from here for a while, or you will be much upset… I will bid you good day, ma'am, and to-morrow I shall return without fail… And you will be so good as to permit me to send my hired men to you to-day," – he added, while Avdótya continued to repeat, through her tears, that she would cut his throat and her own also.

"And yonder they come, by the way," – he remarked, looking out of the window. "Otherwise, some catastrophe might happen, which God forbid… Matters will be more tranquil so. Do me the favour to get your belongings together to-day, ma'am, while they will stand guard over you and help you, if you like. I bid you good day, ma'am."

He bowed, left the room and called his men to him…

Avdótya sank down on the wall-bench, then laid herself breast down on the table, and began to wring her hands, then suddenly sprang to her feet, and ran after her husband… We have described their meeting.

When Akím drove away from her in company with Efrém, leaving her alone in the fields, she first wept for a long time, without stirring from the spot. Having wept her fill, she directed her course to the mistress's manor. It was a bitter thing for her to enter the house, and still more bitter to show herself in the maids'-hall. All the maids flew to greet her with sympathy and expressions of regret. At the sight of them, Avdótya could not restrain her tears; they fairly gushed forth from her red and swollen eyes. Completely unnerved, she dropped down on the first chair she came to. They ran for Kiríllovna. Kiríllovna came, treated her very affectionately, but would not admit her to see the mistress, any more than she had admitted Akím. Avdótya herself did not insist very strongly on seeing Lizavéta Prókhorovna; she had come to the manor-house solely because she positively did not know where to lay her head.

Kiríllovna ordered the samovár to be prepared. For a long time Avdótya refused to drink tea, but yielded, at last, to the entreaties and persuasions of all the maids, and after the first cup drank four more. When Kiríllovna perceived that her visitor was somewhat pacified, and only shuddered from time to time, sobbing faintly, she asked her whither they intended to remove, and what they wished to do with their things. This question set Avdótya to crying again, and she began to asseverate that she wanted nothing more, except to die; but Kiríllovna, being a woman of brains, immediately stopped her and advised her to set about transferring her things that very day, without useless waste of time, to Akím's former cottage in the village, where dwelt his uncle, that same old man who had tried to dissuade him from marrying; she announced that, with the mistress's permission, they would be furnished with transportation, and the aid of people and horses; "and as for you, my dearest," – added Kiríllovna, compressing her cat-like lips in a sour smile, – "there will always be a place for you in our house, and it will be very agreeable to us if you will be our guest until you recover yourself and get settled in your house. The principal thing is – you must not get downcast. The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away, and He will give again: everything depends on His will. Lizavéta Prókhorovna, of course, was obliged to sell your house, according to her calculations, but she will not forget you, and will reward you; she bade me say so to Akím Semyónitch… Where is he now?"

Avdótya replied that, on meeting her, he had grossly insulted her, and had driven off to Chanter Efrém's.

"To that creature's!" – replied Kiríllovna, significantly. – "Well, I understand that it is painful for him now, and I don't believe you can hunt him up to-day. What is to be done? We must take measures, Maláshka," – she added, turning to one of the chambermaids. "Just ask Nikanór Ílitch to step here; I will have a talk with him."

Nikanór Ílitch, a man of very paltry appearance, who served somewhat in the capacity of overseer, immediately presented himself, obsequiously listened to everything which Kiríllovna said to him, – remarked: "It shall be executed," left the room and issued his orders. Avdótya was furnished with three carts and three peasants; these were voluntarily joined by a fourth, who said of himself that he would be "more intelligent than they," and she set off in company with them for the inn, where she found her former hired men and her maid-servant, Fetínya, in great terror and excitement…

Naúm's recruits, three extremely robust young fellows, had arrived in the morning, and had gone nowhere since, but had maintained a very zealous guard over the inn, according to Naúm's promise – so zealous, that one cart speedily proved to be devoid of tires…

Bitter, very bitter was it for poor Avdótya to pack up her things. Despite the assistance of the "intelligent" man, who, by the way, knew how to do nothing but stalk about with a staff in his hand, and watch the others, and spit to one side, she did not succeed in moving out that day, and remained to spend the night in the inn, having first requested Fetínya not to leave her room; but it was not until daybreak that she fell into a feverish doze, and the tears streamed down her cheeks even in her sleep.

In the meantime, Efrém awoke earlier than was his wont in his lumber-room, and began to thump and demand his release. At first his wife would not let him out, declaring to him through the door that he had not yet had enough sleep; but he excited her curiosity by promising to tell her about the remarkable thing which had happened to Akím; she undid the latch. – Efrém imparted to her everything he knew, and wound up with the question: "Was he awake or not?"

"Why, the Lord knows," – replied his wife; – "go and see for thyself; he has not climbed down from the oven yet. – You both got pretty drunk last night; thou shouldst just see thyself – thy face has no semblance of a face; 't is like some sort of ladle; and what a lot of hay has got into thy hair!"

"Never mind if it has," – returned Efrém, – and passing his hand over his head, he entered the house. – Akím was no longer asleep; he was sitting on the oven with his legs dangling; his face also was very strange and discomposed. It appeared all the more distorted because Akím was not in the habit of drinking heavily.

"Well, how now, Akím Semyónitch, how have you slept?" – began Efrém…

Akím looked at him with a turbid gaze.

"Come, brother Efrém," – he said hoarsely, – "can't we do it again – thou knowest what?"

Efrém darted a swift glance at Akím … at that moment he felt a sort of thrill; that is the kind of sensation a sportsman experiences when standing on the skirt of the woods, at the sudden yelping of his hound in the forest, from which, apparently, all the wild beasts have already fled.

"What – more?" – he asked at last.

"Yes; more."

"My wife will see," – thought Efrém, – "and I don't believe she will allow it." – "All right, it can be done," – he said aloud; – "have patience." – He went out and, thanks to artfully conceived measures, succeeded in smuggling in a huge bottle unperceived beneath the skirt of his coat…

Akím seized the bottle … But Efrém did not start to drink with him as on the preceding evening – he was afraid of his wife, and, – having told Akím that he would go and see how things were progressing at his house, and how his belongings were being packed, and whether he were not being robbed, – he immediately set off for the inn astride of his unfed little nag, – not forgetting himself, however, if we may take into consideration his projecting bosom.

Soon after his departure, Akím fell asleep again, and lay like one dead on the oven… He did not even wake up – at all events, he showed no signs of being awake – when Efrém, returning four hours later, began to shove him and try to rouse him, and whisper over him some extremely indistinct words to the effect that everything was gone and transported and the holy pictures were gone too, and everything was already over – and that every one was hunting for him, but that he, Efrém, had taken due measures, and had prohibited … and so forth. But he did not whisper long. His wife led him off to the lumber-room again, and herself lay down in the house, on the platform over the oven, in great indignation at her husband and at the guest, thanks to whom her husband had got drunk… But when, on awakening very early, according to her wont, she cast a glance at the oven, Akím was no longer on it… The cocks had not yet crowed for the second time, and the night was still so dark that the sky was barely turning grey directly overhead, and at the rim was still completely drowned in vapour, when Akím emerged from the gate of the chanter's house. His face was pale, but he darted a keen glance around him, and his gait did not betray the drunkard… He walked in the direction of his former dwelling – the inn, which had already definitively become the property of its new owner, Naúm.

Naúm was not sleeping either, at the time when Akím stealthily quitted Efrém's house. He was not asleep; he was lying completely dressed on the wall-bench, with his sheepskin coat rolled up under his head. It was not that his conscience was tormenting him – no! he had been present with astounding cold-bloodedness, from the morning on, at the packing and transportation of Akím's household goods, and had more than once spoken to Avdótya, who was downcast to such a degree that she did not even upbraid him… His conscience was at ease, but divers surmises and calculations occupied his mind. He did not know whether he was going to make a success of his new career; up to that time, he had never kept an inn – and, generally speaking, had never even had a nook of his own; and so he could not get to sleep. – "This little affair has been begun well," – he thought; – "what will the future be?"… When the last cart-load of Akím's effects had set off just before night-fall (Avdótya had followed it weeping), he had inspected the entire inn, all the stables, cellars, and barns; he had crawled up into the attic, had repeatedly ordered his labourers to maintain a strict watch, and, when he was left alone after supper, he had not been able to get to sleep. It so happened that on that day none of the travellers stopped to pass the night; and this pleased him greatly. "I must buy a dog without fail to-morrow, – the worst-tempered dog I can get, from the miller; for they have carried off theirs," – he said to himself, as he tossed from side to side, and, all of a sudden, he raised his head hastily… It seemed to him as though some one had stolen past under the window… He listened… Not a sound. Only a grasshopper shrilled behind the oven, from time to time, and a mouse was gnawing somewhere, and his own breath was audible. All was still in the empty room, dimly illuminated by the yellow rays of a tiny glass shrine-lamp, which he had found time to suspend and light in front of a small holy picture in the corner… He lowered his head; and now again he seemed to hear the gate squeaking … then the wattled hedge crackled faintly… He could not endure it, leaped to his feet, opened the door into the next room, and called in a low tone: "Feódor, hey, Feódor!" – No one answered him… He went out into the anteroom and nearly fell prone, as he stumbled over Feódor, who was sprawling on the floor. The labourer stirred, growling in his sleep; he shook him.

"Who 's there? What 's wanted?" – Feódor was beginning…

"What art thou yelling for? Hold thy tongue!" – articulated Naúm in a whisper. – "The idea of your sleeping, you damned brutes! Hast thou not heard anything?"

"No," – replied the man… "Why?"

"And where are the others sleeping?"

"The others are sleeping where they were ordered to… But has anything happened?.."

"Silence! – Follow me."

Naúm softly opened the door leading from the anteroom into the yard… Out of doors everything was very dark;… it was possible to make out the sheds with their pillars only because they stood out still more densely black in the midst of the black mist…

"Sha'n't I light a lantern?" – said Feódor in a low voice.

But Naúm waved his hand and held his breath… At first he could hear nothing except those nocturnal sounds which one can almost always hear in inhabited places: a horse was munching oats, a pig grunted once faintly in its sleep, a man was snoring somewhere; but suddenly there reached his ear a suspicious sort of noise, proceeding from the extreme end of the yard, close to the fence…

It seemed as though some one was moving about, and breathing or blowing… Naúm looked over Feódor's shoulder, and, cautiously descending the steps, walked in the direction of the sound… A couple of times he halted, and listened, then continued to creep stealthily onward… Suddenly he gave a start… Ten paces from him, in the dense gloom, a point of light suddenly glimmered brightly: it was a red-hot coal, and beside the coal there showed itself for a brief instant the front part of some one's face, with lips puffed out… Swiftly and silently Naúm darted at the light, as a cat darts at a mouse… Hastily rising from the ground, a long body rushed to meet him, and almost knocked him from his feet, almost slipped through his hands, but he clung to it with all his might…

"Feódor! Andréi! Petrúshka!" – he shouted, at the top of his lungs; – "come here quick, quick! I 've caught a thief, an incendiary!"

The man whom he had captured struggled and resisted … but Naúm did not release him… Feódor immediately darted to his assistance.

"A lantern, quick, a lantern! Run for a lantern! wake the others, be quick!" – Naúm shouted to him, – "and I 'll manage him alone meanwhile – I 'll sit on him… Be quick! and fetch a belt to bind him with!"

Feódor flew to the cottage… The man whom Naúm was holding suddenly ceased his resistance…

"So, evidently, 't is not enough for thee to have taken my wife and my money, and my house, but thou art bent on destroying me also," – he said in a dull tone…

Naúm recognised Akím's voice.

"So 't is thou, dear little dove," – said he; – "good, just wait a bit!"

"Let me go," – said Akím. – "Art not thou satisfied?"

"See here, to-morrow I 'll show you in the presence of the judge how satisfied I am…" And Naúm tightened his hold on Akím…

The labourers ran up with two lanterns and some ropes… "Bind him!" – ordered Naúm, sharply… The labourers seized Akím, lifted him up, and bound his hands behind him… One of them was beginning to swear, but on recognising the former landlord of the inn, he held his peace, and merely exchanged glances with the others.

"Just see there, see there, now," – Naúm kept repeating the while, as he passed the lantern along the ground; – "yonder, there are coals in a pot; just look, he has brought a whole firebrand in the pot – we must find out where he got that pot … and here, he has broken twigs…" And Naúm assiduously stamped out the fire with his foot. – "Search him, Feódor!" – he added, "and see whether he has anything more about him."

Feódor searched and felt Akím, who stood motionless with his head drooping on his breast, like a dead man. – "There is – here 's a knife," – said Feódor, drawing an old kitchen-knife from Akím's breast.

"Ehe, my dear fellow, so that 's what thou hadst in mind!" – exclaimed Naúm. – "You are witnesses, my lads – see there, he intended to cut my throat, to burn up my house… Lock him up in the cellar until morning; he can't get out of there… I will stand watch all night myself, and to-morrow at dawn we will take him to the chief of police … and you are witnesses, do you hear…"

They thrust Akím into the cellar, and slammed the door behind him… Naúm stationed two of the labourers there, and did not lie down to sleep himself.

In the meantime, Efrém's wife, having convinced herself that her unbidden guest had taken himself off, was on the point of beginning her cooking, although it was hardly daylight out of doors as yet. She squatted down by the oven to get some coals, and saw that some one had already raked out the live embers thence; then she bethought herself of her knife – and did not find it; in conclusion, one of her four pots was missing. Efrém's wife bore the reputation of being anything but a stupid woman – and with good reason. She stood for a while in thought, then went to the lumber-room to her husband. It was not easy to arouse him fully – and still more difficult was it to make him understand why he had been awakened… To everything which his wife said, Chanter Efrém made one and the same reply:

"He 's gone, – well, God be with him … but what business is that of mine? He has carried off a knife and a pot – well, God be with him – but what business is that of mine?"

But, at last, he rose, and after listening intently to his wife, he decided that it was a bad business, and that it could not be left as it now stood.

"Yes," – the chanter's wife insisted, – "'t is a bad business; I do believe he 'll do mischief out of desperation… I noticed last night that he was not asleep as he lay there on the oven; it would n't be a bad idea for thee, Efrém Alexándritch, to find out whether …"

"See here, Ulyána Feódorovna, I 'll tell thee what," – began Efrém; – "I 'll go to the inn myself immediately; and do thou be kind, dear little mother; give me a little glass of liquor to cure me of my drunkenness."

Ulyána reflected.

"Well," – she decided at last, – "I 'll give thee some liquor, Efrém Alexándritch; only look out, don't dally."

"Be at ease, Ulyána Feódorovna."

And, having fortified himself with a glass of liquor, Efrém set out for the inn.

Day had but just dawned when he rode up to the inn, and at the gate a cart was already standing harnessed, and one of Naúm's labourers was sitting on the driver's seat, holding the reins in his hands.

"Whither art thou going?" – Efrém asked him.

"To town," – replied the labourer.

"Why?"

The labourer merely shrugged his shoulders and made no reply. Efrém sprang from his horse and entered the house. In the anteroom he ran across Naúm, fully dressed, and wearing a cap.

"I congratulate the new landlord on his new domicile," – said Efrém, who was personally acquainted with him. – "Whither away so early?"

"Yes, there is cause for congratulation," – replied Naúm, surlily. – "This is my first day, and I have almost been burnt out."

Efrém started. – "How so?"

"Why, just that; a kind man turned up, who tried to set the house on fire. Luckily, I caught him in the act; now I 'm taking him to town."

"It can't be Akím, can it?"… asked Efrém, slowly.

"And how dost thou know? It is Akím. He came by night, with a firebrand in a pot, and had already crept into the yard, and laid a fire… All my lads are witnesses. – Wouldst like to take a look? But, by the way, 't is high time we were carrying him off."

"Dear little father, Naúm Ivánitch," – began Efrém, – "release him; don't utterly ruin the old man. Don't take that sin on your soul, Naúm Ivánitch. Just reflect, – the man is desperate, – he has lost, you know …"

"Stop that prating!" – Naúm interrupted him. – "The idea! As though I would let him go! Why, he would set me on fire again to-morrow…"

"He will not do it, Naúm Ivánitch, believe me. Believe me, you yourself will be more at ease so – for, you see, there will be inquiries – the court – you surely know what I mean."

"Well, and what about the court? I have nothing to fear from the court…"

"Dear little father, Naúm Ivánitch, how can you help fearing the court?.."

"Eh, stop that; I see that thou art drunk early, and to-day is a feast-day, to boot."

Efrém suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, fell to weeping.

"I am drunk, but I 'm speaking the truth," – he blurted out. – "But do you release him, in honour of Christ's festival."

"Come, let 's be starting, cry-baby."

And Naúm went out on the porch…

"Forgive him for Avdótya Aréfyevna's sake," – said Efrém, following him.

Naúm approached the cellar, and threw the door wide open. Efrém, with timorous curiosity, craned his neck from behind Naúm's back, and with difficulty made out Akím in one corner of the shallow cellar. The former wealthy householder, the man respected in all the countryside, was sitting with pinioned arms on the straw, like a criminal… On hearing the noise, he raised his head… He seemed to have grown frightfully thin in the last two days, especially during the last night – his sunken eyes were hardly visible beneath his lofty brow, yellow as wax, his parched lips had turned dark … his whole face had undergone a change, and assumed a strange expression: both harsh and terrified.

"Get up and come out," – said Naúm.

Akím rose, and stepped across the threshold.

"Akím Semyónitch," – roared Efrém, – "thou hast ruined thyself, my dear man!"

Akím glanced at him in silence.

"If I had known why thou didst ask for liquor, I would n't have given it to thee; indeed, I would n't! I do believe I would have drunk it all myself! Ekh, Naúm Ivánitch," – added Efrém, seizing Naúm by the hand; – "have mercy on him, let him go!"

"Thou 'rt joking," – retorted Naúm, with a grin. – "Come out, there," – he added, again addressing Akím… "What art thou waiting for?"

"Naúm Ivánoff,"… began Akím.

"What?"

"Naúm Ivánoff," – repeated Akím; – "listen; I am guilty; I wanted to punish thee myself; but God must judge between thou and me. Thou hast taken everything from me, thou knowest that thyself – everything, to the very last morsel. – Now thou canst ruin me, and this is all I have to say to thee: If thou wilt release me now – well! let things stand! do thou possess everything! I agree, and wish thee all success. And I say to thee, as in the presence of God: If thou dost release me – thou shalt not regret it. God bless thee!"

Akím shut his eyes, and ceased speaking.

"Certainly, certainly," – retorted Naúm; – "as though one could trust thee!"

"But thou canst, by God, thou canst!" – said Efrém; "really, thou canst. I 'm ready to go bail for Akím Semyónitch with my head – come now, really!"

"Nonsense!" – exclaimed Naúm. – "Let 's be off!"

Akím looked at him.

"As thou wilt, Naúm Ivánitch. Thou hast the power. Only, thou art taking a great deal on thy soul. All right, if thou art impatient, – let us start…"

Naúm, in his turn, darted a keen glance at Akím. "But it really would be better," – he thought to himself, "to let him go to the devil! Otherwise, folks will devour me alive. There 'll be no living for Avdótya."… While Naúm was reasoning with himself no one uttered a single word. The labourer on the cart, who could see everything through the gate, merely shook his head and slapped the reins on the horse's back. The other two labourers stood on the porch and also maintained silence.

"Come, listen to me, old man," – began Naúm; – "if I let thee go, – and I forbid these fine fellows" (he nodded his head in the direction of the labourers) "to blab; shall we be quits, thou and I – thou understandest me – quits … hey?"

"Possess everything, I say."

"Thou wilt not consider me in thy debt?"

"Thou wilt not be in debt to me, neither shall I be in debt to thee." Again Naúm was silent for a space.

"Well, take thy oath on that!"

"I do, as God is holy," – replied Akím.

"Here goes then, although I know beforehand that I shall repent of it," – remarked Naúm. – "But so be it! Give me your hands."

Akím turned his back toward him; Naúm began to unbind him.

"Look out, old man," – he added, as he slipped the rope over his wrists: – "remember, I have spared thee; be careful!"