“Good-bye, my dear little boys!” said Tchitchikoff, catching sight of Alcides and Themistoclus, who were busying themselves over a wooden hussar who had neither any arms nor any nose. “Good-bye, my dear little ones. You will excuse me for not having brought you a present, but I must confess that I did not even know of your existence; however, when I come again, I shall certainly bring one. I will bring you a sword: would you like a sword?”

“Yes,” answered Themistoclus.

“And a drum for you. It shall be a drum, shall it not?” he proceeded, bending down to Alcides.

“Yes, a dwum,” whispered Alcides, and he dropped his head.

“Very well, I will bring you a drum, such a fine drum! it will be all turrr-ru-tra, ta ta, ta ta ta. Good-bye, you darling, good-bye!” Here he kissed Alcides on the head, and turned to Maniloff and his wife with the little laugh with which one generally does turn to parents, giving them to understand what dear little things their children are.

“Really, you had better stay, Pavel Ivanovitch,” said Maniloff, when they were all gathered on the verandah. “Look at the clouds.”

“They are very small,” replied Tchitchikoff.

“Do you know the road to Sobakevitch’s?”

“Oh! I wanted to ask you about that.”

“Well, if you will allow me, I will tell your coachman at once.” Here Maniloff, with the same affability, gave the coachman his instructions, even addressing him once by the pronoun “you”—in lieu of the “thou” usual in speaking to inferiors.

The coachman, on hearing that he must pass by two turnings, and take the third one, said, “We shall hit it, your excellency”; and Tchitchikoff drove off, accompanied by the bows and waving kerchiefs of his hosts, who stood watching him on tiptoe.

Maniloff, indeed, stood for a long time on the verandah, following the retreating britchka with his eyes; and even when it had become invisible, he still stood there, smoking his pipe. At last he entered the room, seated himself on a chair, and gave himself up to meditation, heartily rejoicing that he had done his visitor a trifling service. Then his thoughts turned imperceptibly to other subjects, and finally they wandered away, God knows where. He thought of the bliss of a life of friendship; of how delightful it would be to dwell with his friend on the banks of some river; and so on; but suddenly Tchitchikoff’s strange request disturbed all his dreams. The thought of it seemed to seethe strangely in his brain; turn it over as he would, he could not explain it to himself; and thus he sat smoking his pipe, and pondering all through the afternoon and evening until suppertime.