“Then, I will send a little girl with you; she knows the road; only mind you do not carry her off! The traders have already carried off one of my girls.”

Tchitchikoff assured her that he would not do so, and Mrs. Korobotchka, regaining her composure, then began to inspect everything in her yard; she glanced at the housekeeper, who was bringing some honey from the storehouse; at a moujik, who made his appearance at the gate; and gradually her mind, sorely confused by her chat with our hero, reverted to household matters.

“Ah! here is the britchka, here is the britchka!” exclaimed Tchitchikoff at last, catching sight of his approaching vehicle. “What have you been doing so long, you blockhead?” he added to Selifan. “It is evident you haven’t entirely got rid of the fumes of your intoxication.”

To this Selifan made no reply.

“Farewell, my dear woman!” added our hero. “Now, where is your girl?”

“Hey, Pelageya,” said the hostess to a little girl of eleven, who was standing near the porch, in a gown of home-made linen stuff, with bare feet, which might have been taken at a distance for boots, so bedaubed they were with fresh mud. “Show this gentleman the road.”

Selifan helped the child to climb on to the box, Tchitchikoff placed his foot on the step after her; and making the britchka tilt on one side, for he was rather heavy, he finally took his seat, saying, “Ah, now, that’s well! Farewell, my good woman!” Then the horses started off.

Selifan growled all the way, but, at the same time, he was very attentive to his business, as was generally the case with him when he had been in fault, or intoxicated. The horses were wonderfully spruced up. The collar of one of them, which had hitherto been almost in a tattered state, was now skilfully mended. They went on till they reached a cross road, and here the coachman turned to the little girl seated on the box beside him. Pointing with his whip to the cross road, which was black with the rain, and which ran between fresh, bright, green fields, he asked, “To the right, eh?”

“No, no: I will show you,” replied the girl.

“Where now?” asked Selifan, when they had gone some distance farther, and had come to a fresh cross road.

“It’s here,” replied the little maid, pointing with her hand.

“Why, you child!” said Selifan. “That is to the right, as I said. She doesn’t know the right from the left!” he added.

Although the day was very fine, the road was so miry that the wheels of the britchka caught up the mud, and soon became covered with it as with a coating of felt, which rendered the equipage considerably heavier. Moreover, the soil was clayey, and unusually adhesive. For these reasons they did not emerge from the byeways until mid-day. Without the aid of the little girl, it would have been difficult to accomplish even this; for the roads sprawled out in all directions, and Selifan would have covered a vast expanse of unnecessary ground, without any fault of his own. However, the little girl at last pointed to a black- looking building in the distance, and said, “There is the highway.”

“And that building?” inquired Selifan.

“That’s the tavern,” said the child.

“All right, now we can get along by ourselves,” rejoined Selifan: “run home.”


  By PanEris using Melati.

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