Here he lied, merely in passing, and without any ultimate object, but with most unexpected success. The government contracts acted powerfully on Nastasya Petrovna: at all events, she said in an almost beseeching voice, “Why has your anger become so hot? If I had known, to begin with, that you were such a testy man, I should not have contradicted you at all.”

“As if there were no cause for anger! The matter may not be worth an egg, and yet I am angry about it!”

“Well, as you please: I am ready to sell the souls for fifteen roubles in bank-notes. Only look here, my father, concerning those contracts: if any rye or buckwheat flour is required, or groats, or meat, please don’t forget me.”

“No, my dear woman, I will not,” he said; and at the same time he wiped away the perspiration, which was pouring down his face in three streams. He then questioned her as to whether she had not some confidential friends in the town, or some acquaintance, whom she could authorise to complete the deed of sale, and all that was necessary.

“Why, the son of the protopope, Father Kirill, serves in the courts,” replied Mrs. Korobotchka, whereupon Tchitchikoff asked her to write the protopope’s son a confidential letter; and, in order to prevent any unnecessary obstacles from arising, he even undertook to compose it himself.

“It would be a good thing,” thought Mrs. Korobotchka to herself in the meanwhile, “if he would take my flour and cattle for the government. I must make him a present. There was some batter left over last night: I will go and tell Fetinya to bake some gribble-cakes (blini). It would be as well, too, to make him a sweet tart with eggs: I have some very fine eggs, and it will only require a short time.”

The hostess then left the room, in order to put her idea into execution with regard to the tart, and probably intending to amplify it with other productions of domestic cooking and baking; while Tchitchikoff proceeded to the drawing-room, where he had passed the night, in order to get the necessary papers from his dressing-case. Here everything had long since been put in order: the luxurious feather-bed had been carried away and a dressing table stood before the divan. Placing his case upon it, he rested awhile; for he felt that he was as drenched with perspiration as though he had been in a river. Everything he had on, from his shirt to his stockings, was moist. “Ah, that confounded old woman has worn me out!” he said, after resting a while; and then he opened his dressing-case. He immediately set to work, drew out some paper, and mending a pen, began to write. At that moment his hostess entered.

“You have a pretty case there, my friend,” said she, seating herself beside him. “You purchased it at Moscow, surely?”

“Yes,” replied Tchitchikoff, continuing to write.

“I knew it: everything there is of good workmanship. Two years ago my sister brought me some warm shoes for the children from Moscow, and they are of such good material that the children are still wearing them to this hour. Ah, what a lot of stamped paper you have there!” she went on, peeping into the dressing- case. In fact, there was a good deal of stamped paper there. “If you would only give me a sheet of it,” she added. “I need it so much: if a petition has to be sent to the court, I have nothing to write it on.”

Tchitchikoff explained to her that the paper was not suited for the purpose she indicated: that it was intended for bills of sale and not for petitions. However, at last, in order to quiet her, he gave her several sheets valued at a rouble each. Then having written the letter to the protopope’s son, he gave it to her to sign, and asked for a brief list of the dead moujiks. It appeared that she kept no list, but she knew almost all of their names by heart. He made her dictate them to him on the spot. The family-names of some of the peasants, and still more their nicknames, surprised him; and each time he heard a strange one, he paused and looked up. A certain Petr Savelieff Neuvazhai-Koruito⁶ struck him especially, and he could not refrain from saying, “That is very long.” Another had the term korovuii kirpitch⁷ coupled with