he instantly calmed down, hastily locked up his room, dressed himself in the first clothes that came to hand, and set out.

Nozdreff’s disposition, testimony, and surmises presented such a sharp contrast with those of the officials that the guesses of the latter were upset. This fellow was decidedly a man for whom there existed no doubts whatever, and in exact proportion as they exhibited hesitation and timidity, did he display firmness and confidence. He replied to all points without even hesitating, declared that Tchitchikoff had purchased dead souls to the number of several thousands, and that he himself had sold some to him, because he did not see any reason why he should not sell them. To the question, Was not Tchitchikoff a spy, and was he not attempting to find out something? Nozdreff replied that he had already been a spy in their school-days, that he had been called the “attorney-general,” and that his comrades (including himself) had hustled him about so much that it had been necessary to apply two hundred and forty leeches to one of his temples—that is, he had meant to say forty; the mention of the two hundred had popped out of its own accord. To the question, Was Tchitchikoff a counterfeiter? he replied that he was; and, in that connection, he related an anecdote to illustrate Tchitchikoff’s remarkable cleverness—how the authorities, on learning that he had two million roubles’ worth of counterfeit bank-notes in his house, had sealed up the building, and set a guard of two soldiers at every door, and how Tchitchikoff had changed the notes in the course of one night, so that, when the seals were removed on the following day, it was seen that they were all genuine. To the question, Did Tchitchikoff really intend to kidnap the governor’s daughter, and was it true that he himself had undertaken to assist and take part in the enterprise? Nozdreff replied that he had assisted, and that, if it had not been for him, nothing would have come of it. Here he tried to catch himself up, perceiving that he had lied quite unnecessarily, and that he might by this mistake call down misfortune on his head; however he could not possibly restrain his tongue.

Moreover, it was difficult to do so, as such interesting details presented themselves that he could by no means keep silent: he even mentioned the name of the village where was situated the parish church in which the marriage was arranged to take place; namely, the village of Trukhmatchevka: the pope’s name, he said, was Father Sidor; seventy-five roubles was the price to be paid for the service; and the pope would not have consented had he not frightened him by threatening to denounce him for having married Mikhail, the flour-dealer, to his fellow-god-parent;¹ that he had even surrendered his own calash, and had prepared relays of horses at all the stations. These lying particulars extended even to the point of mentioning the names of the postboys. An attempt was made to drop a word about Napoleon, but the officials repented of their effort; for Nozdreff furnished them with such a pack of nonsense, destitute of even the slightest semblance of truth, that they all departed, sighing; the postmaster alone continued to listen for a long while, thinking that there might, at least, be something more; but finally even he waved his hand and said, “The deuce knows what it’s all about!” And they all of them agreed that, struggle with a bull as much as you like, you will never get any milk from him.

So the officials were left in a worse position than before, and they could not settle in the least who Tchitchikoff was.

Tchitchikoff knew nothing whatever of all this. It seemed to happen expressly, that he took a slight cold at that very time,—one of those colds in the head with a slight swelling in the throat, in the distribution of which the climate of many of our provincial towns is extremely lavish. In order that his life might not be cut short, without posterity, which God forbid, he decided that it would be better to keep to his room for two or three days. During these few days he gargled his throat with a decoction of milk and figs, which he afterwards ate; and he wore a little poultice of camomile and camphor bound upon his cheek. As he was desirous of occupying his time in some way, he prepared new and detailed lists of the peasants whom he had recently purchased; and he even read a volume of the Duchess de La Vallière, which he had rummaged out of his trunk; looked over divers notes, and other objects in his dressing-case, read his papers over a second time, in a perfunctory way, and felt greatly bored by everything.

He could not in the least understand what it meant, that not one of the city officials had come even once to inquire after his health, whereas, only a short time before, drozhkies had stood constantly in front of