“I am ashamed to impose so unpleasant a commission on you. In my opinion, the man is a worthless fellow; he belongs to the petty landed nobility of our government; he has served his time in Petersburg, having there married someone’s illegitimate daughter, and acquired a great opinion of himself. He sets the fashion. But people do not live in an utterly stupid way with us. The fashion is no ukaz to our minds, and Petersburg is not the church.”

“Exactly,” said Tchitchikoff; “and what is the point of the business?”

“He needs some land, you see. And I would have let him take some other plot for nothing, but not this wild strip. However, he’s a quarrelsome fellow, and he thinks that I am frightened.”

“In my opinion, it would be better to talk the matter over. Perhaps you will not repent of it if you intrust the matter to me. General Betrishtcheff also——”

“But I am ashamed that you should be obliged to talk with such a man.”

“Never mind that; to-morrow morning I will call upon him, and everything will be settled to your satisfaction. I am sure of it.”

On the next day Tchitchikoff called upon Lyenitzuin in a neighbourly way, and informed him that he had purchased Khlobuyoff’s estate. Lyenitzuin and Khlobuyoff were relatives, and our hero speedily guessed that chance had brought him to the residence of the man who was desirous of securing the civil-governorship of the town, so as to be near the aunt with the three millions of roubles. He had always known how to ingratiate himself with her. He was offered a much higher post, he said, but he preferred to remain near the dear relative who had treated him so kindly since his infancy.

“That is a noble sentiment,” said Pavel Ivanovitch.

Our hero greatly pleased Lyenitzuin, who considered that he had a very intelligent look. Moveover, Tchitchikoff showed himself very respectful and indulgent as regards the persons they talked about, excepting perhaps Khlobuyoff; he also knew a large number of noblemen of that district and the neighbouring ones, and he seemed to be both a skilful business man and gave himself out wealthy, with large connections in society. At last he remarked to Lyenitzuin:

“It is you, no doubt, who will some day inherit the fortune of Alexandra Ivanovna Khanassaroff, or at least the greater part of it.”

“Those who assert that are in the wrong,” replied Lyenitzuin. “I hear that she has made a will leaving the bulk of her fortune to the convents.”

“How shameful! The convents are rich enough already. But why not prevail upon her to make a fresh will? I can’t calmly see you disinherited like that. I shall stay some time in the town and obtain an introduction to the venerable Alexandra Ivanovna, and if you like—to oblige you—I will insinuate to her that the convents are rich enough already. Why not draw up a fresh will, nicely put together, which she would only have to sign?”

“Oh,” said Lyenitzuin; “I’m afraid she wouldn’t sign.”

“Old people are obstinate, I know,” rejoined our hero. “But no matter; since she is going to die, why shouldn’t she be made to leave her property to you. Besides, it’s only a name to sign; and in my opinion, as she is so obstinate, why, I should get somebody to sign for her.”

“Hush! hush! One moment!”

Thereupon, as if a breeze had sprung up and as if Lyenitzuin feared a draught, he rose, drew down the blinds, pulled the curtains forward, and cast a glance into the adjoining rooms. Then as he closed the