“I have no feelings myself,” soliloquised our hero. “I feel nothing, but I will exert all my powers to cause others to feel; I am evil and worthless myself, but I will use all my strength to convert others to goodness; I am but a poor Christian myself, but I will strain every nerve in order that I may give no cause for offence. I will work, I will toil in the sweat of my brow. In the village I will conduct myself honestly, in order that I may have a good influence on others. Why, after all, should I regard myself as an utter castaway? I have capacity for the management of an estate; I possess the qualities of economy and skill, and good sense, and even of perseverance. All that is necessary is to make up my mind to it.”

After this fashion did Tchitchikoff meditate, and he seemed to be testing the half-awakened powers of his soul. It seemed as though his nature were becoming aware in a dim groping way that there is some duty which must be fulfilled in every situation, in every nook, however remote, despite all the perplexities and disturbances which hover round a man in every position in which he may be placed. And a laborious life, far removed from the uproar of cities, and from those seductions which man has devised in his idleness, unmindful of toil, began to outline itself so distinctly before him, that he almost forgot the unpleasantness of his predicament, and was even prepared to return thanks to providence for that heavy blow if he might regain his liberty and a portion of his——However, at this moment the door of his noisome prison opened, and an official personage entered—Samosvistoff, an epicurean, a clever fellow, with shoulders an arshin⁴ broad, and huge feet, a capital companion, a roisterer, and a thorough brute, as even his comrades expressed themselves in regard to him. In times of war this man would have wrought wonders had he been despatched to make his way through some impenetrable perilous place, to crawl in under the very mouths of the enemy’s cannon: it would have been the very work for him. After having missed a military career, which might have made an honest man of him, he had set all his powers to the task of rendering himself as vile as possible. And, incredible to state, he possessed extraordinary convictions and principles; he behaved well with his comrades, never betrayed any of them, and having given his word, he kept it; but as for the official personages of a higher rank than his own, he regarded them in the light of a hostile battery, through which it behoved him to make his way, taking advantage of every weak spot, of every breach, of all lack of watchfulness.

“I know all about your situation: I have heard everything,” he said, when he saw that the door was closed behind him. “Have no fears, none; all will be set right. Everybody has set to work on your behalf, and we are all at your service. Thirty thousand will suffice for all, not a rouble more.”

“Done!” exclaimed Tchitchikoff. “And shall I be set completely at liberty?”

“Completely. You will even receive compensation for your losses.”

“And for the trouble?”

“Thirty thousand roubles. That is for all of us—our people, the governor-general, and his secretary.”

“But excuse me, how can I? All my effects, my dressing-case, and the rest, are now under seal, under supervision.”

“You will receive everything an hour hence. Shall we strike hands on the bargain?”

Tchitchikoff gave his hand. His heart beat fast and he could not believe that this was possible.

“Farewell for the present. I was commissioned by our mutual friend to tell you that the principal thing is—composure, and presence of mind.”

“H’m!” thought Tchitchikoff: “I understand; the lawyer.”

Thereupon Samosvistoff disappeared. Tchitchikoff, left alone once more, had not yet succeeded in believing his words, when an hour later, his dressing-case and papers were brought to him, and what is more, in the very best of order. Samosvistoff played the part of director; he scolded the sentinels posted at our