“I cannot understand it,” said Tchitchikoff. “Ten millions, and he lives like a simple moujik! The deuce only knows what might be done with those ten millions! It might be so employed that you would have no society lower than that of generals and princes.”

“Yes, sir,” added the shopman. “With all Afanasiy Vasilievitch’s fine qualities, there is much that is uncultivated about him. If a merchant acquires honours he is no longer a merchant: he is already after a fashion a wholesale dealer. In those circumstances I should feel bound to take a box at the theatre, and I would not marry my daughter to a simple colonel: no, sir, I would wed her to a general. What’s a colonel to me? And my dinner would be prepared by the confectioner, and not by the cook any longer.”

“Well, what’s the use of talking? Pray cease all this,” said Vishnepokromoff. “What couldn’t one do with ten millions? Only give me ten millions, and you would see what I would do!”

“No, no,” thought Tchitchikoff: “much good you would do with ten millions. But if I only had ten millions, I would really accomplish something proper with them.”

“Ah! if I had ten millions, after all these terrible experiences,” said Khlobuyoff to himself. “Experience teaches one the value of every copeck. Eh! I am not now as I was.” And after a moment’s thought, he asked himself, “Would you really know how to manage your affairs now?” Then, with a show of his hand he added, “What the deuce! I believe that I would squander it now exactly as I did before!” And he quitted the shop, burning with curiosity to know what Murazoff had to say to him.

“I am waiting for you, Semyon Semyonovitch,” said Murazoff to Khlobuyoff, as he entered the house. “Please come to my room.” And he then led Khlobuyoff into his private room, and which was no more comfortable than that of an official who received a paltry salary of some six or seven hundred roubles a year.

“Pray tell me: I suppose you are in a little better circumstances now? You have surely received something, now that your aunt is dead?”

“What am I to say to you, Afanasiy Vasilievitch? I do not know whether my circumstances are improved or not. I have received thirty thousand roubles, with which I must pay off a portion of my debts; and beyond that I have nothing whatever. But the principal point is that things are not just as they should be in connection with that will. There has been some rascality about it, Afanasiy Vasilievitch. I will tell you about it directly, and you will be amazed that such a transaction could take place. That Tchitchikoff——”

“Excuse me, Semyon Semyonovitch; before talking of Tchitchikoff, permit me to speak about yourself. Tell me how much, according to your calculations, would be sufficient to set your affairs entirely to rights?”

“My affairs are in a very perplexing state,” answered Khlobuyoff. “In order to straighten them out, pay off my debts, and be in a condition to live in the most modest manner, I should need one hundred thousand roubles, if not more.”

“And if you had that, how would you order your life?”

“Well, I should take some inexpensive lodgings, and occupy myself with the education of my children. There is no use in thinking of myself; my career is ended, I am no longer good for anything.”

“But your life will in that case remain an idle one; and in an idle life temptations arise which a man would never dream of when busy with work.”

“I cannot; I am good for nothing; I have grown stupid and my loins pain me.”

“But how can one live without work? How can one exist in the world without duties, without a place of one’s own, pray? Look at every one of God’s creatures. Every one of them has some service to perform,