“I will obey you, and I will accept this as the command of God; and may the Lord give me his blessing!” thought Khlobuyoff, as he felt strength and alertness beginning to permeate his soul. His very brain seemed to be stimulated with the hope of escape from his sad and inextricable predicament. Light began to glimmer in the distance.

“And now, permit me to ask you,” said Murazoff, “what sort of a man is that Tchitchikoff?”

“I can tell you incredible things about Tchitchikoff. He is engaged in such transactions—well, do you know, Afanasiy Vasilievitch, that will was certainly forged? The real one has been found—one in which my aunt bequeaths all the property to her lady companions, whom she brought up.”

“You don’t say so! Then, who fabricated the forged will?”

“That is the very point, and a most revolting business it is. They say that Tchitchikoff did it, and that the will was signed after the testator’s death. They dressed up some woman to represent the dead woman, and that person signed it. In short, the affair is of the most rascally description. A thousand appeals have poured in from all quarters; wooers are now flocking to Marya Yeremyevna, who personated the deceased. Indeed two official personages are now quarrelling over her. That’s the sort of a business it is, Afanasiy Vasilievitch.”

“I have heard nothing about this, but there really is something wrong about the matter. I will admit that Pavel Ivanovitch Tchitchikoff is to me an extremely repulsive man,” said Murazoff.

“I have also filed an appeal, in order to remind the officials that an immediate heir is in existence. They may all fight it out among themselves, so far as I am concerned,” thought Khlobuyoff, as he left the house. “Afanasiy Vasilievitch is no fool. He probably thought the matter over before he intrusted this commission to me. All I have to do is to fulfil it.”

He had already begun to meditate on his journey, while Murazoff was still repeating, “Pavel Ivanovitch Tchitchikoff is to me an extremely repulsive man. If he would only display the same perseverance and force of will in a good cause!”

In the meantime, appeal after appeal had been presented to the court. Relatives who had never been heard of before made their appearance. As birds of prey swoop down upon a corpse, so everyone swooped down upon the immense heritage left by the old woman. Denunciations against Tchitchikoff, against the fraudulent will; complaints as to the fraudulent character of the first will as well; charges of theft, and of the concealment of various sums; charges against Tchitchikoff in connection with his purchase of dead souls, and of his introduction of smuggled goods during his service in the custom-house—had already been brought forward.

Everything had been ferreted out, and his former history was generally known. God alone knows how people had got scent of his history, and had unearthed the whole of it! But there were proofs, even with regard to such matters as Tchitchikoff supposed to be known to himself and to the four walls only. All this was a judicial secret for the present, and had not yet reached his ears; although a confidential note from his lawyer, which he received before long, gave him to understand that there was trouble brewing. This note was couched in brief terms: “I hasten to inform you that your business will create a stir, but remember that you are not to feel anxious. The chief thing is—composure. We will settle it all.” This note entirely reassured him. “That man is a real genius!” said Tchitchikoff.

To complete his pleasant frame of mind, the tailor brought home his new suit just at this time. He conceived a strong desire to have a look at himself in his new coat of Navarino smoke and flame; he tightly buckled his trousers, which fitted him wonderfully well in every respect, so that he was a perfect picture. The cloth moulded itself to his hips and claves; it set snugly to his whole form, thereby communicating still greater elasticity to it. When he drew the strap close behind, his stomach seemed just like a drum. He immediately smote it with a brush, and said, “What a fool! but, on the whole, it forms a picture.” It appeared