were harshly symmetrical and covered with numerous pock-marks, so that it was said that the Devil came by night to grind his peas on his countenance.
It seemed as though it were not in the power of mortal man to insinuate himself into the good graces of such a person, but Tchitchikoff made the experiment. At first he began by pleasing him in all sorts of insignificant trifles: he looked carefully after the mending of his pens, and laid them close to his hand; he blew and swept all the spilt sand and tobacco from his superior’s table, he brought him a fresh rag for his ink-bottle; he hunted up his hat for him—the shabbiest hat that ever existed in this world—and on each occasion laid it at his elbow at the very moment when the office closed; he brushed his back if it had become dirty through contact with the whitening on the walls. But all this passed by absolutely unnoticed, as though nothing of the sort had been done. At length Tchitchikoff got wind of his superior’s home and family life: he learned that he had a marriageable daughter, who also possessed one of those faces which looked as though peas had been ground upon it, and he meditated making an attack in that quarter.
Having found out what church she attended on Sundays, he placed himself right opposite her every week, cleanly dressed, with a well-starched shirt-front; and the manœuvre was a success: the grim chief wavered, and invited him to tea. Then before they had time to look about them in the office, Tchitchikoff had transferred himself to the chief’s house, had become necessary, indispensable to him. He purchased his flour and sugar; he behaved to the daughter as though she were his betrothed; called the chief “papa,” and kissed his hand. Everyone in the chancellery came to the conclusion that the wedding would take place at the end of February, before the beginning of the long fast. The stern head of the department even began to interest himself on Tchitchikoff’s behalf with the authorities and in a short time our hero was given a vacant appointment which had been discovered. This, to all appearances, was the principal object of his connection with his superior; for his trunk was immediately and clandestinely removed from the latter’s house, and on the following day he was settled in new quarters. He ceased to call the chief “papa,” and no longer kissed his hand; the subject of the marriage, too, was dropped, as though there had never existed any idea of such a thing. However, he once met the old gentleman, and, pressing his hand in a flattering way, he invited him to tea; so that the old chief, in spite of his eternal immobility and hard indifference, shook his head every time that he thought of it, and muttered to himself. “He cheated me, he deceived me, that son of the Devil!”
This was the most difficult threshold which our hero stepped across. From that time on, he progressed more easily and with more success. He became a man of note. He appeared to have every quality which is adapted to this world—an agreeable way of dealing with people, and suitable boldness in handling matters of business. By these means, he shortly gained what is called a lucrative position, and availed himself of it in the most superior manner. The reader must be informed that, at that time, the strictest prosecution was instituted for every description of bribe-taking. This did not alarm our hero, however; he immediately proceeded to turn it to his own account, displaying thereby genuine Russian ingenuity, which only shows itself in cases of emergency. This is how he arranged matters. As soon as a petitioner made his appearance and thrust his hand into his pocket, in order to draw therefrom the familiar letter of recommendation, with the signature of Prince Khovansky, as we used to express ourselves in Russia at that period,4 Tchitchikoff would stay his hand, saying with a smile, “No, no, you think that I—no, no! this is our duty; we are under obligations to do it; we must do it without any remuneration. You may rest easy on that point: everything will be completed to-morrow. Allow me to enquire where you are lodging? It is not necessary that you should put yourself to any personal trouble: everything will be brought to you at your own house.”
The delighted applicant returned home almost in a state of ecstasy, thinking, “Here, at last, is a man of a kind which we ought to have more of: he is simply a precious diamond!”
But the petitioner waits one day, two days—and the matter is not brought to his house; the third day it is the same. He betakes himself to the office: the affair has not even been touched. Then he applies to the precious diamond: “Ah, excuse me!” says Tchitchikoff very courteously, seizing him by both hands. “We