"My good friend, Mishinka [diminutive of Michael], I beg of you to consider the importance and solemnity of this holy-day. Do not sin, for Christ's sake. Let the poor moujiks go home."Michael laughed, but made no reply to his wife's humane request.
Finally he said to her:
"You've not been whipped for a very long time, and now you have become bold enough to interfere in affairs that are not your own.""Mishinka," she persisted, "I have had a frightful dream concerning you. You had better let the moujiks go.""Yes," said he; "I perceive that you have gained so much flesh of late that you think you would not feel the whip. Lookout!"Rudely thrusting his hot pipe against her cheek, Michael chased his wife from the room, after which he ordered his dinner. After eating a hearty meal consisting of cabbage-soup, roast pig, meat-cake, pastry with milk, jelly, sweet cakes, and vodki, he called his woman cook to him and ordered her to be seated and sing songs, Simeonovitch accompanying her on the guitar.
While the superintendent was thus enjoying himself to the fullest satisfaction in the musical society of his cook the elder returned, and, making a low bow to his superior, proceeded to give the desired information concerning the serfs.
"Well," asked Michael, "did they plough?"
"Yes," replied the elder; "they have accomplished about half the field.""Is there no fault to be found?"
"Not that I could discover. The work seems to be well done.
They are evidently afraid of you."
"How is the soil?"
"Very good. It appears to be quite soft."
"Well," said Simeonovitch, after a pause, "what did they say about me? Cursed me, I suppose?"As the elder hesitated somewhat, Michael commanded him to speak and tell him the whole truth. "Tell me all," said he; "I want to know their exact words. If you tell me the truth I shall reward you; but if you conceal anything from me you will be punished.
See here, Catherine, pour out a glass of vodki to give him courage!"After drinking to the health of his superior, the elder said to himself: "It is not my fault if they do not praise him. I shall tell him the truth." Then turning suddenly to the superintendent he said:
"They complain, Michael Simeonovitch! They complain bitterly.""But what did they say?" demanded Michael. "Tell me!""Well, one thing they said was, 'He does not believe in God.'"Michael laughed. "Who said that?" he asked.
"It seemed to be their unanimous opinion. 'He has been overcome by the Evil One,' they said.""Very good," laughed the superintendent; "but tell me what each of them said. What did Vasili say?"The elder did not wish to betray his people, but he had a certain grudge against Vasili, and he said:
"He cursed you more than did any of the others.""But what did he say?"
"It is awful to repeat it, sir. Vasili said, 'He shall die like a dog, having no chance to repent!'""Oh, the villain!" exclaimed Michael. "He would kill me if he were not afraid. All right, Vasili; we shall have an accounting with you. And Tishka--he called me a dog, I suppose?""Well," said the elder, "they all spoke of you in anything but complimentary terms; but it is mean in me to repeat what they said.""Mean or not you must tell me, I say!"
"Some of them declared that your back should be broken."Simeonovitch appeared to enjoy this immensely, for he laughed outright. "We shall see whose back will be the first to be broken," said he. "Was that Tishka's opinion? While I did not suppose they would say anything good about me, I did not expect such curses and threats. And Peter Mikhayeff--was that fool cursing me too?""No; he did not curse you at all. He appeared to be the only silent one among them. Mikhayeff is a very wise moujik, and he surprises me very much. At his actions all the other peasants seemed amazed.""What did he do?"
