“Hm! hm! Couldn’t I spend the night in your room, mossoo, because you see——”
“Que desire monsieur?” asked Desforges, with a polite bow.
“Ah! what a pity, mossoo, that you have not yet learnt Russian. Je vais moa chez vous coucher. Do you understand?”
“Monsieur, très volontiers,” replied Desforges, “veuillez donner des ordres en conséquence.”
Anton Pafnoutitch, well satisfied with his knowledge of the French language, went off at once to make the necessary arrangements.
The guests began to wish each other good night, and each retired to the room assigned to him, while Anton Pafnoutitch accompanied the tutor to the wing. The night was dark. Desforges lighted the way with a lantern. Anton Pafnoutitch followed him boldly enough, pressing the hidden treasure occasionally against his breast, in order to convince himself that his money was still there.
On arriving at the wing, the tutor lit a candle and both began to undress; in the meantime Anton Pafnoutitch was walking about the room, examining the locks and windows, and shaking his head at the unassuring inspection. The doors fastened with only one bolt, and the windows had not yet their double frames.[1] He tried to complain to Desforges, but his knowledge of the French language was too limited to enable him to express himself with sufficient clearness. The Frenchman did not understand him, and Anton Pafnoutitch was obliged to cease his complaints. Their beds stood opposite each other; they both lay down, and the tutor extinguished the light.
“Pourquoi vous toucher; pourquoi vous toucher?” cried Anton Pafnoutitch, conjugating the Russian verb to extinguish, after the French manner. “I cannot dormir in the dark.”
Desforges did not understand his exclamations, and wished him good night.
“Accursed pagan!” muttered Spitsin, wrapping himself up in the bedclothes: “he couldn’t do without extinguishing the light. So much the worse for him. I cannot sleep without a light—Mossoo, mossoo,” he continued: “Je ve avec vous parler.”