The lad picked up the ring, and ran off with all his might, and in three minutes he arrived at the sacred tree. There he paused, quite out of breath, and after looking round on every side, placed the ring in the hollow. Having successfully accomplished his mission, he wanted to inform Maria Kirilovna of the fact at once, when suddenly a red-haired ragged boy darted out from behind the arbour, dashed towards the oak and thrust his hand into the hole. Sasha, quicker than a squirrel, threw himself upon him and seized him with both hands.
“What are you doing here?” said he sternly.
“What business is that of yours?” said the boy, trying to disengage himself.
“Leave that ring alone, red head,” cried Sasha, “or I will teach you a lesson in my own style.”
Instead of replying, the boy gave him a blow in the face with his fist; but Sasha still held him firmly in his grasp, and cried out at the top of his voice:
“Thieves! thieves! help! help!”
The boy tried to get away from him. He seemed to be about two years older than Sasha, and very much stronger; but Sasha was more agile. They struggled together for some minutes; at last the red-headed boy gained the advantage. He threw Sasha upon the ground and seized him by the throat. But at that moment a strong hand grasped hold of his shaggy red hair, and Stepan, the gardener, lifted him half a yard from the ground.
“Ah! you red-headed beast!” said the gardener. “How dare you strike the young gentleman?”
In the meantime, Sasha had jumped to his feet and recovered himself.
“You caught me under the arm-pits,” said he, “or you would never have thrown me. Give me the ring at once and be off.”