CHAPTER XXI
Rachmanof glared at me for a moment.
‘So!’ he said. ‘You again! Well, it is bad luck for you, my friend, that I have caught you, for this time you shall not escape me: you have a reckoning unpaid!’
‘Oh, I will pay it twice over, friend!’ I said. ‘Here is my money-bag!’ I tapped my sword and laughed.
‘Let the old scarecrow run,’ said Rachmanof, half turning his head towards his companions; ‘let her pass, Cossack, she will be in our way. Disappear you also, shameless old hag,’ he continued, wagging his finger at the Superior. ‘A fine mother of innocent maidens, you! Fie! A man in the house, and of all men a filthy Cossack! Fie, I say!’
‘Rachmanof,’ I muttered, ‘for that speech you shall die if I can kill you. Go, mother, go into the ante-room, and pray your hardest that I may kill this beast.’
‘Yes, pray your hardest,’ laughed Rachmanof; ‘he will need it!’
‘Fight in God’s name,’ said the good old woman, disappearing into the ante-room. ‘I will pray for God’s curse upon those who invade this holy house.’
The old doorkeeper pushed past Rachmanof and disappeared also, crying and muttering prayers or curses, or I know not what. The two Streltsi fellows came several steps higher towards Rachmanof.
Then the fight began without further delay.