The funeral was evidently of some person of considerable importance, for the train of private and hired vehicles was a very long one; and at the window of one of these carriages in the procession Velchaninoff suddenly beheld the face of Pavel Pavlovitch.
Velchaninoff would not have believed his eyes, but that Pavel Pavlovitch nodded his head and smiled to him. He seemed to be delighted to have recognised Velchaninoff; he even began to kiss his hand out of the window.
Velchaninoff jumped out of his own vehicle, and in spite of policemen, crowd, and everything else, elbowed his way to Pavel Pavlovitch's carriage window. He found the latter sitting alone.
“What are you doing?” he cried. “Why didn't you come to my house? Why are you here?”
“I'm paying a debt; don't shout so! I'm repaying a debt,” said Pavel Pavlovitch, giggling and winking. “I'm escorting the mortal remains of my dear friend Stepan Michailovitch Bagantoff!”
“What absurdity, you drunken, insane creature,” cried Velchaninoff louder than ever, and beside himself with outraged feeling. “Get out and come with me. Quick! get out instantly!”
“I can't. It's a debt——”
“I'll pull you out, then!” shouted Velchaninoff.
“Then I'll scream, sir, I'll scream!” giggled Pavel Pavlovitch, as merrily as ever, just as though the whole thing was a joke. However, he retreated into the further corner of the carriage, all the same.
“Look out, sir, look out! You'll be knocked down!” cried a policeman.