"You see, they were afraid I should do something to myself," replied Ilyushka smiling. "I wouldn't have done any thing, of course. I sha'n't be ruined by going as a soldier; but I'm sorry for the old woman. Why did they make me marry?" he repeated in a soft and melancholy tone.
The door opened, squeaking loudly, and the old man Dutlof, shaking the wet from his hat, came into the room in his huge sabots, which fitted his feet almost like canoes.
"Afanási," said he, crossing himself and addressing the porter,[13] "isn't there some one to hold a lantern while I give the horses their oats?"
Dutlof did not look at his nephew, but quietly busied himself with making a candle-end burn. His glove and whip were thrust into his belt, and his cloak was closely buttoned; he had just come with the baggage. His ordinarily calm, peaceful, and thoughtful face was full of care.
Ilya, when he saw his uncle, stopped talking, again turned his eyes gloomily toward the bench, and then addressing the stárosta said,—
"Give me some vodka, Yermil; I want something to drink."
His voice was angry and stern.
"This is no time for wine now," replied the stárosta, sipping his cup of kvas.—"Don't you see the folks have gone to bed? What do you want to make a disturbance for?"
The words "make a disturbance" apparently suggested to him the idea of making a disturbance.