Jilin was silent.
Abdul-Murat now began to speak, pointing at Jilin and laughing. “A soldier Russ, a good Russ,” he said.
And the interpreter said, “He wants you to write home asking your people to send a ransom for you. When the money comes, he will let you go.”
Jilin reflected and said, “How much does he want?”
The Tartars deliberated among themselves; the interpreter said, “Three thousand roubles.”
“I can’t pay as much as that,” Jilin said.
Abdul leapt up and began to gesticulate violently. He was saying something to Jilin, thinking that he would understand.
“How much will you give?” the interpreter asked.
After reflection Jilin said, “Five hundred roubles.”
At this the Tartars all began talking together. Abdul shouted at the red-bearded Tartar, jabbering away till he foamed at the mouth. The red-bearded Tartar merely frowned and clacked his tongue.