"Thou goat! Thou nasty cur! Why dost thou tell us to go? Better have a care of thy goat forehead!"
"Are ye threatening?"
Here Martsian shook his sabre and pushed up to the brothers. They too grasped at their weapons.
But at that moment the offended voice of the prelate was heard there behind them,--
"Gracious gentlemen, the dead man is not cold yet."
The Sulgostovskis were terribly ashamed, and one of them said,--
"Reverend prelate, we are not to blame; we have our own bread and do not desire that of others, but this serpent is beginning to sting, and wishes to drive people out of this mansion."
"What people? Whom?"
"Whomever he comes upon. To-day us, whom he has ordered away, to-morrow, perhaps, the orphan bride living under this roof here."
"That is untrue! untrue!" cried Martsian.