"Oh art thou in such company?" asked Lukash, as he turned to Stanislav.
All four brothers put their hands on their hips and cast challenging glances at Yatsek.
Yatsek seized a chair and, pushing it to the middle of the chamber, turned to the Bukoyemskis with a sudden movement; then he sat astride of the chair, as on horseback, rested his elbows on the back of it, raised his head, and answered with equally challenging glances. Thus were they opposed then; he, with feet stretching widely apart in his Swedish boots, they, shoulder to shoulder, quarrelsome, threatening, enormous.
Stanislav saw that it was coming to a quarrel, but he wished to laugh at the same time. Thinking that he could hinder a collision at any instant he let them gaze at one another.
"Eh, what a bold fellow," thought he of Yatsek, "nothing confuses him."
The silence continued, at once unendurable and ridiculous. Yatsek himself felt this, also, for he was the first man to break it.
"Sit down, young sirs," said he, "not only do I invite, but I beg you."
The Bukoyemskis looked at one another with astonishment, this new turn confused them.
"How is this? What is it? Of what is he thinking?"
"I beg you, I beg you," repeated Yatsek, and he pointed to benches.