"But why … well, I invite him also."
Mísha reflected.—"Only look out … for thou didst turn me out of doors…. Don't think thou art going to get off with one bottle!"
"Do not worry … there will be as much as you wish of everything."
Mísha flung aside his spade…. "Well, Timósha," he said, addressing his old man-nurse, "let us honour the host…. Come along!"
"I obey," replied the old man.
And all three wended their way toward the house.
The speculator knew with whom he had to deal. Mísha made him promise as a preliminary, it is true, that he would "allow all privileges" to the peasants;—but an hour later that same Mísha, together with Timoféi, both drunk, danced a gallopade through those rooms where the pious shade of Andréi Nikoláitch seemed still to be hovering; and an hour later still, Mísha, so sound asleep that he could not be waked (liquor was his great weakness), was placed in a peasant-cart, together with his kazák cap and his dagger, and sent off to the town, five-and-twenty versts distant,—and there was found under a fence…. Well, and Timoféi, who still kept his feet and merely hiccoughed, was "pitched out neck and crop," as a matter of course. The master had made a failure of his attempt. So they might as well let the servant pay the penalty!
VI
Again considerable time elapsed and I heard nothing of Mísha…. God knows where he had vanished.—One day, as I was sitting before the samovár at a posting-station on the T—— highway, waiting for horses, I suddenly heard, under the open window of the station-room, a hoarse voice uttering in French:—"Monsieur … monsieur … prenez pitié d'un pauvre gentilhomme ruiné!"…. I raised my head and looked…. The kazák cap with the fur peeled off, the broken cartridge-pouches on the tattered Circassian coat, the dagger in a cracked sheath, the bloated but still rosy face, the dishevelled but still thick hair…. My God! It was Mísha! He had already come to begging alms on the highways!—I involuntarily uttered an exclamation. He recognised me, shuddered, turned away, and was about to withdraw from the window. I stopped him … but what was there that I could say to him? Certainly I could not read him a lecture!… In silence I offered him a five-ruble bank-note. With equal silence he grasped it in his still white and plump, though trembling and dirty hand, and disappeared round the corner of the house.
They did not furnish me with horses very promptly, and I had time to indulge in cheerless meditations on the subject of my unexpected encounter with Mísha. I felt conscience-stricken that I had let him go in so unsympathetic a manner.—At last I proceeded on my journey, and after driving half a verst from the posting-station I observed, ahead of me on the road, a crowd of people moving along with a strange and as it were measured tread. I overtook this crowd,—and what did I see?—Twelve beggars, with wallets on their shoulders, were walking by twos, singing and skipping as they went,—-and at their head danced Mísha, stamping time with his feet and saying: "Natchiki-tchikaldi, tchuk-tchuk-tchuk! Natchiki-tchikaldi, tchuk-tchuk-tchuk!"