'Hoofs, hoofs, prints of horse-shoes, fresh prints!' he muttered, speaking hurriedly.' They took him through here, through here!'
He instantly leaped over the fence, and with a shout, 'Malek-Adel! Malek-Adel!' he ran straight into the open country.
Perfishka remained standing bewildered at the fence. The ring of light from the lantern was soon lost to his eyes, swallowed up in the dense darkness of a starless, moonless night.
Fainter and fainter came the sound of the despairing cries of Tchertop-hanov....
VIII
It was daylight when he came home again. He hardly looked like a human being. His clothes were covered with mud, his face had a wild and ferocious expression, his eyes looked dull and sullen. In a hoarse whisper he drove Perfishka away, and locked himself in his room. He could hardly stand with fatigue, but he did not lie on his bed, but sat down on a chair by the door and clutched at his head.
'Stolen!... stolen!...'
But in what way had the thief contrived by night, when the stable was locked, to steal Malek-Adel? Malek-Adel, who would never let a stranger come near him even by day--steal him, too, without noise, without a sound? And how explain that not a yard-dog had barked? It was true there were only two left--two young puppies--and those two probably burrowing in rubbish from cold and hunger--but still!
'And what am I to do now without Malek-Adel?' Tchertop-hanov brooded. 'I've lost my last pleasure now; it's time to die. Buy another horse, seeing the money has come? But where find another horse like that?'
'Panteley Eremyitch! Panteley Eremyitch!' he heard a timid call at the door.