Tchertop-hanov jumped on to his feet.
'Who is it?' he shouted in a voice not his own.
'It's I, your groom, Perfishka.'
'What do you want? Is he found? has he run home?'
'No, Panteley Eremyitch; but that Jew chap who sold him.'...
'Well?'
'He's come.'
'Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho!' yelled Tchertop-hanov, and he at once flung open the door. 'Drag him here! drag him along!'
On seeing the sudden apparition of his 'benefactor's' dishevelled, wild-looking figure, the Jew, who was standing behind Perfishka's back, tried to give them the slip; but Tchertop-hanov, in two bounds, was upon him, and like a tiger flew at his throat.
'Ah! he's come for the money! for the money!' he cried as hoarsely as though he were being strangled himself instead of strangling the Jew; 'you stole him by night, and are come by day for the money, eh? Eh? Eh?'