'Ah!' shouted Tchertop-hanov,' of yourself, of yourself you have come to your death! So, there!'
In the twinkling of an eye he had snatched out his pistol, drawn the trigger, turned the muzzle on Malek-Adel's brow, fired....
The poor horse sprung aside, rose on its haunches, bounded ten paces away, and suddenly fell heavily, and gasped as it writhed upon the ground....
Tchertop-hanov put his two hands over his ears and ran away. His knees were shaking under him. His drunkenness and revenge and blind self-confidence--all had flown at once. There was left nothing but a sense of shame and loathing--and the consciousness, unmistakeable, that this time he had put an end to himself too.
XVI
Six weeks later, the groom Perfishka thought it his duty to stop the commissioner of police as he happened to be passing Bezsonovo.
'What do you want?' inquired the guardian of order.
'If you please, your excellency, come into our house,' answered the groom with a low bow.
'Panteley Eremyitch, I fancy, is about to die; so that I'm afraid of getting into trouble.'
'What? die?' queried the commissioner.