“Akh,”—cried she,—“what are you doing? Why, she will bite us all dreadfully!”
“Pardon me,”—said I,—“the poison does not take effect so soon.”
“Akh,”—said she,—“how is that possible? Why, you have gone out of your mind!”
“Nimfótchka,”—said I,—“calm thyself; listen to reason....”
But all at once she began to scream: “Go away; go away this instant with your disgusting dog!”
“I will go,”—said I.
“Instantly,”—said she,—“this very second! Take thyself off, brigand,”—said she,—“and don’t dare ever to show yourself in my sight again. Thou mightest go mad thyself!”
“Very good, ma’am,”—said I; “only give me an equipage, for I am afraid to go home on foot now.”
She riveted her eyes on me. “Give, give him a calash, a carriage, a drozhky, whatever he wants,—anything, for the sake of getting rid of him as quickly as possible. Akh, what eyes! akh, what eyes he has!”—And with these words she flew out of the room, dealing a maid who was entering a box on the ear,—and I heard her go off into another fit of hysterics.—And you may believe me or not, gentlemen, but from that day forth I broke off all acquaintance with Nimfodóra Semyónovna; and, taking all things into mature consideration, I cannot but add that for that circumstance also I owe my friend Tresór a debt of gratitude until I lie down in my coffin.
Well, sir, I ordered a calash to be harnessed, placed Tresór in it, and drove off home with her. At home I looked her over, washed her wounds, and thought to myself: “I’ll take her to-morrow, as soon as it is light, to the wizard in Efrém County. Now this wizard was an old peasant, a wonderful man; he would whisper over water—but others say that he emitted serpents’ venom on it—and give it to you to drink, and your malady would instantly disappear. By the way, I thought, I’ll get myself bled in Efrémovo; ’tis a good remedy for terror; only, of course, not from the arm, but from the bleeding-vein.”