Vassily laughed.
"Fight? That's not for a gentleman! To fight with a servant!"
David suddenly caught hold of Vassily's waistcoat.
"But we are not going to fight you with our fists," he articulated, grinding his teeth. "Understand that! I'll give you a knife and take one myself.... And then we shall see who does for which? Alexey!" he began commanding me, "run for my big knife, you know the one with the bone handle--it's lying on the table and the other's in my pocket."
Vassily positively collapsed. David stood holding him by the waistcoat.
"Mercy on us! ... Mercy on us, David Yegoritch!" he muttered; tears actually came into his eyes. "What do you mean, what are you saying? Let me go."
"I won't let you go. And we shall have no mercy on you! If you get away from us today, we shall begin again to-morrow. Alyoshka, where's the knife?"
"David Yegoritch," wailed Vassily, "don't commit murder.... What are you doing! The watch ... I certainly ... I was joking. I'll give it to you this minute. What a thing, to be sure! First you are going to slit Hrisanf Lukitch's belly, then mine. Let me go, David Yegoritch.... Kindly take the watch. Only don't tell your papa."
David let go his hold of Vassily's waistcoat. I looked into his face: certainly not only Vassily might have been frightened by it. It looked so weary ... and cold ... and angry....
Vassily dashed into the house and promptly returned with the watch in his hand. He gave it to David without a word and only on going back into the house exclaimed aloud in the doorway: