Gavríla scratched behind his ear.
"No, brother,"—he went on at last;—"do thou poke the coat through thyself, if thou wishest."
"Why, certainly!"
And Stepán scrambled up, took a stick, thrust the coat inside, and began to wiggle the stick about in the opening, saying: "Come forth, come forth!" He was still wiggling the stick when the door of the little chamber flew suddenly and swiftly open—and the whole train of menials rolled head over heels down the stairs, Gavríla in the lead. Uncle Tail shut the window.
"Come, come, come, come!"—shouted Gavríla from the courtyard;—"just look out, look out!"
Gerásim stood motionless on the threshold. The crowd assembled at the foot of the staircase. Gerásim stared at all these petty folk in their foreign kaftans from above, with his arms lightly set akimbo; in his scarlet peasant shirt he seemed like a giant in comparison with them. Gavríla advanced a pace.
"See here, brother,"—said he:—"I 'll take none of thy impudence."
And he began to explain to him by signs: "The mistress insists upon having thy dog: hand it over instantly, or 't will be the worse for thee."
Gerásim looked at him, pointed to the dog, made a sign with his hand at his own neck, as though he were drawing up a noose, and cast an inquiring glance at the major-domo.
"Yes, yes,"—replied the latter, nodding his head;—"yes, she insists."