"No!"—said Yúditch:—"with my consent. I myself gave the key to Vasíly Ivánovitch. Dear little father, Vasíly Ivánovitch! why have you deigned to trouble yourself?"
"So that 's who the thief is!"—shouted Iván Andréevitch.—"Thanks, Vasíly, thanks! But I shall not spare thee, Yúditch, all the same. Why didst not thou confess all to me at once? Hey, there, you! why have you stopped? or do you no longer recognise my authority? And I 'll settle with you, my dear little dove!" he added, turning to Vasíly.
The men were on the point of setting to work again on Yúditch.
"Don't touch him!" whispered Vasíly through his teeth. The servants did not heed him.—"Back!" he shouted, and hurled himself upon them.... They staggered back.
"Ah! a rebel!"—moaned Iván Andréevitch, and raising his cane, he advanced on his son.
Vasíly leaped aside, grasped the hilt of his sword, and bared it half-way. All began to tremble. Anna Pávlovna, attracted by the noise, frightened and pale, made her appearance in the doorway.
Iván Andréevitch's face underwent a frightful change. He staggered, dropped his cane, and fell heavily into an arm-chair, covering his face with both hands. No one stirred; all stood as though rooted to the spot, not excepting even Vasíly. He convulsively gripped the steel hilt of his sword, his eyes flashed with a morose, evil gleam....
"Go away all ... begone,"—said Iván Andréevitch in a low voice, without removing his hands from his face.
The whole throng withdrew. Vasíly halted on the threshold, then suddenly tossed his head, embraced Yúditch, kissed his mother's hand ... and two hours later he was no longer in the village. He had departed for Petersburg.