"Well, I don't care, I love to be about the woods at night myself. But when shall we get to the district magistrate? He will blow me up, it is late."
"Rubbish, he won't blow you up."
"I suppose you'll say a little word on our behalf, eh?" remarked the Sotsky with a smile.
"I may."
"Oh—ai!"
"What do you mean?"
"You're a joker. He'll pepper you finely."
"Flog me, eh?"
"He's cruel! And quick to box one's ears, and at any rate you'll leave him a little groggy on your pins."
"Well, well, we'll make it all right with him," said the prisoner confidently, at the same time giving his escort a friendly tap on the shoulder.