Tchelkache spat in the wide opened eyes of his employe.
The other humbly wiped them with his sleeve, and murmured:
"Do what you will . . . I'll not say one word. Pardon me, in the name of Heaven!"
"Fool, you don't even know how to steal!" cried Tchelkache, contemptuously. He tore his shirt under his waistcoat and, gritting his teeth in silence, began to bandage his head.
"Have you taken the money?" he asked, at last.
"I haven't taken it, brother; I don't want it! It brings bad luck!"
Tchelkache thrust his hand into his waistcoat pocket, withdrew the package of bills, put one of them in his pocket and threw all the rest at Gavrilo.
"Take that and be off!"
"I cannot take it . . . I cannot! Forgive me!"
"Take it, I tell you!" roared Tchelkache, rolling his eyes frightfully.