“The man must be an absolute fool,” commented the General.
“Possibly. And were that all, things would not be as bad as they are. But, unfortunately, my uncle has gone and taken up with his housekeeper, and has had children by her. Consequently, everything will now pass to THEM.”
“The old man must have taken leave of his senses,” remarked the General. “Yet how I can help you I fail to see.”
“Well, I have thought of a plan. If you will hand me over all the dead souls on your estate—hand them over to me exactly as though they were still alive, and were purchasable property—I will offer them to the old man, and then he will leave me his fortune.”
At this point the General burst into a roar of laughter such as few can ever have heard. Half-dressed, he subsided into a chair, threw back his head, and guffawed until he came near to choking. In fact, the house shook with his merriment, so much so that the butler and his daughter came running into the room in alarm.
It was long before he could produce a single articulate word; and even when he did so (to reassure his daughter and the butler) he kept momentarily relapsing into spluttering chuckles which made the house ring and ring again.
Chichikov was greatly taken aback.
“Oh, that uncle!” bellowed the General in paroxysms of mirth. “Oh, that blessed uncle! WHAT a fool he’ll look! Ha, ha, ha! Dead souls offered him instead of live ones! Oh, my goodness!”
“I suppose I’ve put my foot in it again,” ruefully reflected Chichikov. “But, good Lord, what a man the fellow is to laugh! Heaven send that he doesn’t burst of it!”
“Ha, ha, ha!” broke out the General afresh. “WHAT a donkey the old man must be! To think of his saying to you: ‘You go and fit yourself out with three hundred souls, and I’ll cap them with my own lot’! My word! What a jackass!”