After saying this, he could not help looking with an air of suspicion even upon Tchichikoff. Such traits of unusual generosity began to appear to him quite impossible, and he thought to himself:—
"The devil knows him and where he comes from; he might be a man fond of boasting, like all those military spendthrifts; he will humbug me just to have something to boast about, drink my tea, eat my cake, and then say farewell!"
After reasoning thus with himself, he came to the conclusion that it would be better to be careful and test the honesty of his strange guest, and he therefore proposed that it would be a good thing to proceed at once to the drawing up of the contract of sale, because man was mortal; to-day alive, and to-morrow heaven knows where.
[CHAPTER IV.]
Tchichikoff assured the old miser of his readiness to conclude the contract that very minute, and only demanded a list of all the peasants that were now to become his property.
This readiness considerably tranquillized Pluschkin. It was obvious that he was trying to remember or do something, and really, after a few moments of reflection and hesitation, he approached his cupboard, produced a bunch of keys, and opened the glass doors of it, he was a considerable time in removing a number of decanters, wine glasses, and cups, and at last exclaimed: "It is impossible for me to find it now, I had some sweet liquors of cream, provided my servants have not drunk it! they are so disobedient! Ah, should this perhaps be it?"
Tchichikoff now beheld a small decanter in his hands, which was thickly covered by a coat of dust. "This was distilled by my late and much lamented wife," continued Pluschkin; "my roguish housekeeper seems to have completely mislaid it, and has not even put the cork in, the negligent old wretch! Cobwebs, spiders, and dies have fallen into the bottle, however, I have removed them, and will now pour out some for you, a nice and clean glass full."
But Tchichikoff respectfully declined to taste any of such liquor, saying that he had already been eating and drinking.
"You have already been eating and drinking;" said Pluschkin. "Yes, truly, a well-bred man may be recognised by the smallest trifles; he does not eat, and yet is fed; but when some of those hungry and dishonest run-abouts come, you may feed them as long as you like. The Captain for instance—who visits me by far too often; 'dear uncle,' he is accustomed to say, 'pray let me have first something to eat!' and after all, I am as dear an uncle to him as he is a nephew to me. I have not the least doubt, but the young fellow has nothing to eat at home, and of course keeps annoying me, and running about everywhere. But, by the bye, I think you will require a list of all these idlers? To be sure, whenever one of them died, I made it a point to note down his name, so as to have them ready for being scratched off at the approaching census."