"Very well, then, my good Sir, I am ready to let you have them for fifteen roubles, in bank notes; but pray remember me in your contracts of supply; if you should want to purchase some rye-flour, oatmeal, or some wheat, and some cattle, then please do not forget to treat me as a friend."
"I shall not take any advantage over you, my worthy woman," said Tchichikoff; meanwhile he used his hand to wipe away the perspiration from his forehead, which was running down his face in three large streams. He inquired of her, if she had perchance, an agent in town, or a friend whom she could intrust with the signature of the contract of sale in her name, and any other authorization that might be deemed necessary in the completion of the document.
"To be sure I have, the proto-pope's father, Kirilla's son, serves in the very government office in which you will have to sign the papers," answered the widow. Tchichikoff asked her to address him a letter of authorization, and in order to avoid her any further trouble, offered to compose and write it out for her.
"It would be a good thing," thought Lady Korobotchka, "if he would contract for some of my grains and cattle, I must try to please him now: let me see? yes, there is some of yesterday's paste still left. I'll go and tell Fetinia to make him some pancakes; it would be also a good idea to bake him a sweet cake stuffed with eggs, I know they bake it well in my house, and besides it will take but little time and trouble."
The good old lady left the room with the intention of carrying out her hospitable projects about the sweet egg cakes, to which no doubt she meant to make the addition of a few more of the eatables that are generally stored up in the household of Russian families living in the country. Tchichikoff made use of this opportunity, and entered the reception-room in which he had passed the night, with the intention of taking the necessary writing materials from his dressing-case. The reception-room was already swept, and in good order, the luxurious feather-bed had been removed, a table was placed before the sofa, and covered with a white cloth. After depositing his dressing-case upon the table, Tchichikoff sat down to rest himself a little, because he felt himself as wet from perspiration as if he had been plunged into the river; every article of his dress, beginning from the shirt down to his stockings, was ringing wet.
"Ough! how mercilessly the old tiger cat has treated me to be sure!" said he, after taking breath again, and opening his dressing-case.
The author is of opinion, that there are a great many readers, who are sufficiently inquisitive to wish to know something more about the construction of the inner compartments of this dressing-case, made in the French style by some Russian mechanic. If we are right, why should we not gratify them? Here then is the interior arrangements: in the centre, you may imagine you behold the shaving apparatus, such as brushes and soap box, next to them, six or seven partitions for razors; then on either side, a square opening for ink and sand-stands, with a hollow or curved shelf for pens, pencils, sealing wax, and all such things of longitude; then again a few more partitions, with and without covers, for such articles as are of a shorter kind, and they were filled with visiting cards, invitations to christenings and funerals, playbills, and a variety of other small articles, which he secured to keep as souvenirs. All this upper division, with its various compartments could be taken out, and you would have seen a space occupied by heaps of writing paper of all sizes, then followed a small but hidden box of money, which was opened by a secret spring fixed in the side of the case. He always had the habit of opening this money-safe so hurriedly, that it was quite impossible to see how much money he carried about with him when travelling. After having produced the necessary material, Tchichikoff arranged his pen and began to write. At that moment Lady Korobotchka entered the room.
"What a pretty dressing-case you have, my good Sir," said the widow to him, whilst sitting down close to him. "No doubt you bought that pretty box in Moscow?"
"Yes, my lady, in Moscow," answered Tchichikoff, continuing to write.
"Thought as much; for everything is well made there. About three years ago, my sister bought some warm shoes for her children, and they were so well made, that they have lasted them even till now; the material is excellent in Moscow! Oh, ye saints, what a collection of stamped papers you have there!" she continued, whilst casting a look into his dressing-case.