"Farewell, my excellent lady! But stop, where is your little girl?"
"Come here, Pelagey," said the widow addressing herself to a little girl of about eleven years, who was standing close by, dressed in a home-woven woollen frock, and with bare feet, which, at a distance might have been mistaken for boots, so much they were besmeared with fresh mud. "Go with this gentleman, and lead him upon the high road."
Selifan assisted her to get upon his seat, in doing this she put one of her dirty feet upon the carriage steps, and after leaving a mark behind, she at last took her seat next to Selifan. After he had seen her safely seated, Tchichikoff in his turn put his foot upon his carriage steps, and after making it visibly incline on the right hand side—because he was rather weighty—he at last took his seat comfortably, and said: "Oh! now I am all right! farewell, my good lady!"
The horses moved on, and the carriage left the court-yard. Selifan was sulky during the whole journey, but at the same time very careful and attentive in the observance of his duty as a driver, which always happened when he had been negligent or drunk. His horses were exceeding clean, as well as their harness and the britchka. The horse collar of one of the three horses, which was usually put on its neck in so dilapidated a state, that the hemp was visible under the leather, was now cleverly sewn up. During the whole time he continued to be speechless, and now and then only lifted his whip, but without addressing any lecture to his tiger-spotted idler, who stood as much as ever in want of a correction; however, the usually talkative driver, held his reins loosely in his hand, and used the whip only occasionally, and then only passed it across their backs as a matter of form. Yet from his sulkily-compressed lips were heard at intervals monosyllables of an ill-tempered meaning, such as, "Now then, now, you raven! take care! speed on!" but nothing else.
Even the other side horse, as well as the leader seemed to feel some discontent, when they heard nothing of that to which they had been accustomed: either words of reproof or approbation. The tiger-spotted idler seemed rather disgusted, because he felt the most unpleasant touches tickling his fat sides.
"Now then, now then, what the deuce is the matter with him! he is harder at me than ever!" thought the idler to himself, whilst pointing his ears. "He knows where to hit, and no mistake! He won't beat me in a straight-forward manner upon the back, but picks and chooses the most sensible parts, he hits my ears, and keeps annoying my flanks."
"Is it to the right?" was the dry question which Selifan addressed to the little girl sitting next to him, whilst pointing with his whip towards a dark road, looming in the distance among some verdoyant com fields.
"No, no, I will show you where," answered the little girl.
"Where is it?" demanded Selifan, after having driven for some distance.
"That is the road," replied the child, whilst pointing with her hand.