"My word of honour."
"And now hear my request: you have no doubt, my dear fellow, a number of dead serfs, that have not been yet struck out from the lists of the last census?"
"Yes, I have; but why?"
"Transfer them to me, to my name."
"And for what purpose do you want them?"
"Suffice it, if I tell you I want them."
"But for what purpose?"
"As I told you before I want them; the rest is my business, in a word then, I want to have them."
"No doubt you are up to something. Come, old fellow, confess it, eh?"
"To what should I be up? how could I be up to anything with such worthless trash, as dead serfs?"