“Come swiftly, my little peasant, to my master!”
The peasant sought his ring.
“A curse on thee! Thou hast taken my ring!”
“Seek not,” said the lackey. “Come to my master. He hath thy ring, which hath caused us a great fuss.”
The peasant ran to the carriage. Quoth the lord to him:
“Pardon me, but come to my aid in my misfortune!”
“What wilt give me, lord?”
“Here are one hundred roubles.”
“Give me two hundred and I will deliver thee.”
The lord drew two hundred roubles from his pocket, the peasant took the money, and withdrew the ring from the lord’s finger, whereat the yard vanished as if by magic, and there was left to the lord but his former little instrument.