LITMIR.BIZ

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month, the rogue. What do you think? I’ll talk to Praskovya Zaharyevna. But, my goodness, what is the matter, my love? Oh, how white you are! Oh, oh, servants, servants!” and the old gentleman ran about the room.

      “Villains! Monsters!” cried the lady, sinking on the sofa.

      “Who, who, who?” cried the old gentleman.

      “There are people there, strangers, there under the bed! Oh, my God, Amishka, Amishka, what have they done to you?”

      “Good heavens, what people? Amishka…. Servants, servants, come here! Who is there, who is there?” cried the old gentleman, snatching up a candle and bending down under the bed. “Who is there?”

      Ivan Andreyitch was lying more dead than alive beside the breathless corpse of Amishka, but the young man was watching every movement of the old gentleman. All at once the old gentleman went to the other side of the bed by the wall and bent down. In a flash the young man crept out from under the bed and took to his heels, while the husband was looking for his visitors on the other side.

      “Good gracious!” exclaimed the lady, staring at the young man. “Who are you? Why, I thought….”

      “That monster’s still there,” whispered the young man. “He is guilty of Amishka’s death!”

      “Aïe!” shrieked the lady, but the young man had already vanished from the room.

      “Aïe! There is some one here. Here are somebody’s boots!” cried the husband, catching Ivan Andreyitch by the leg.

      “Murderer, murderer!” cried the lady. “Oh, Ami! Ami!”

      “Come out, come out!” cried the old gentleman, stamping on the carpet with both feet; “come out. Who are you? Tell me who you are! Good gracious, what a queer person!”

      “Why, it’s robbers!…”

      “For God’s sake, for God’s sake,” cried Ivan Andreyitch creeping out, “for God’s sake, your Excellency, don’t call the servants! Your Excellency, don’t call any one. It is quite unnecessary. You can’t kick me out!… I am not that sort of person. I am a different case. Your Excellency, it has all been due to a mistake! I’ll explain directly, your Excellency,” exclaimed Ivan Andreyitch, sobbing and gasping. “It’s all my wife that is not my wife, but somebody else’s wife. I am not married, I am only…. It’s my comrade, a friend of youthful days.”

      “What friend of youthful days?” cried the old gentleman, stamping. “You are a thief, you have come to steal … and not a friend of youthful days.”

      “No, I am not a thief, your Excellency; I am really a friend of youthful days…. I have only blundered by accident, I came into the wrong place.”

      “Yes, sir, yes; I see from what place you’ve crawled out.”

      “Your Excellency! I am not that sort of man. You are mistaken. I tell you, you are cruelly mistaken, your Excellency. Only glance at me, look at me, and by signs and tokens you will see that I can’t be a thief. Your Excellency! Your Excellency!” cried Ivan Andreyitch, folding his hands and appealing to the young lady. “You are a lady, you will understand me…. It was I who killed Amishka…. But it was not my fault…. It was really not my fault…. It was all my wife’s fault. I am an unhappy man, I am drinking the cup of bitterness!”

      “But really, what has it to do with me that you are drinking the cup of bitterness? Perhaps it’s not the only cup you’ve drunk. It seems so, to judge from your condition. But how did you come here, sir?” cried the old gentleman, quivering with excitement, though he certainly was convinced by certain signs and tokens that Ivan Andreyitch could not be a thief. “I ask you: how did you come here? You break in like a robber….”

      “Not a robber, your Excellency. I simply came to the wrong place; I am really not a robber! It is all because I was jealous. I will tell you all about it, your Excellency, I will confess it all frankly, as I would to my own father; for at your venerable age I might take you for a father.”

      “What do you mean by venerable age?”

      “Your Excellency! Perhaps I have offended you? Of course such a young lady … and your age … it is a pleasant sight, your Excellency, it really is a pleasant sight such a union … in the prime of life…. But don’t call the servants, for God’s sake, don’t call the servants … servants would only laugh…. I know them … that is, I don’t mean that I am only acquainted with footmen, I have a footman of my own, your Excellency, and they are always laughing … the asses! Your Highness … I believe I am not mistaken, I am addressing a prince….”

      “No, I am not a prince, sir, I am an independent gentleman…. Please do not flatter me with your ‘Highness.’ How did you get here, sir? How did you get here?”

      “Your Highness, that is, your Excellency…. Excuse me, I thought that you were your Highness. I looked … I imagined … it does happen. You are so like Prince Korotkouhov whom I have had the honour of meeting at my friend Mr. Pusyrev’s…. You see, I am acquainted with princes, too, I have met princes, too, at the houses of my friends; you cannot take me for what you take me for. I am not a thief. Your Excellency, don’t call the servants; what will be the good of it if you do call them?”

      “But how did you come here?” cried the lady. “Who are you?”

      “Yes, who are you?” the husband chimed in. “And, my love, I thought it was pussy under the bed sneezing. And it was he. Ah, you vagabond! Who are you? Tell me!”

      And the old gentleman stamped on the carpet again.

      “I cannot speak, your Excellency, I am waiting till you are finished, I am enjoying your witty jokes. As regards me, it is an absurd story, your Excellency; I will tell you all about it. It can all be explained without more ado, that is, I mean, don’t call the servants, your Excellency! Treat me in a gentlemanly way…. It means nothing that I was under the bed, I have not sacrificed my dignity by that. It is a most comical story, your Excellency!” cried Ivan Andreyitch, addressing the lady with a supplicating air. “You, particularly, your Excellency, will laugh! You behold upon the scene a jealous husband. You see, I abase myself, I abase myself of my own free will. I did indeed kill Amishka, but … my God, I don’t know what I am saying!”

      “But how, how did you get here?”

      “Under cover of night, your Excellency, under cover of night…. I beg your pardon! Forgive me, your Excellency! I humbly beg your pardon! I am only an injured husband, nothing more! Don’t imagine, your Excellency, that I am a lover! I am not a lover! Your wife is virtue itself, if I may venture so to express myself. She is pure and innocent!”

      “What, what? What did you have the audacity to say?” cried the old gentleman, stamping his foot again. “Are you out of your mind or not? How dare you talk about my wife?”

      “He is a villain, a murderer who has killed Amishka,” wailed the lady, dissolving into tears. “And then he dares!…”

      “Your Excellency, your Excellency! I spoke foolishly,” cried Ivan Andreyitch in a fluster. “I was talking foolishly, that was all! Think of me as out of my mind…. For goodness’ sake, think of me as out of my mind…. I assure you that you will be doing me the greatest favour. I would offer you my hand, but I do not venture to…. I was not alone, I was an uncle…. I mean to say that you cannot take me for the lover…. Goodness! I have put my foot in it again…. Do not be offended, your Excellency,” cried Ivan Andreyitch to the lady. “You are a lady, you understand what love is, it is a delicate feeling…. But what am I saying? I am talking nonsense again; that is, I mean to say that I am an old man — that is, a middle-aged man, not an old man; that I cannot be your lover; that a lover is a Richardson — that is, a Lovelace…. I am talking nonsense, but you see, your Excellency, that I am a well-educated man and know something of literature. You are laughing, your Excellency. I am delighted, delighted that I have provoked your mirth, your Excellency. Oh, how delighted I am that I have provoked your mirth.”

      “My

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