"But why not tell Ivan Grigorievitch precisely what you have bought?"inquired Sobakevitch of Chichikov. "And why, Ivan Grigorievitch, do YOU not ask Monsieur Chichikov precisely what his purchases have consisted of? What a splendid lot of serfs, to be sure! I myself have sold him my wheelwright, Michiev.""What? You have sold him Michiev?" exclaimed the President. "I know the man well. He is a splendid craftsman, and, on one occasion, made me a drozhki[4]. Only, only--well, lately didn't you tell me that he is dead?"[4] A sort of low, four-wheeled carriage.
"That Michiev is dead?" re-echoed Sobakevitch, coming perilously near to laughing. "Oh dear no! That was his brother. Michiev himself is very much alive, and in even better health than he used to be. Any day he could knock you up a britchka such as you could not procure even in Moscow. However, he is now bound to work for only one master.""Indeed a splendid craftsman!" repeated the President. "My only wonder is that you can have brought yourself to part with him.""Then think you that Michiev is the ONLY serf with whom I have parted? Nay, for I have parted also with Probka Stepan, my carpenter, with Milushkin, my bricklayer, and with Teliatnikov, my bootmaker.
Yes, the whole lot I have sold."
And to the President's inquiry why he had so acted, seeing that the serfs named were all skilled workers and indispensable to a household, Sobakevitch replied that a mere whim had led him to do so, and thus the sale had owed its origin to a piece of folly. Then he hung his head as though already repenting of his rash act, and added:
"Although a man of grey hairs, I have not yet learned wisdom.""But," inquired the President further, "how comes it about, Paul Ivanovitch, that you have purchased peasants apart from land? Is it for transferment elsewhere that you need them?""Yes."
"Very well, then. That is quite another matter. To what province of the country?""To the province of Kherson."
"Indeed? That region contains some splendid land," said the President;whereupon he proceeded to expatiate on the fertility of the Kherson pastures.
"And have you MUCH land there?" he continued.
"Yes; quite sufficient to accommodate the serfs whom I have purchased.""And is there a river on the estate or a lake?""Both."
After this reply Chichikov involuntarily threw a glance at Sobakevitch; and though that landowner's face was as motionless as every, the other seemed to detect in it: "You liar! Don't tell MEthat you own both a river and a lake, as well as the land which you say you do."Whilst the foregoing conversation had been in progress, various witnesses had been arriving on the scene. They consisted of the constantly blinking Public Prosecutor, the Inspector of the Medical Department, and others--all, to quote Sobakevitch, "men who cumbered the ground for nothing." With some of them, however, Chichikov was altogether unacquainted, since certain substitutes and supernumeraries had to be pressed into the service from among the ranks of the subordinate staff. There also arrived, in answer to the summons, not only the son of Father Cyril before mentioned, but also Father Cyril himself. Each such witness appended to his signature a full list of his dignities and qualifications: one man in printed characters, another in a flowing hand, a third in topsy-turvy characters of a kind never before seen in the Russian alphabet, and so forth. Meanwhile our friend Ivan Antonovitch comported himself with not a little address;and after the indentures had been signed, docketed, and registered, Chichikov found himself called upon to pay only the merest trifle in the way of Government percentage and fees for publishing the transaction in the Official Gazette. The reason of this was that the President had given orders that only half the usual charges were to be exacted from the present purchaser--the remaining half being somehow debited to the account of another applicant for serf registration.
"And now," said Ivan Grigorievitch when all was completed, "we need only to wet the bargain.""For that too I am ready," said Chichikov. "Do you but name the hour.
If, in return for your most agreeable company, I were not to set a few champagne corks flying, I should be indeed in default.""But we are not going to let you charge yourself with anything whatsoever. WE must provide the champagne, for you are our guest, and it is for us--it is our duty, it is our bounden obligation--to entertain you. Look here, gentlemen. Let us adjourn to the house of the Chief of Police. He is the magician who needs but to wink when passing a fishmonger's or a wine merchant's. Not only shall we fare well at his place, but also we shall get a game of whist."To this proposal no one had any objection to offer, for the mere mention of the fish shop aroused the witnesses' appetite.
Consequently, the ceremony being over, there was a general reaching for hats and caps. As the party were passing through the general office, Ivan Antonovitch whispered in Chichikov's ear, with a courteous inclination of his jug-shaped physiognomy:
"You have given a hundred thousand roubles for the serfs, but have paid ME only a trifle for my trouble.""Yes," replied Chichikov with a similar whisper, "but what sort of serfs do you suppose them to be? They are a poor, useless lot, and not worth even half the purchase money."This gave Ivan Antonovitch to understand that the visitor was a man of strong character--a man from whom nothing more was to be expected.
"Why have you gone and purchased souls from Plushkin?" whispered Sobakevitch in Chichikov's other ear.
"Why did YOU go and add the woman Vorobei to your list?" retorted Chichikov.
"Vorobei? Who is Vorobei?"
"The woman 'Elizabet' Vorobei--'Elizabet,' not 'Elizabeta?'""I added no such name," replied Sobakevitch, and straightway joined the other guests.
At length the party arrived at the residence of the Chief of Police.
