Chapter 10 "Prairie" III

three In the dim twilight, a large one-story house appeared, with a red-rusted iron roof and dark windows.The house is called an inn, but there is no yard beside the house.It stands in the middle of the grassland with no shelter around it.Not far away, there was a small dilapidated cherry orchard, surrounded by a fence, which looked gloomy.Under the window stood a sleepy sunflower with its heavy head drooping.In the Little Cherry Orchard there was a little windmill that rattled and rattled, and there was such a thing there to scare away the hares with that noise.Nothing near the house could be seen or heard except the meadow.

No sooner had the carriage pulled up before the covered porch than there were cheerful voices in the house, one of a man's, the other of a woman's.A door with pulleys creaked open, and in a split second a tall, thin man emerged from the side of the carriage, waving his hands and shaking the hem of his clothes.It was Moisey Moisevitch, the innkeeper, a very pale, young man with a handsome beard as black as ink.He was wearing a battered black jacket that hung on a hanger over his narrow shoulders.Whenever Moisey Moisevitch clapped his hands in joy or fear, his skirts flapped like wings.In addition to the coat, the master wore a pair of baggy white trousers that hung loose at the waist of his boots, and a velvet waistcoat embroidered with brown flowers like giant bugs.

Recognizing the visitor, Moisey Moiseyitch was at first emotionally stunned, then clapped his hands and moaned.The hem of his coat fluttered, his back was arched, and his pale face was wrinkled into a smile, as if he was not only happy, but painfully happy, to see the carriage. "Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" he said in a high-pitched, singing voice, panting and flustered, which prevented the guests from getting out of the carriage. "What a happy day it is for me today! Oh, but what shall I do now? Ivan Ivanitch! Father Christopher! What a handsome man is sitting on the driver's seat!" My young master, let God punish me if I tell a lie! Oh, my God, why am I standing here in a daze and not leading the guests into the house? Come in, come in. . . . You are welcome! Give me all your things. . . . Oh, my God!"

Moisey Moisevitch, who was loading the luggage in the carriage and helping the guests out of the carriage, suddenly turned around and cried out in an anxious, strangled voice, as if he were drowning and calling for help: Romon! Solomon!" "Solomon! Solomon!" A woman's voice followed in the room. The door on the pulleys creaked open, and there was a young Jew, not tall, with a big beak-like nose, and a bald head surrounded by stiff curly hair.He wore a short, very old jacket with a rounded back, short sleeves, and a pair of short tights, so he looked short, thin, and plucked. bird.This man was Solomon, brother of Moisey Moiseitch.He walked towards the carriage silently, showing a strange smile, and did not greet the passengers.

"Ivan Ivanitch and Father Christopher are coming!" said Moisey Moiseitch, as if afraid that his brother would not believe him. "Oh, hey, what a surprise, these good people are here all at once! Come, move your things, Solomon! Come in, my lord!" After a while Kuzmitchov, Father Christopher, and Yegorushka were sitting at an old oak table in a large, dark, empty room.The table was almost alone, for there was no other furniture in the large room except a couch covered in a patent leather full of holes and three chairs.Moreover, such a chair may not be called a chair by everyone.They were just wretched looking pieces of furniture, covered in battered patent leather, with backs bent unnaturally sharply back, looking rather like children's sleds.What kind of comfort did the unknown joiner focus on so ruthlessly bent the back of the chair? The passenger bent it just to show his skills, and later tried to straighten it, but bent it even more.The room looked gloomy.The walls were gray and white, the ceiling and cornice black with smoke.There were cracks and holes of unknown origin in the floor (one would guess that Hercules' heels had pierced them, too).It seemed that even if ten lamps were hung in the room, it would still be quite dark.There was nothing like an ornament on the walls or on the windowsills.But there was a gray wooden frame hanging on one wall, and there was a picture of a double-headed eagle on it.On the other wall, there is also a wooden frame containing an engraving with the inscription: "Human Indifference".It is not clear what human beings are indifferent to, because the painting is too old, the picture is black and full of fly droppings.There was a musty sour smell in the room.

Moisey Moisevitch, leading the visitor into the room, kept bending over, clapping his hands, shrugging his shoulders, and uttering cries of joy.He considered these gestures to be necessary in order to appear very polite and genial. "When did our van go by here?" Kuzmitchov asked him. "One convoy of waggons passed here early this morning, and the other, Ivan Ivanitch, stopped here for lunch and set off before evening." "Why... is Varlamov passing by?" "No, Ivan Ivanitch. His clerk, Grigory Yegoritch, passed by yesterday morning and said that today he would go to the Molokan farm."

"Okay. Then let's go after the van and go to the Molokan sent." "By God, it's impossible, Ivan Ivanitch!" said Moisey Moisevitch in alarm, clasping his hands. "What are you going to do at night? You have a good dinner, stay here for the night, and in the morning, God bless you, and go on your way again, and you can chase whoever you want!" "No such leisure time, no such leisure time. . . . I'm sorry, Moisey Moiseyitch, but I'll stay again next time. I don't have time now. We'll be leaving in a quarter of an hour, and we can spend the night at the Molokanpai's." .”

"A quarter of an hour!" screamed Moisey Moiseitch, "you must be afraid of God, Ivan Ivanitch! You are making me hide your hat and lock the door with a lock." You must have something to eat and some tea!" "We didn't have time for tea or sweets," Kuzmitchov said. Moisey Moiseyitch tilted his head, bent his knees, stretched out his palms as if warding off blows, and with a painfully happy smile began to beseech: "Ivan! Ivanitch! Father Christopher! Please do me a favor and have a cup of tea with me. Am I such a villain that you cannot even have a cup of tea with me? Ivan Ivan Vaneck!"

"All right, a cup of tea, too," sighed Father Christopher sympathetically. "Anyway, it won't take much time." "Oh, all right!" Kuzmitchov agreed. Moisey Moiseyitch burst into excitement, gave a cry of joy, shrugged his shoulders as if he had just emerged from cold water into a warm place, and ran to the door, calling Solomon In that anxious, strangled voice he called: "Roza! Roza! Bring the samovar!" A minute later, the door opened and Solomon entered the room, holding a large plate in both hands.He put the plate on the table and looked away mockingly, still smiling oddly.Now, with the help of the light, he can clearly see his smile, which is very complex and expresses many emotions, but only one of them dominates, and that is blatant contempt.He seems to be thinking about something ridiculous and stupid, looking down on someone, secretly happy about something, waiting for an appropriate opportunity to sarcasm, and laughing for a while like.His long nose, thick lips, and sly bulging eyes seem to be full of desire to laugh.Kuzmitchov looked at his face, smiled mockingly, and asked: "Solomon, why don't you come to our county fair this summer and act like a Jew?"

Yegorushka remembered very well that two years ago, in a shed on the county fair, Solomon had written a book, telling stories about Jewish life, and it had been very successful. After this matter was mentioned, Solomon did not arouse any emotion.He went out without answering a word, and returned a moment later with a samovar. Having finished his work on the table, he stood aside, folded his hands on his breast, stretched out one leg, and fixed his mocking eyes on Father Christopher.His posture is provocative, arrogant, contemptuous, and at the same time very pitiful and ridiculous, because his posture is more solemn, his short trousers, jacket, funny nose, bird-like, as if plucked. Mao's whole body became more eye-catching.

Moisey Moisevitch brought a stool from another room and sat down at a distance from the table. "I wish you a good appetite! Drink tea and eat sugar!" He began to entertain the guests. "Use more, please. Such a rarity, such a rarity. I haven't seen Father Christopher for five years. Will no one tell me who this handsome young master belongs to?" he said. asked Yegorushka, looking tenderly. "He is the son of my sister Olga Ivanovna," answered Kuzmitchov. "Where is he going?" "Go to school. We'll take him to secondary school." In order to show politeness, Moisey Moisevitch made a look of surprise on his face and shook his head meaningfully. "Hey, that's a good thing!" he said, wagging his finger at the samovar. "It's a good thing! When you come out of school, you'll be a gentleman, and we'll all take off our hats and bow when we see you. You'll be learned, rich, and ambitious, and mother will be happy. Hey, that's a good thing!" He was silent for a moment, touched his knee, and began in a half-joking, half-respectful voice: "You must forgive me, Father Christopher, I am going to write a letter to the bishop and tell him that you The merchant is out of business. I'll take a paper and write: Father Christopher must be short of money, because he's in business and selling wool." "Yes, at my age, it's fantastic..." said Father Christopher, laughing. "Boy, I've changed my career from being a priest to being a merchant. Now I should be sitting at home and praying to God, but instead I am driving around in a chariot like a 'Pharaoh' in a chariot. ... What a waste of time! " "But there will be more money!" "Come on! You can't talk about money. It's not mine, it's my son-in-law Michelle's!" "Why doesn't he go by himself?" "Because . but he tries here and there, and no one appreciates him. The lad went on like this for a year, and then he came to me and said, "Dad, please sell me the wool." , please do me a favor!I can't do these things! 'That's the way it is.As long as something happens, I will be my father right away. Usually, it is fine without a father.He didn't come to consult with me when he bought the wool, but now when there's trouble, it's Pa's turn.In fact, where did dad become?Father would not have been able to do it if Ivan Ivanitch hadn't been there.People like them have caused so much trouble! " "By the way, let me tell you the truth, children always cause a lot of trouble!" sighed Moisey Moisevitch. "I have six children. One has to go to school, one has to see a doctor, and one has to be held. When they grow up, there will be more trouble. Not only this is the case now, but it is the same in the Bible. Jacob ③ has When he was a child, he cried all the time, and when the child grows up, he cries even more sadly!" "Well, yes ..." agreed Father Christopher, looking thoughtfully at his teacup. "As for myself, I really have nothing to complain about the Lord. My wife has lived to the end, just as others have lived by God's blessing. . . . I have married my daughters to good men, and given my sons Now that I have a family and a career, I have nothing to worry about. I have done my duty, and I can go anywhere. My wife and I live in peace, eat and drink, sleep soundly, have grandkids to entertain, pray to God every day, and I don't want anything else.I live comfortably, and I don't need to curry favor with anyone.I have never suffered anything in my life, and now suppose the Tsar comes and asks me: "What do you want? What do you want?" Then I don't want anything! I have everything, thank God I have everything. No one in the whole city is as happy as I am. The only trouble is that I have so many sins, but after all, only God is without sin. That's right? " "Of course." "Of course, I don't have any teeth. I'm getting old, my back is sore, and so on... Asthma or something... I'm sick and my body is weak, but then again, I have to think about how long I've lived. Old age! Over seventy! One cannot live forever. One has to be content." Father Christopher suddenly thought of something, chuckled into the glass, and coughed from laughter.Moisey Moisevitch laughed out of politeness and coughed too. "How funny!" said Father Christopher, waving his hands. "My eldest son, Gavrila, came to see me. He is a doctor, a doctor from the Chernigov Zemstvo. . What. ... You are a doctor, so let your father see a doctor! 'He took off my clothes on the spot, knocked, listened, did all sorts of tricks, ... rubbed my stomach, and said, "Dad, you should use compressed air to fix it.'" Christo The Abbe Faure laughed until he was in tears, and rose to his feet. "I said to him: God bless, bless that compressed air!" He waved his hand and counted while laughing. "God bless it, bless that compressed air!" Moisey Moisevitch also stood up, cupped his belly in his hands, and laughed shrillly, like a lapdog. "God bless it, bless that compressed air!" Father Christopher repeated, laughing. Moisey Moisevitch laughed two notes higher, and laughed so hard that he couldn't stand still. "Oh, my God..." he groaned amidst laughter, "let me breathe. . . . Laughing so hard that I almost... ouch! He laughed and said, and at the same time he gave Solomon a timid and suspicious look.Solomon still stood in the same posture as before, smiling slightly.From the look in his eyes and his smile it appeared that his contempt and hatred came from within, but that expression was so out of proportion to his as if plucked body that it seemed to Yegorushka that he was putting it on purpose. This provocative attitude and vicious look of contempt, in order to show off the skills of the clown, as if to make the distinguished guests laugh. Kuzmitchov drank about six cups of tea in silence, cleared a space on the table in front of him, and brought in the bag that he had used for his head when he slept under the carriage.He untied the string and shook it.Bundles of banknotes rolled out of the bag and landed on the table. "Let's have some while we have time, Father Christopher," said Kuzmitchov. Embarrassed at the sight of the money, Moisey Moisevitch got up, stood on tiptoe, steadied himself on tiptoes, and walked out of the room like a polite man who would not pry into another's privacy. up.Solomon was still standing where he was. "How much is a bundle of ruble notes?" began Father Christopher. "One-rouble notes come in bundles of fifty rubles. . . . three-rouble notes come in bundles of ninety rubles. . . . one hundred and twenty-five are one thousand and one bundles. You count seven thousand and eight for Varlamov Hundreds, I'll count the money for Gucevich. But be careful not to make mistakes..." Yegorushka had never seen in all his life so much money as was lying on the table at this moment.It must have been a lot of money, because the seven thousand eight hundred that Father Christopher had counted out for Varlamov looked very small compared with the whole pile of bills.At other times Yegorushka might have been shocked by so much money, and had been made to wonder how many rolls, muttons, and poppy-seed desserts he could have bought with this pile of money.Now he is looking at the money indifferently, only feeling the smell of rotten apples and the smell of kerosene coming out of the banknotes.I lost my energy when I was bumped by the carriage, and now I am tired and just want to sleep.His head drooped, his eyes could not be opened, and his thoughts were scrambled like threads.If he could, he would sink his head comfortably on the table, close his eyes so as not to see the light and his fingers moving over the bundles of bills, and let his weary thoughts become as confused as possible.Now he had to try not to fall asleep, so the lamp, the teacup, and his fingers were doubled, the samovar swayed, and the smell of rotten apples became even more pungent and disgusting. "Oh, money, money!" sighed Father Christopher, smiling. "What troubles you have caused! My Mihailo is probably sleeping now, dreaming that I will bring him back such a large amount of money." "Your Mihailo Timofeitch is a fool," said Kuzmitchov in a low voice. "He doesn't know what to do, but you understand things and can judge. You might as well do what I said earlier." Give me your wool as you said, and you can go back yourself, and I will, well, give you half a ruble more than I paid for it, which is purely a token of respect. . . . " "No, Ian Van Ivanitch," sighed Father Christopher. "Thank you for your care, I am very grateful....Of course, if I can make the decision, there is no need to say more, but you know that this batch of goods in front of you is not mine..." Moise Moise Isejitch came in on tiptoe.Trying not to look at the pile of money out of politeness, he went up to Yegorushka quietly and pulled his shirt behind his back. "Come with me, master," he whispered, "and I'll show you a very nice little bear! What a frightening, grumpy little bear! Hey!" Sleepy Yegorushka got up and followed Moisey Moiseitch listlessly to see the bear.He walked into a small room, and before he saw anything, he smelled a musty, sour smell, much stronger than that in the big room, and it probably spread from this room to the whole house.In one half of the room was a large bed with a greasy quilted quilt, and in the other half a wardrobe and piles of worn clothes of all kinds, from women's starched skirts to children's shorts and shorts. Everything down to the suspenders.An oil candle was burning on the wardrobe. Yegorushka did not see the bear promised by the Jews, but a tall, fat Jewish woman with loose hair and a flannel dress of red ground and black flowers.She struggled up and down the narrow passage between the bed and the wardrobe, uttering long, mournful sighs, like a toothache.Seeing Yegorushka, she made a face of weeping, gave a long sigh, and in a moment she brought a piece of bread and honey to his lips. "Eat, baby, eat!" she said. "You have no mother here, no one to take care of your food and drink. Eat." Yegorushka did eat it, but at home he ate rock sugar and poppy-seed desserts every day, and he found this honey mixed with half beeswax and bee wings tasteless.Moisey Moisevitch and the Jewish woman looked at him and sighed while he ate. "Where are you going, my dear?" asked the Jewish woman. "To school," replied Yegorushka. "How many children does your mother have?" "Just me. There's nothing else." "Ouch!" sighed the Jewish woman, rolling her eyes upward. "Poor mother! poor mother!How she will miss and cry!In a year, we will also send our Naumu to school!Ouch! " "Oh, Naum, Naum!" sighed Moisey Moiseitch, the skin of his pale face twitching nervously. "He's so thin." The greasy quilt quivered, and from under the quilt poked a child's curly-haired head with a thin neck, and two bright black eyes looked curiously at Yegorushka.Moisey Moiseitch and the Jewish woman sighed, went to the closet, and began talking in Jewish.Moisey Moiseich spoke in a bass voice, his Jewish words summed up in a continuous "quack quack..." and his wife spoke in a thin, turkey-like voice. The voice answered, and her words were roughly like "beep beep beep...".They were discussing something when another curly-haired head and another thin neck poked out from under the greasy quilt, then a third head, and then a fourth. ... If Yegorushka had a rich imagination, he would have imagined that there was a monster with a hundred heads lying under the quilt. "Quack, quack, quack..." said Moisey Moiseitch. "Toot, toot, toot..." replied the Jew. The end of the conversation was that the Jewish woman, with a long sigh, crept into the wardrobe, unwrapped a tattered green cloth bag, and took out a large black-faced honey cake in the shape of a heart. "Here, sweetie," she said, and handed Yegorushka the biscuits. "You don't have a mother now, and no one gives you snacks." Yegorushka stuffed the cookies into his pocket and withdrew to the door, for he could no longer smell the sour musty smell in which the landlady and his wife lived.He went back to the big room, found a place to sit comfortably on the couch, and concentrated on his own thoughts. Kuzmitchov put the bills back in the bag after one o'clock.He did not treat the bills with any particular respect, throwing them into the bag with impoliteness and indifference, as if they were not money but waste paper. Father Christopher began talking to Solomon. "Well, how is it, wise man Solomon?" he said, yawning, and crossing his mouth. "How are things going?" "What are you talking about?" Solomon asked, looking fierce, as if he was being accused of some crime. "A general thing... What have you been doing lately?" "What do I do?" Solomon asked back, shrugging his shoulders. "Not like the others. . . . You can see that I am a slave. I am my brother's slave, my brother is the servant of the guests, and the guests are Varlamov's servant. If I have ten million rubles, Varlamov Lamov will be my minion." "What does that mean? How could he be your slave?" "Why? Because there is no lord or rich man who would not like to lick the hand of a mangy Jew for a penny more. Now I am a mangy Jew, a beggar, and everybody takes me for a dog, but if If I have money, Varlamov will fawn on me, just as Moises fawns on you." Father Christopher and Kuzmitchov looked at each other.Neither of them understood what Solomon meant.Kuzmitchov looked at him sternly and coldly, and asked: "How can you compare yourself with Varlamov, you idiot?" "I'm not so stupid as to compare myself with Varlamov," replied Solomon, looking sarcastically at the speaker, "though Varlamov is a Russian, by nature he is a scabbed Jew. , his whole life is to make money and profit, and I throw money in the furnace to burn! I don't want money, land, sheep, and people who are afraid of me and take off their clothes when I pass by. hat. So I am much wiser and more human than your Varlamov! " A little while later Yegorushka, half asleep, heard Solomon speaking quickly and indistinctly about the Jews in a low, hoarse voice, stifled by hatred.At first he spoke Russian quite well, but then he added the voice of a storyteller about Jewish life, and began to speak with a strong Jewish accent, just like that time in the shed at the market. "Wait a minute, . . . " interrupted Father Christopher. "If you don't like your religion, you can convert to another. It's a sin to laugh at religion, and it's only the vilest people who laugh at their own religion." "You didn't understand at all!" Solomon interrupted him rudely. "I told you one thing, and you told another. . . . " "Everyone can see now that you are a fool," sighed Father Christopher. "I gave you all my heart, and you were offended. I spoke to you calmly like the old man, and you were like a turkey:" Blah, blah, blah! 'You are a weirdo. . . . "Moisey Moiseitch came in. He glanced anxiously at Solomon, then at the visitor, and the skin on his face twitched again with tension. Yegorushka shook his head and looked Glancing around, I caught sight of Solomon by chance, and at that moment Solomon's face was turned exactly three quarters to him, and the shadow of his long nose covered the whole left side of his face, and the shadow tangled with it. The sneer, the bright, mocking eyes, the haughty expression, the whole small body, which seemed to be cleansed, danced in double before Yegorushka's eyes, and at that moment he looked not like a clown, but like a clown. It is something like a demon that people occasionally see in dreams. "You have an enchanted man here, Moisey Moiseitch! God be with him!" said Father Christopher, smiling. "You should take him somewhere, or get him a wife. . . . He doesn't look like a normal person anymore. . . . " Kuzmitchov frowned angrily.Again Moisey Moisevitch looked anxiously and tentatively at his brother and at his guest. "Solomon, get out!" he snapped. "go out!" He also added a Jewish word.Solomon laughed fiercely and walked out. "What's the matter?" Moisey Moisevitch asked Father Christopher in alarm. "He forgot to take shape," replied Kuzmitchov. "Talk rudely and think you're great." "I expected it!" cried Moisey Moisevitch in horror, clasping his hands together. "Oh, my God! my God!" he murmured. "Please do me a favor, forgive me, and don't be offended. What a queer, queer man he is! Oh, my God! My God! He's my own brother, but he's nothing more than a nuisance to me. You can't get anything from him. You know, he..." Moisey Moisevitch drew a circle on his forehead with his finger, and went on: "He's out of his mind, . . . He's a hopeless man. I don't know what to do with him! He doesn't like people, he doesn't respect people, he's not afraid of people... You know, he laughs at everyone, talks stupid things, treats everyone You're welcome. You may not believe it, but Varlamov came here once, and Solomon said something to him, which caused him to whip me and him. . . . But why bother? Take me with a whip? Can I be blamed? God took his brains, so it was God's will, can I be blamed?" Ten minutes passed, and Moisey Moiseyitch was still babbling in a low voice, sighing: "He doesn't sleep at night, thinking, thinking, thinking, what is he thinking about?" What, only God knows. If you visit him at night, he gets angry and laughs. He doesn't even like me... and he doesn't want anything! When my father died, he left us six thousand rubles each. I bought this hotel, got married, and now have children; and he threw the money into the furnace and burned it. What a pity! What a pity! Why burn it? If you don't want it, you can give it to me. Why burn it? ?” Suddenly the door on its pulleys creaked, and the floor vibrated at someone's footsteps.A gust of cold air hit Yegorushka, and it seemed to him that a large black bird flew past him and flapped its wings close to his face.He opened his eyes. … Uncle stood by the couch, bag in hand, ready to leave.Father Christopher, holding a wide-brimmed top hat, was bowing to someone and smiling, not with his usual soft and affectionate smile, but with a respectful and forced smile, which did not suit his face.And Moisey Moisevitch looked as if his body had been broken in three, and he was holding himself up, trying not to let his body fall apart.Only Solomon stood in the corner, crossed his hands, and smiled contemptuously as if nothing had happened. "My lord, forgive us for being unclean!" Moisey Moiseyitch moaned, smiling bitterly and joyously, ignoring Kuzmitchov and Christopher Priest, try to keep yourself steady, so as not to scatter. "We are rough men, my lord!" Yegorushka rubbed his eyes, and sure enough there was standing in the middle of the room a venerable figure, a young, plump, beautiful woman in black and a straw hat.Before Yegorushka had time to see her face clearly, for some reason he suddenly remembered the solitary, slender aspen tree he had seen on the hill that day. "Has Varlamov passed here today?" asked a woman's voice. "No, sir!" answered Moisey Moisevitch. "If you see him tomorrow, ask him to come to my house for a while." Suddenly, very unexpectedly, Yegorushka saw two black velvet eyebrows, a pair of big brown eyes, and a delicate female face half an inch away from his eyes, with two A wine dimple, a smile radiates from the wine dimple, just like sunlight radiating from the sun, and there is a very pleasant aroma. "What a beautiful child!" said the woman. "Whose child is this? Kazimir Mikhailovich, look, how cute! My God, he's asleep! My dear little fat man..." The woman kissed Yegolu affectionately. Shika's cheeks on both sides.He smiled, but realizing that he was sleeping, he closed his eyes tightly.The pulleys on the door creaked, and there was the sound of hurried footsteps: someone was walking in and out. "Egorushka! Yegorushka!" he heard two deep voices whisper. "Get up, let's go!" I don't know who, probably Janiska, helped him to his feet and took his arm.On the way, he opened his eyes slightly, and saw the beautiful woman in black who had kissed him again.She stood in the middle of the room and watched him go out, smiling and nodding kindly to him.As he approached the door, he saw a handsome, tall, dark-haired man wearing a top hat and leather leggings.This man must have accompanied the lady. "Hey!" There was a voice yelling at the horse from outside. At the gate of the house Yegorushka saw a splendid new carriage and a pair of black horses.On the driver's seat sat a coachman in livery, holding a long whip in his hand.Solomon was the only one who sent the guests out.His face was tense with laughter, and he looked as if he was very anxious to wait for the guests to go away, so that he could have a good time laughing at them. "This is Countess Tranitskaya," whispered Father Christopher, climbing into the carriage. "By the way, Countess Dranitskaya," Kuzmitchov repeated in a low voice. The impression made by the Countess's presence was probably very strong, for even Deniska murmured, and when the carriage had driven a quarter of a mile, he turned his head and looked in the distance, and could not see the inn, only a little In the dim light, he dared to whip the bay red horse and yell. "Notes" ① A faction of Christianity that emerged in Russia in the second half of the eighteenth century and opposed the establishment of priests and churches.Christians do not eat meat, only milk and eggs. ②The title of the king of ancient Egypt. ③The "Bible Genesis" records that Jacob had twelve children, who caused a lot of trouble. ④According to the "Bible" legend, Solomon is the son of David, the king of Israel in the tenth century BC, known for his wit and cleverness.在这儿是因为名字相同用来取笑的意思。 ⑤一俄寸等于４。４厘米。