CHAPTER XX.
“What a stupid fellow!” said Nosdrieff, whilst standing at the window and looking after his brother-in-law’s carriage as it was gradually disappearing in the distance. “Look here how he is driving off; one of his off horses is rather a fine animal, I have long had my eye upon it. However, it is quite impossible to come to any understanding with the man. He is such an odd fellow.”
After saying this, Nosdrieff and Tchichikoff entered another room. Porphir brought in some candles, and Tchichikoff observed in the hands of his host a pack of cards, for the sudden appearance of which he could not possibly account.
“What do you say, my dear fellow,” Nosdrieff remarked, whilst pressing the back of the pack with his fingers in such a manner, that they got slightly bent, and the wrapper in which they were broke; “Now then, and in order to pass our time pleasantly, I propose to hold the bank with three hundred roubles in it.”
But Tchichikoff pretended not to have heard the other’s proposal, and said, as if suddenly recollecting something: “Ah! by the bye, and ere I forget it again; I have request to make.”
“What is it?”
“Give me first your promise to fulfil it.”
“But what is your request?”
“Never mind, give me your promise!”
“‘Tis granted.”
“Your word of honour.”
“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?”
“But why should you then tell me you want to have them?”
“Oh, what a curious fellow you are! you wish to touch everything, or rather thrash with your own hands, and smell at it besides!”
“But why don’t you tell me?”
“And where would be the advantage if you knew it? well then if you must know it, it is a sudden fancy I have.”
“Well then, look here, my dear fellow: unless you tell me the truth, you shall not have my dead serfs!”
“And now I must confess, that this is not honourable on your part: you gave me your word of honour, and now you try to back out of it.”
“As you like, my dear fellow, but you shall not have them unless you tell me of what use they could be to you, dead as they are.”
“What shall I tell him,” said Tchichikoff to himself, and after a moment’s reflection, stated, that he wanted those dead serfs for the purpose of gaining a greater influence in society, that he did not possess a large property, and that until his fortunes changed these dead serfs would be a consolation to him.
“Stuff, nonsense!” said Nosdrieff, not giving him even proper time to finish his phrase, “bosh, my dear fellow!”
Tchichikoff could not help making the observation to himself, that his invention was far from being clever, and that the pretence was a very weak one indeed.
“Well then, I will be more explicit,” said he, whilst recovering himself from his first defeat, “but pray do not betray me in letting it out. I have come to the resolution of getting married; but I must tell you that the parents of my intended are very ambitious persons. ‘Tis quite a bore to me. I am sorry even that I gave my promise; they insist that the future husband of their daughter should absolutely have, at least, three hundred serfs to call his Own, and as I am short of the round sum of hundred and fifty, I thought …”
“Bosh! bosh!” Nosdrieff shouted again.
“Now, my dear fellow,” said Tchichikoff, “in telling you this much, I have spoken the truth, there is not even this much of imposition in what I told you,” and here he showed the extremest point of his little finger.
“I lay my head, that you told me a falsehood.”
“This is offensive in reality! what do you take me for? And why should I absolutely tell a falsehood?”
“‘Tis all very fine, my dear fellow, but I know you; you are a gay deceiver. Allow me to tell you something between ourselves, and quite confidentially. If I was your commander-in-chief, I should have you hanged on the first and nearest tree.”
Tchichikoff felt shocked and offended at this remark, for every observation, however slightly uncivil or offensive to propriety, was highly disagreeable to him. He avoided as much as possible allowing any familiarities to be taken with him, and in extreme cases would only permit such to be taken as might be termed the most delicate. And for that reason, he was now deeply offended, and sensibly hurt at the observation made by Nosdrieff.
“By heaven I should have you hanged,” repeated Nosdrieff, “I tell you this candidly, not with the intention of offending you; oh no! but simply, friendly and confidentially.”
“Every thing has its limits,” said Tchichikoff, with an air of dignity. “If you like to boast in such language, I would advise you to go into a barrack;” and then he added, “if you don’t like to let me have them for nothing, well then sell me them.”
“Sell them! but I know you well, you are a gay deceiver. You will not offer me a fair price for them?”
“Eh! you are a fine bird too! look at them! what are they to you. Do you value them like diamonds?”
“It is as I thought, when I told you that I knew you.”
“Pardon me, my dear fellow, but you have quite Jewish inclinations. You ought to let me have them for nothing.”
“Now then, listen, in order to show you how far you are mistaken in me, and that I am no selfish animal, I shall take nothing for my dead serfs. Buy my stallion of me, and I’ll give them to you into the bargain.”
“But, my dear fellow, what am I to do with a stallion?” said Tchichikoff, quite bewildered by such a proposal.
“What to do? But remember, my dear fellow, I paid ten thousand roubles for the animal, and I’ll let you have him for only four thousand.”
“But of what use could a stallion be to me? I do not keep a horse-breeding institution, like his most glorious Majesty our Emperor does.”
“But, my dear fellow, you seem not to understand me. I’ll only take three thousand roubles of you now, and as for the remaining thousand, you may pay me later at your own convenience.”
“But I do not want your stallion, nor any one else’s. Heaven be with the whole race!”
“Well, will you buy my hunter, the grey mare?”
“I do not want a mare either.”
“For that mare, and the other grey horse you have seen in my stables, I’ll only take three thousand roubles from you.”
“But I do not want any horses.”
“You may sell them. You are sure to get at any fair, or sale, more than three times their present value.”
“Then it would be better for you to sell them yourself, if you are convinced you could get as much as three times their value.”
“I am sure, I could make as much, but I wish you to derive that benefit.”
Tchichikoff thanked him for the friendly intention, but obstinately refused either to have the grey mare, or the grey horse.
“Well then, will you buy some of my dogs? I’ll sell you a pair with a skin as smooth as a thirty degrees frost! a spotted pair with moustachios, and upstanding hair like a pig’s bristles, the roundness of their ribs is quite incomprehensible, their paws are swiftness itself, they scarcely touch the ground.”
“Of what use could dogs be to me? I am not a sportsman.”
“But I wish you to have some dogs. Very well, if you won’t have any of my dogs, you ought to buy my organ, it is a most wonderful instrument; on my word of honour, it has cost, me more than one thousand five hundred roubles; but you shall have it for nine hundred.”
“But what am I to do with an organ? I am not a German, that I should go dragging it along, and grinding it in the streets, whilst begging the passers by for alms.”
“But, my dear fellow, you are mistaken, it is not an organ like the Germans carry about, it is a regular, really musical organ; just come along and look at it, it is all of mahogany. I’ll show it you once more.”
Hereupon Nosdrieff seized Tchichikoff by the hand, and began to pull him into the next room, and however much the other resisted by stemming his feet against the floor, and as well by persuading him that he perfectly well recollected the organ, it was of no use, and he was obliged to listen once more to the tune of Marlborough’s march, and Strauss’ familiar valse.
“If you don’t wish to make a bargain for all cash, then listen to what I propose to you. I’ll give you this organ, and as many dead serfs as I have got, and you will give me in return your britchka, and three hundred roubles in hard cash.”
“What an idea! and pray, in what am I to drive home?”
“I’ll give you another britchka. Come, let us go to the coach-house, I’ll show it to you! You will only have to paint it afresh and it will be an excellent carriage.”
“Oh, good heaven, it seems the devil has possessed him!” thought Tchichikoff within himself, and he came to the resolution, whatever the consequences might be, to decline all descriptions of britchkas, organs, and all imaginable breeds of dogs, without regard to their incomprehensible swiftness and smell.
“And, remember,” added Nosdrieff, “I offer you a britchka, an organ, and all my dead serfs, the whole in a batch!”
“I won’t have them!” Tchichikoff exclaimed once more.
“Why won’t you have them then?”
“Simply because I won’t have them, and there is an end.”
“What a curious fellow you are; it would seem it is quite impossible to live on friendly terms with you, as is customary among good comrades, you are such an obstinate fellow! It is evident you are a deceitful man!”
“But for what do you take me, surely not for a fool? just reflect for a moment: why should I make the acquisition of such things as are of no earthly use whatever to me?”
“Pray don’t talk. I know you now perfectly well. You are a regular box of antiquities! However, listen to me, will you play faro? I’ll stake all my dead serfs on a card, and my organ in the bargain.”
“Well, to venture a game, means to expose one-self to uncertainties,” spoke Tchichikoff, and meanwhile he kept glancing stealthily at the pack of cards which Nosdrieff had taken in his hands again. The cards seemed to him to be of an artificial make, and the corners looked very suspicious.
“What do you mean by uncertainties?” demanded Nosdrieff. “There cannot be the least uncertainty, provided only fortune smiles on you, you may win enormously. Look here! what luck! said he,” as he commenced the game of faro, in the hope of exciting a gambling passion in his guest. “What a chance! what luck! look here: thus you might win in reality! there is the confounded nine, upon which I lost all. I had a presentiment, that this card would sell my luck, and closing my eyes, I thought to myself: I am sold if that confounded card turns up.”
As Nosdrieff spoke thus, Porphir entered with a fresh bottle.
But Tchichikoff positively refused either to play or to drink.
“But why won’t you play at least?” demanded Nosdrieff.
“Because I am not in the humour. And besides, I must confess I am not partial to gambling.”
“Why, how is this, you are not fond of gambling?”
Tchichikoff shrugged his shoulders, and added: “just so, I am not an amateur.”
“You are a precious fool!”
“I can’t help that, Heaven has made me so.”
“You are a regular humbug! Till now, I was under the impression that you were a reputable man in some respects, but now I plainly perceive that you have not the slightest sense of propriety and good manners. It is impossible to speak to you as one would speak to a friend. You have no candour, no straightforwardness; you are the image of Sobakevitch, you are like him, a regular sneaking fellow!”
“But why do you scold me and call me all sorts of names? Is it my fault if I don’t like gambling? And if you are such a man as to value such a trash as your dead serfs are, well then, sell them to me, name your price.”
“Since you are such a mean fellow, you shall not have them at all! Originally,’ I intended to present them to you as a token of my friendship, gratuitously, but now you shall not have them at any price! Nay, were you even to offer me a kingdom, I would not part with them. You are a shuffler, a wretched potter! From this very moment, I won’t speak another word with you. Porphir, go and tell my stable-boy not to give any oats to his horses, let them feed on dry hay.”
The latter determination of Nosdrieff’s, Tchichikoff was far from anticipating.
“Now I could wish I had never seen you before,” added Nosdrieff.
Regardless of this altercation between them, the guest and his host nevertheless sat down and took supper together, although this time there were no wines with inexpressible names put on the table. The only bottle that passed between them was a bottle of Kahetian wine, which possessed all the peculiarities of a green and sour vinegar beverage. After a silent supper, Nosdrieff led Tchichikoff into a small adjoining room in which a bed had been prepared for him.
“Here is your bed; I do not wish you even a good night’s rest!”