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'What you choose, to be sure, Nikolai Ivanitch chimed in, slowly smoothing his hand on his breast, 'you're quite at liberty about that. Sing what you like; only sing well; and we'll give a fair decision afterwards. 'A fair decision, of course, put in the Gabbler, licking the edge of his empty glass. 'Let me clear my throat a bit, mates, said the booth-keeper, fingering the collar of his coat.
The Gabbler held out his dirty cap, with its broken peak hanging loose; Yakov dropped his halfpenny in, and the booth-keeper his. 'You must pick out one, said the Wild Master, turning to the Blinkard. The Blinkard smiled complacently, took the cap in both hands, and began shaking it. For an instant a profound silence reigned; the halfpennies clinked faintly, jingling against each other.
Yakov fumbled in his pockets, took out a halfpenny, and marked it with his teeth. The booth-keeper pulled from under the skirts of his long coat a new leather purse, deliberately untied the string, and shaking out a quantity of small change into his hand, picked out a new halfpenny.
Yakov, called the Turk because he actually was descended from a Turkish woman, a prisoner from the war, was by nature an artist in every sense of the word, and by calling, a ladler in a paper factory belonging to a merchant. As for the booth-keeper, his career, I must own, I know nothing of; he struck me as being a smart townsman of the tradesman class, ready to turn his hand to anything.
Right opposite him, on a bench under the holy pictures, was sitting Yashka's rival, the booth-keeper from Zhizdry; he was a short, stoutly-built man about thirty, pock-marked, and curly-headed, with a blunt, turn-up nose, lively brown eyes, and a scanty beard.
Yashka's got a bet on with the booth-keeper: the stake's a pot of beer for the one that does best, sings the best, I mean... do you see? 'Is Yashka going to sing? said the man addressed as Blinkard, with lively interest. 'But isn't it your humbug, Gabbler? 'I'm not humbugging, answered the Gabbler, with dignity; 'it's you are crazy.
'But who's to begin? he inquired in a slightly changed voice of the Wild Master, who still stood motionless in the middle of the room, his stalwart legs wide apart and his powerful arms thrust up to the elbow into his breeches pockets. 'You, you, booth-keeper, stammered the Gabbler; 'you, to be sure, brother. The Wild Master looked at him from under his brows.
At least, that was the result of my policy; for while those who played high were ruined, my pockets were filled, and, by that cautious mode of playing, I was so lucky that, had there been enough at threes to one, I could have kept on making money as long as they had any to lose. I changed my half-crowns with the booth-keeper for gold, and reached my chambers safely with the spoil.
'Begin, begin, chimed in Nikolai Ivanitch approvingly. 'Let's begin, by all means, observed the booth-keeper coolly, with a self-confident smile; 'I'm ready. 'And I'm ready, Yakov pronounced in a voice thrilled with excitement. 'Well, begin, lads, whined the Blinkard.
Yakov threw a quick glance at her, and he sang more sweetly, more melodiously than ever; Nikolai Ivanitch looked down; the Blinkard turned away; the Gabbler, quite touched, stood, his gaping mouth stupidly open; the humble peasant was sobbing softly in the corner, and shaking his head with a plaintive murmur; and on the iron visage of the Wild Master, from under his overhanging brows there slowly rolled a heavy tear; the booth-keeper raised his clenched fist to his brow, and did not stir.... I don't know how the general emotion would have ended, if Yakov had not suddenly come to a full stop on a high, exceptionally shrill note as though his voice had broken.
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