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A COUNTRY village wrapped in the darkness of night. One o'clock strikes from the belfry. Two lawyers, called Kozyavkin and Laev, both in the best of spirits and a little unsteady on their legs, come out of the wood and turn towards the cottages. "Well, thank God, we've arrived," says Kozyavkin, drawing a deep breath. "Tramping four miles from the station in our condition is a feat.
"In a minute. . . . I can't find my cape anywhere. . . . There are lots of old rags here, and I can't tell where the cape is. Throw me a match." "I haven't any." "We are in a hole, I must say! What am I to do? I can't go without my cape and my portfolio. I must find them." "I can't understand a man's not knowing his own cottage," says Laev indignantly.
Laev heaves a deep sigh, and with a hopeless gesture sits down on a stone. He is beset with a burning thirst, his eyes are closing, his head drops forward. . . . Five minutes pass, ten, twenty, and Kozyavkin is still busy among the hens. "Petya, will you be long?" "A minute. I found the portfolio, but I have lost it again." Laev lays his head on his fists, and closes his eyes.
What's the use of your giving me your card, sir?" "How dare you interfere with me! No! I won't have it!" "I am thirsty," thinks Laev, trying to open his eyes, and he feels somebody climb down from the window over his head. "My name is Kozyavkin! I have a cottage here. Everyone knows me." "We don't know anyone called Kozyavkin." "What are you saying? Call the elder. He knows me."
First one dog barks, then a second, and a third. . . . And the barking of the dogs blends with the cackling of the fowls into a sort of savage music. Someone comes up to Laev and asks him something. Then he hears someone climb over his head into the window, then a knocking and a shouting. . . . A woman in a red apron stands beside him with a lantern in her hand and asks him something.
Verotchka, tell Aksinya to unlock the gate for us!" You are not asleep, you know. Little wife, we are really so done up and exhausted that we're not in the mood for jokes. We've trudged all the way from the station! Don't you hear? Ah, hang it all!" I see you are just as great a schoolgirl as ever, Vera, you are always up to mischief!" "Perhaps Vera Stepanovna is asleep," says Laev.
Laev hears a minute later, "where are you? . . . D damnation! Tphoo! I've put my hand into something! Tphoo!" There is a rustling sound, a flapping of wings, and the desperate cackling of a fowl. "A nice state of things," Laev hears. "Vera, where on earth did these chickens come from? Why, the devil, there's no end of them! There's a basket with a turkey in it. . . . It pecks, the nasty creature."
"She isn't asleep! I bet she wants me to make an outcry and wake up the whole neighbourhood. I'm beginning to get cross, Vera! Ach, damn it all! Give me a leg up, Alyosha; I'll get in. You are a naughty girl, nothing but a regular schoolgirl. . . Give me a hoist." Puffing and panting, Laev gives him a leg up, and Kozyavkin climbs in at the window and vanishes into the darkness within. "Vera!"
The cries of men and fowls mingle with the barking of dogs, and the voice of Kozyavkin rises above the chaos of confused sounds: "You shut up! I'll pay. I'll show you whom you have to deal with!" Little by little the voices die down. Laev feels himself being shaken by the shoulder. . . .
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