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"... a man by name Alexander Petrovich Mamaev from Novo-Nikolaevsk. He has a plan of his own, which he wants to accomplish. He has some people working for him, nothing serious, if I may judge. On the stations Mamaev's people are now hiring horses and coachmen. They have collected money amongst the merchants. They plan to take the Emperor as far as Blagoveshchensk-on-Amur.
In 1830, Baron Ferdinand Petrovich Wrangell, scientist and explorer, came to administer the office. He had sailed the frozen ocean along the northern shores of Siberia as an explorer, and Wrangell Island, Wrangell Strait, etc., on the maps of today perpetuate his name.
Petrovich's eye was indeed very much askew after Saturday. His head drooped, and he was very sleepy; but for all that, as soon as he knew what it was a question of, it seemed as though Satan jogged his memory. "Impossible," said he. "Please to order a new one." Thereupon Akaky Akakiyevich handed over the ten-kopek piece. "Thank you, sir. I will drink your good health," said Petrovich.
But after Yakov and Petrovich had been discharged, he felt that he was in everybody's way, that no one cared to play with him and that no one regarded him kindly. Surprised and melancholy, he left the deck, walked up to the wheel, sat down there, and, offended, he thoughtfully began to stare at the distant green bank and the dented strip of woods upon it.
"But this is an abomination ... At Treppel's the women are better-looking, at least." Ramses, walking behind, burst into dry laughter. "So, so, Gavrila Petrovich. Let us continue in the same spirit.
He had been trying unsuccessfully for three minutes to thread his needle, and was enraged at the darkness and even at the thread, growling in a low voice, "It won't go through, the barbarian! you pricked me, you rascal!" Akaky Akakiyevich was vexed at arriving at the precise moment when Petrovich was angry.
Sometimes his wife and mother-in-law used to come from Kurilovka to see him; they were both fair, languid, soft, and they used to bow to him humbly and call him Stiepan Petrovich. And he would not answer their greeting with a word or a sign, but would turn where he sat on the bank and hum quietly: "U-lu-lu-lu." There would be a silence for an hour or two.
"Open the gate, please," said some one in a hollow bass voice. "I have a telegram for you." Olenka had received telegrams from her husband before; but this time, somehow, she was numbed with terror. She opened the telegram with trembling hands and read: "Ivan Petrovich died suddenly to-day. Awaiting propt orders for wuneral Tuesday."
"He is the chairman of the council and all the jobs in the district are given to his nephews and brothers-in-law, and he does exactly as he likes. We ought to fight him. The young people ought to form a strong party; but you see what our young men are like. It is a shame, Piotr Petrovich." The younger sister, Genya, was silent during the conversation about the Zemstvo.
Ivan Petrovich was at that time amusing himself in Paris, having retired from the service soon after the year 1815. On receiving the news of his father's death, he determined to return to Russia. The organization of his property had to be considered. Besides, according to Glafira's letter, Fedia had finished his twelfth year; and the time had come for taking serious thought about his education.
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