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So one morning, four miles from Bezsonovo, Tchertop-hanov chanced to come upon the same prince's hunting party before whom he had cut such a triumphant figure a year and a half before. And, as fate would have it, just as on that day a hare must go leaping out from the hedge before the dogs, down the hillside! Tally-ho! Tally-ho!
The parish deacon got a letter from Panteley Eremyitch himself, in which he informed him of his intention of arriving at Bezsonovo, and asked him to prepare his servant to be ready for his immediate return. These words Perfishka understood to mean that he was to sweep up the place a bit.
One day he sauntered, riding on Malek-Adel, about the back-yards of the priest's quarters round about the church of the parish in which is Bezsonovo. Huddled up, with his Cossack fur cap pulled down over his eyes, and his hands hanging loose on the saddle-bow, he jogged slowly on, a vague discontent in his heart. Suddenly someone called him.
'Quicker, quicker, quicker! Nedopyuskin chimed in, speaking very fast. It was late in the evening when I left Bezsonovo.... It was two years after my visit that Panteley Eremyitch's troubles began his real troubles. Disappointments, disasters, even misfortunes he had had before that time, but he had paid no attention to them, and had risen superior to them in former days.
Of Russian writers he respected Derzhavin, but liked Marlinsky, and called Ammalat-Bek the best of the pack.... A few days after my first meeting with the two friends, I set off for the village of Bezsonovo to see Panteley Eremyitch.
He succeeded in dying at home in his own bed, surrounded by his own people, and under the care of his own doctor; but nothing was left to poor Panteley but Bezsonovo. Panteley heard of his father's illness while he was still in the service, in the very heat of the 'difficulties' mentioned above. He was only just nineteen.
Tchertop-hanov would not even hear anything. There was no help for it; the poor Jew consented. The next day Tchertop-hanov set out from Bezsonovo in a peasant cart, with Leyba.
I live at Bezsonovo, and so you can take proceedings against me, when you think fit and against the Jew too, while you're about it! 'Why take proceedings? said a grey-bearded, decent-looking peasant, bowing low, the very picture of an ancient patriarch. 'We know your honour, Panteley Eremyitch, well; we thank your honour humbly for teaching us better!
The estate came into Panteley Eremyitch's father's hands in a crippled condition; he, in his turn, 'played ducks and drakes' with it, and when he died, left his sole heir, Panteley, the small mortgaged village of Bezsonovo, with thirty-five souls of the male, and seventy-six of the female sex, and twenty-eight acres and a half of useless land on the waste of Kolobrodova, no record of serfs for which could be found among the deceased's deeds.
There was left nothing but a sense of shame and loathing and the consciousness, unmistakeable, that this time he had put an end to himself too. Six weeks later, the groom Perfishka thought it his duty to stop the commissioner of police as he happened to be passing Bezsonovo. 'What do you want? inquired the guardian of order.
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