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Yakov was silent for a minute; he glanced round, and covered his face with his hand. All had their eyes simply fastened upon him, especially the booth-keeper, on whose face a faint, involuntary uneasiness could be seen through his habitual expression of self-confidence and the triumph of his success.
The booth-keeper sang for a long while without evoking much enthusiasm in his audience; he lacked the support of a chorus; but at last, after one particularly bold flourish, which set even the Wild Master smiling, the Gabbler could not refrain from a shout of delight. Everyone was roused.
'Well, brother, you've given us a treat! bawled the Gabbler, not releasing the exhausted booth-keeper from his embraces; 'you've given us a treat, there's no denying! You've won, brother, you've won! I congratulate you the quart's yours!
'You sing beautifully, brother, beautifully, Nikolai Ivanitch observed caressingly. 'And now it's your turn, Yasha; mind, now, don't be afraid. We shall see who's who; we shall see. The booth-keeper sings beautifully, though; 'pon my soul, he does. 'Very beautifully, observed Nikolai Ivanitch's wife, and she looked with a smile at Yakov.
I looked round attentively; every face wore an expression of intense expectation; the Wild Master himself showed signs of uneasiness; my neighbour, even, the peasant in the tattered smock, craned his neck inquisitively. The Blinkard put his hand into the cap and took out the booth-keeper's halfpenny; every one drew a long breath. Yakov flushed, and the booth-keeper passed his hand over his hair.
The daughter of a booth-keeper in the bazaar a Jew, who hath no princely blood to spare a descendant a dog of a Jew, who maketh profit by lending his child to an impostor." The suggestion was powerful. In the heat of the debate, however, an almost forgotten voice reached him, reciting one of the consolations of Father Hilarion: "Temptations are for all of us; nor shall any man be free of them.
'Little Blinkard'll be his father over again, is said of him already, in undertones by the old men, as they sit on their mud walls gossiping on summer evenings, and every one knows what that means; there is no need to say more. As to Yashka the Turk and the booth-keeper, there is no need to say much about them.
The girl is the daughter of a booth-keeper in the bazaar a Jew, who has no princely blood to spare a descendant a dog of a Jew, who makes profit by lending his child to an impostor." "Whence hadst thou this this " The Greek paid no attention to the interruption. "The Princess Irene gives a fete this afternoon. The fishermen of the Bosphorus will be there in a body. I will be there.
'At your expense, brother, he added, addressing the booth-keeper. The latter nodded, sat down on the bench, pulled a piece of cloth out of his cap, and began wiping his face, while the Gabbler, with greedy haste, emptied his glass, and, with a grunt, assumed, after the manner of confirmed drinkers, an expression of careworn melancholy.
Emboldened by the signs of general approbation, the booth-keeper went off in a whirl of flourishes, and began to round off such trills, to turn such shakes off his tongue, and to make such furious play with his throat, that when at last, pale, exhausted, and bathed in hot perspiration, he uttered the last dying note, his whole body flung back, a general united shout greeted him in a violent outburst.
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