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Do you desire me to save him perhaps for a long time for good, perhaps?" "Ah, listen to him! Listen to him, the dear little domovoi! But what will Koupriane say? He will not permit any venturing beyond the villa; none, at least for the moment. Ah, now, how he looks at me, the dear little domovoi! Oh, well, yes. There, I will do as you wish." "Very well, come into the garden with me."
"It is my happiness over our first promenade since we arrived at the datcha des Iles," she explained. "And now you must go upstairs to bed, Feodor. You will pass a good night, I am sure." "I can sleep only if you sleep, Matrena." "I promise you. It is quite possible now that we have our dear little domovoi. You know, Feodor, that he smokes his pipe just like the dear little porcelain domovoi."
Aided by by whom? Do you believe that? You? Light of my eyes! you believe that! No, no, that is not possible! I want you to understand, monsieur le domovoi, that I am not able to believe anything so horrible.
When the horses were brought round with matted manes, a sign of an affectionate visit from the Domovoi, which must not be removed, under penalty of his displeasure, it was useless to tell Alexandra that a weasel had been caught in the act, and that her sprite was no other. She clung to her belief in her dreaded friend. The bath was a small log house, situated a short distance from the manor.
"Very well, very well, dear little domovoi." She left him, not knowing what she thought about it all, nor what she should think her head was all in a muddle. In the course of the morning Athanase Georgevitch and Thaddeus Tchnitchnikof arrived. The general was already in the veranda. Michael and Boris arrived shortly after, and inquired in their turn how he had passed the night without the police.
And she carried him back into the apartment while she said quickly to Rouletabille: "Go, little domovoi! And God protect us!" Rouletabille disappeared at once through the door to the main staircase, and the group attended by Koupriane, passed through the dressing-room and the general's chamber, Matrena Petrovna in the lead with her precious burden.
"You are not curious, little domovoi doukh! A friend of the house, certainly, and who enters the house as he wishes, by night, because someone opens the window for him. And who comes from the Krestowsky Villa! Boris or Michael! Ah, poor miserable Matrena! Why don't they kill poor Matrena? Their general! Their general! And they are soldiers soldiers who come at night to kill their general.
He sprang from his bed in utter bewilderment, his brain whirling and burning, and at first could not make up his mind whether he had been favoured by a visit from the domovói, or by that of a real apparition. Approaching the window, he opened the fórtotchka. A sharp frosty breeze brought refreshment to his heated frame.
Boris's father likes to have the family lunch at the Barque when it is fine. Calm yourself, little domovoi. What ails you? Bad news, eh? Any bad news?" "No, no; everything is all right. Quick, the address of Boris's family." "The house at the corner of La Place St. Isaac and la rue de la Poste." "Good. Thank you. Adieu." He started for the Place St.
"Miserable little domovoi who told me nothing, me whom you let go to sleep on my mattress, in front of that door that might open any moment." "No, madame. For I was behind it!" "Ah, dear little holy angel! But what were you thinking of! That door has not been watched this afternoon. In our absence it could have been opened. If someone has placed a bomb during our absence!"
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