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They held peculiar conversations, words and gestures for use in the room, and all this was changed outside the room, into the most commonplace and human. Sometimes, in the room, they all blazed up like a huge woodpile, and Yozhov was the brightest firebrand among them; but the light of this bonfire illuminated but faintly the obscurity of Foma Gordyeeff's soul.

Among merchants he enjoyed the respect and reputation of a "brainy" man, and he was very fond of boasting of the antiquity of his race, saying in a hoarse voice: "We, the Mayakins, were merchants during the reign of 'Mother' Catherine, consequently I am a pure-blooded man." In this family Ignat Gordyeeff's son lived for six years.

The beautiful and mighty "Yermak," Gordyeeff's steam tow-boat, was rapidly floating down the current, and on each side the shores of the powerful and beautiful Volga were slowly moving past him the left side, all bathed in sunshine, stretching itself to the very end of the sky like a pompous carpet of verdure; the right shore, its high banks overgrown with woods, swung skyward, sinking in stern repose.

The barges were led by Gordyeeff's steamer "Philezhny," under the command of Foma's old acquaintance, the former sailor Yefim now, Yefim Ilyich, a squarely built man of about thirty with lynx-like eyes a sober-minded, steady and very strict captain. They sailed fast and cheerfully, because all were contented. At first Foma was proud of the responsible commission with which he had been charged.

He shuddered and said confusedly: "Gordyeeff." "Ignat Gordyeeff's?" "Yes." Now the second captain was taken aback. He straightened himself, expanded his chest and for some reason or other cleared his throat impressively. Then his shoulders sank and he said to the boy in a fatherly tone: "It's a shame! The son of such a well-known and respected man! It is unbecoming your position. You may go.

Tell me how have you lived, what have you done? What are you looking at? Ah! That's my godson. Ignat Gordyeeff's son, Foma. Do you remember Ignat?" "I remember everything," said Taras. "Oh! That's good, if you are not bragging. Well, are you married?" "I am a widower." "Have you any children?" "They died. I had two." "That's a pity. I would have had grandchildren." "May I smoke?" asked Taras.