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"Well, well, and mine's like that too," chimed in Zherbenev. Glafira Pavlovna smiled graciously at both of them. "Whom are you talking about?" asked Kerbakh at last, rather annoyed at his companion. Zherbenev replied: "There is a chap here what's his name? You remember we met him at the pier some time ago. He was rather interested in Trirodov." "You mean Ostrov?" ventured Kerbakh.
They were the retired District Attorney Kerbakh and the retired Colonel Zherbenev, both large land-proprietors and patriots members of the Union of Russian People. Their speech was loud and vehement, and interpolated with such strange words and phrases as "treachery," "sedition," "hang them," "wipe them out," "give it to them." Nikolai Ilyitch Kerbakh was a small, thin, puny-looking man.
Trirodov am I right?" "My dear sir, you...." began Kerbakh. The new-comer immediately jumped to his feet and began to apologize profusely. "May I impose upon your good nature to forgive my impertinent curiosity. I am Ostrov, the actor tragedian. You may have heard of me?" "For the first time," said Kerbakh surlily. "I've never heard the name," said Zherbenev.
"I do not take up my time with calumnies," said Zherbenev dryly. "Oh, I beg your pardon. But I'll not intrude upon you any longer. I'm very grateful for the pleasant conversation and for the interesting information." Ostrov left them. Kerbakh and Zherbenev quietly discussed him. "What a strange-looking man! Quite a beast!" "Yes, what a character! I shouldn't like to meet him alone in the woods."
The boy quickly repeated the words he had studied: "And afterwards the foul corpses of the vile enemies of the Fatherland should be thrown on the dunghill." Kerbakh and Zherbenev laughed gleefully. "That describes them foul carrion, that's what they are!" said Zherbenev in a hoarse voice.
The apparent purpose of this request was to establish a connexion between the local section of the All-Russian Black Hundred union organized by Kerbakh, Zherbenev, and Konopatskaya, the wife of a general with the central office of the organization.
The stranger smiled pleasantly, as if he had been commended, and continued to speak without showing the slightest embarrassment: "Well er I've played in many cities. I'm just passing through here. I'm on my way to attend to some personal business in the Rouban Government. And you just happened to mention a name very familiar to me." Kerbakh and Zherbenev exchanged glances.
The honorary overseer, Zherbenev, invited all who attended the examination to his house to dinner. Only Voronok refused the invitation. But Zherbenev invited others to the dinner the general's widow, Glafira Pavlovna, and Kerbakh among them. It was a long and lavish dinner. The guests drank much during and after the meal. Every one got tipsy. Doulebov alone remained sober.
The Doulebovs tried all sorts of pinpricks and coarse insinuations; their companions followed suit. Every one tried to outdo the other in saying caustic, spiteful things. Doulebov looked with simulated horror at Trirodov's instructresses who happened to be present, and whispered to Kerbakh: "Their feet are soiled with earth." After luncheon they returned to the school.
The youngster slipped off his chair, stretched himself smartly to his full height in front of his father, and lisped again: "Yeth, father?" And he surveyed those sitting at the other tables with a quick, sly look. "What should be done with the enemies of the Tsar and the Fatherland?" asked Kerbakh. "They should be destroyed!" answered the boy alertly. "And afterwards?" continued his father.
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