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Updated: May 25, 2025
Here, too, I am in terror of my life, for if it were known that I held intercourse with Mîtri, they would cast me off. Well, thou hast no more hope from them, thanks to thy rashness. Why couldst thou not shun the priest here, as I told thee to? Now, with all the Orthodox boasting of thy conversion, thou art more than ever accursed in their sight.
At the door of the hotel they found Elias waiting. He stood forth and greeted the Emîr quite unabashed, convulsed with laughter at the latter's cold amazement. "You thinkin' of that business in the garden? Neffer fear, sir! That was all a dam' bad joke of that briest-fellow, Mîtri I'll be efen with him yet, by Jingo! all to pay me out because I neffer gif him nothing when he bless my house.
On a pause he thrust in his question; when the missionary, who had been smiling at a joke of Mîtri's, became of a sudden very grave. "He lies at the gate of death," was his answer. "The doctor doubts if he will pass this night; but if he sees to-morrow's light, it means that he will live, in sh' Allah!" "May Allah preserve the poor young man!" said Mîtri, and resumed the controversy.
Then at last came peace; she snored aloud; while Iskender thought of the valley full of gold, whose true existence had been miraculously revealed to him, and then of the career as a church painter offered to him by the priest Mîtri. Anything was better than to be the fatted slave of the missionaries, who, he felt sure, hated him. His desire was to be loved.
He returned the greeting mechanically, then, seeing who it was, let fall his playthings and stared solemnly at the disturber. Iskender became uncomfortably conscious of his festive raiment, more especially of the umbrella, which seemed to fascinate Mîtri.
Nobody felt inclined either to talk or to eat. But they all forced themselves to eat and to talk, and so luncheon went on. The peasant who had been begging because his horse had died was named Mitri Sudarikov. He had spent the whole day before he went to the squire over his dead horse. First of all he went to the knacker, Sanin, who lived in a village near.
Only two human beings were in sight the priest, one Mîtri, eminent in black robe and tower-like headdress, sat in thought beneath the oak-tree, and a child in a sky-blue kirtle sprawled at play upon the threshold of one of the houses. The coo of doves and cluck of hens, the only voices, sounded peaceful in the sun-filled air.
In a flash he remembered the beautiful child, the daughter of Mîtri, and his heart beat fiercely. The violent change of emotion paralysed him for some seconds; then he turned round suddenly and made a grab. The girl suppressed a scream, and tried to run, but he had caught her arm.
"O my soul!" cried Asad, panting, as he drew near. "What are these tidings that we hear of thee? Why wilt thou show thyself to disadvantage?" Pausing to gather breath, he caught Iskender's hand and pressed it to his heart. "What is this talk of thy friendship with the priest Mîtri? Wouldst thou for ever forfeit the goodwill of those above?"
The words resemble bricks in that they seem, if possible, to increase the height of the walls of strange and extraneous events, and even stranger dramas, which loom for ever around, me. "For example," continues the old man, "why is Mitri Ermolaev Polukonov, our ex-mayor, lying dead before his time? Because he conceived a number of arrogant projects.
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