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Updated: June 6, 2025
"Very well, then, see for yourself," went on the red-nosed Pacomius, "see for yourself. If we give you everything, we are doing our work and not getting a kopeck!" "Let him pay," answered Kovroff, turning his eyes toward Bodlevski. Bodlevski took out his gold watch, his only inheritance from his father, and laid it down on the table before Kovroff with the five rubles that remained.
The red-nosed man approached Bodlevski: "We must get acquainted with each other," he said amiably. "I have the honor to present myself!" and he bowed low; "Former District Secretary Pacomius Borisovitch Prakkin. Let me request you first of all to order some vodka; my hand shakes, you know," he added apologetically. "I don't want it so much for myself as for my hand to steady it."
"I'll teach you to talk about the Penal Code!" and rising deliberately, he dealt Pacomius Borisovitch a well-directed blow on the head, which sent him rolling into the corner. Pacomius picked himself up, blinking with indignation. "What is the meaning of such conduct?" he asked loftily. "It means," said the red-headed man, "that if you mention the Penal Code again I'll knock your head off!"
And after a silence the Father continued: "No doubt the Trappist rule is hard, but it is mild if we carry our thoughts back to the rule of Saint Pacomius in the East.
"Knocked on the head!" briefly replied the red-headed man. "Knocked on the head?" repeated Pacomius Borisovitch. "Serious business. Comes under sections 332 and 727 of the Penal Code." "Driveling again!" cried the red-headed man.
"Knocked on the head!" briefly replied the red-headed man. "Knocked on the head?" repeated Pacomius Borisovitch. "Serious business. Comes under sections 332 and 727 of the Penal Code." "Driveling again!" cried the red-headed man.
And Pacomius Borisovitch, opening his portfolio, filled with all kinds of passports, certificates, and papers of identification, began to turn them over, but without taking any out of the portfolio. All with the same thought that some stranger might come in. "Ha! here's a new one! Where did it come from?" he cried. "I got it out of a new arrival," muttered the red-headed man. "Well done!
"Benedicite!" said Abbot Boniface, "now marry fie upon these hard benches with all my heart they are as uneasy as the scabella of our novices. Saint Jude be with us, Sir Knight, how have you contrived to pass over the night in this dungeon? An your bed was no softer than your seat, you might as well have slept on the stone couch of Saint Pacomius.
"Health to you, eaglets! honorable men of Vilna! What are you up to? What are you busy at?" cried the newcomer, swiftly approaching the table and taking the chair that Pacomius Borisovitch had just been knocked out of. "What is all this?" he continued, with one hand seizing the vial of colorless liquid and with the other the photograph of the college assessor's widow.
"Brothers, brothers!" cried Yuzitch in a good-humored tone; "we are losing precious time! Forgive him!" he added, turning to Pacomius. "You must forgive him!" "I forgive him," answered Pacomius, but the light in his eye showed that he was deeply offended. "Well," he went on, addressing Bodlevski, "will it suit you to have the person pass as Maria Solontseva, widow of a college assessor?"
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