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Updated: June 6, 2025
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."
Saint Pacomius knew heretics by their foul smell; Saint Catherine of Siena, Saint Joseph of Cupertino and Mother Agnes of Jesus discovered sins by their evil odours; Saint Hilarion, Saint Lutgarde, Gentilla of Ravenna, could tell merely by the scent of those whom they met what faults they had committed. "And the Saints themselves, whether living or dead, exhaled powerful perfumes.
Pacomius Borisovitch again interrupted. "We are only getting twenty rubles for the job. The whole gang will pledge their words of honor to that. Do you think we would lie to you and stain the honor of the gang for twenty measly rubles?" "That is business. That was well said. I love a good speech, and am always ready to respect it," remarked Sergei Antonitch approvingly.
"Thanks for the compliment!" interrupted Pacomius Borisovitch. The fair-haired man nodded to him satirically. "I need a lot more," he repeated firmly and impressively; "and if you don't give me at least twenty-five rubles I'll denounce you this very minute to the police and you see I have my witnesses ready." "Sergei Antonitch! Mr. Kovroff! Have mercy on us! Where can we get so much from?
"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.
"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?"
"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.
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