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Gnashing his teeth, Tchertop-hanov snatched them out of the hands of the flustered Perfishka, and began striking a light himself; the sparks fell in abundance, in still greater abundance fell curses, and even groans; but the tinder either did not catch or went out again, in spite of the united efforts of four swollen cheeks and lips to blow it into a flame!
The parish deacon got a letter from Panteley Eremyitch himself, in which he informed him of his intention of arriving at Bezsonovo, and asked him to prepare his servant to be ready for his immediate return. These words Perfishka understood to mean that he was to sweep up the place a bit.
The last yard of this stuff must have been woven in Utrecht or Lyons in the time of the Empress Elisabeth! The Subotchev's coachman, too, was old an ancient, ancient old man with a constant smell of tar and cart-oil about him. His beard began just below the eyes, while the eyebrows fell in little cascades to meet it. He was called Perfishka, and was extremely slow in his movements.
Perfishka rushed up to his master, and, holding the stirrup, would have helped him to dismount, but the latter got off alone, and with a triumphant glance about him, cried in a loud voice: 'I said I would find Malek-Adel, and I have found him in spite of my enemies, and of Fate itself! Perfishka went up to kiss his hand, but Tchertop-hanov paid no attention to his servant's devotion.
'It's I, your groom, Perfishka. 'What do you want? Is he found? has he run home? 'No, Panteley Eremyitch; but that Jew chap who sold him.... 'Well? 'He's come. 'Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! yelled Tchertop-hanov, and he at once flung open the door. 'Drag him here! drag him along!
'You might as well be married to me at once! jested Perfishka, giving the cook a dig in the ribs with his elbow. 'No fear! the master'll never come back to us; and here I shall be bored to death all alone! A year passed... a whole year: no news had come of Panteley Eremyitch.
Well, money's a thing one may get again, but the great thing is, I've Malek-Adel back again! I'm happy now I'm going to enjoy myself in peace. And I've one instruction to give you, Perfishka: if ever you, which God forbid, catch sight of the Cossack in this neighbourhood, run the very minute without saying a word, and bring me my gun, and I shall know what to do!
His clothes were covered with mud, his face had a wild and ferocious expression, his eyes looked dull and sullen. In a hoarse whisper he drove Perfishka away, and locked himself in his room. He could hardly stand with fatigue, but he did not lie on his bed, but sat down on a chair by the door and clutched at his head. 'Stolen!... stolen!...
Malek-Adel! he ran straight into the open country. Perfishka remained standing bewildered at the fence. The ring of light from the lantern was soon lost to his eyes, swallowed up in the dense darkness of a starless, moonless night. Fainter and fainter came the sound of the despairing cries of Tchertop-hanov.... It was daylight when he came home again. He hardly looked like a human being.
For more than two hours Tchertop-hanov wandered up and down his room. 'Perfishka! he called peremptorily all of a sudden, 'run this minute to the tavern; fetch a gallon of vodka! Do you hear? A gallon, and look sharp! I want the vodka here this very second on the table! The vodka was not long in making its appearance on Panteley Eremyitch's table, and he began drinking.
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