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Updated: June 18, 2025
He read it aloud in here and boasted, 'Now I have caused Petunikoff some loss!" "Ye es... Well, then, do you want to be reconciled?" "To be reconciled?" The soldier lowered his head and thought. "Ah! This is a hard life!" said he, in a querulous voice, scratching his head. "One must learn by experience," Petunikoff reassured him, lighting a cigarette.
This hoarseness pleased and tranquillized Petunikoff, he even smiled. "A man! And are there really men like you?" Stepping aside he let the old man pass. He went, saying slowly: "Men are of various kinds . . . as God wills . . . There are worse than me . . . still worse . . . Yes. . . ."
He entered quietly, and stood behind Petunikoff, so that his chin was on a level with the merchant's head. Behind him stood the Deacon, opening his small, swollen, red eyes. "Let us be doing something, gentlemen," suggested the Doctor. Martyanoff made an awful grimace, and suddenly sneezed on Petunikoff's head.
He sat imagining many horrible forms of disaster while watching Petunikoff, who was descending the hill into the wood like a spider going into its web. Last night he even imagined that the wood gave way before the merchant and he fell ... but afterwards he found that he had only been dreaming.
Young Petunikoff entered slowly, took off his hat, looked around him, and said to the eating-house keeper: "Egor Terentievitch Vaviloff? Are you he?" "I am," answered the sergeant, leaning on the bar with both arms as if intending to jump over it. "I have some business with you," said Petunikoff. "Delighted. Please come this way to my private room."
"But," interrupted Petunikoff, "that is not exactly the reason why. As far as I can see, you do not distinctly understand why you wish to be reconciled to us ... I will tell you." The soldier was a little surprised.
After this, he took out his eye-glasses, and began cleaning them with his handkerchief. Vaviloff looked at him sadly and respectfully. The calm face of Petunikoff, his grey eyes and clear complexion, every line of his thickset body betokened self-confidence and a well-balanced mind.
They measured the yard and put small wooden sticks in various places, which, after the exit of Petunikoff and at the order of the Captain, Meteor took out and threw away. To the eyes of the Captain this merchant appeared small and thin. He wore a long garment like a frock-coat, a velvet cap, and high, well-cleaned boots.
The place of the merchant Judas Petunikoff ought to be in penal servitude, but he still walks through the streets in daylight, and even intends to build a factory. The place of our teacher ought to be beside a wife and half-a-dozen children, but he is loitering in the public-house of Vaviloff. And then, there is yourself.
It seemed as if he were laughing quietly at the prospect of leaving the dosshouse, never, never to return. Petunikoff, who was following him with his eyes, crossed himself, and then began to shake the dust and rubbish off his clothes, and the more he shook himself the more pleased and self-satisfied did he feel.
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