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"I've just heard," said Voronok, "that a nine-year-old boy is kept in confinement by the police." "The young rebel!" said the Vice-Governor savagely. "Yes, and I've also heard," said Poterin, "that a thirteen-year-old boy has been arrested. Such a little beggar, and already in revolt." The Vice-Governor said morosely: "He's going with his grandfather to Siberia."
Inspector Poterin, fawning before Doulebov and his wife, said in a flustered way: "Our building is anything but showy." Doulebov smiled amiably and replied encouragingly: "The building is not the important thing. The school itself is good. The instruction is to be valued and not the walls."
"What of that?" "Out of bribes." Zinaida Grigorievna was overjoyed, and grew animated. For a long time the whispers of the malicious women were audible, and between their whispers their hissing, snake-like laughter. Then the women, together with Shabalov and Voronok, went off to finish the examination. Doulebov and the Vice-Governor went in to look at the library. Poterin accompanied them.
The Vice-Governor looked gloomily at Poterin and said morosely: "He's going to pull you all up." Poterin grew deathly pale and broke out into perspiration. The conversation about the Marquis Teliatnikov continued, and the local revolutionary ferment was mentioned in the course of it. Revolutionary proclamations had appeared in all the woods of the neighbourhood.
Doulebov, with a patronizing amiableness, said again to him: "You have a good school. Everything is in exemplary order." Poterin grew radiant and boasted: "Yes, I know how to pull them up. I treat them sternly." "A salutary sternness," said Doulebov. Encouraged by these words, the instructor-inspector asked: "Do you think one might also beat them?" Doulebov avoided a direct answer.
He occupied himself with attentions to Zinaida Grigorievna Doulebova, to whom he showed various services with an unexpected and rather vulgar amiableness. The instructor-inspector, Mikhail Prokopievitch Poterin, conducted himself like a lackey. It was even evident at times that he trembled before the Doulebovs. What reason had he to be afraid? He was a great patriot a member of the Black Hundred.
Instructor Mouralov's wife took advantage of an opportune moment to speak to Doulebova. She cautiously stole up to her when she saw her standing aside and told her that Poterin took bribes. Separate phrases and words were distinguished from the rest of the conversation. "Have you noticed, Zinaida Grigorievna?" "What's that?" "Our inspector is parading in gloves." "Yes?" "Gloves! Yellow ones!"
Everything was in order. The thick volumes of Katkov quietly slumbered; the dust had been wiped from them on the eve of the Vice-Governor's visit. Poterin made use of an opportunity to make insinuations against the instructors. He reported that Voronok did not go to church, and that he collected schoolboys at his own house in order to read something or other to them.
Doulebov wiped his face with his right hand like a cat licking its paw and piped out: "I hear that the Marquis Teliatnikov is to pay us a visit soon." "We are not within his jurisdiction," said Poterin. But his whole face became distorted with apprehension. "All the same," said Doulebov in his thin voice, "he possesses great powers. He can do what he likes."
"Why?" asked Voronok with a flushed face. "He laughed," growled the Vice-Governor morosely. Doulebov turned to Poterin and asked in a loud voice: "And I hope you have no rebels in your school." "No, thank God, I have nothing of that kind," replied Poterin. "But, to tell the truth, the children are very loose nowadays."
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