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Updated: June 16, 2025


He moved about in his chair, attempting to free his hands, and cried out, flashing his eyes with fury: "Unbind my hands!" They came closer to him; the faces of the merchants became more severe, and Reznikov said to him impressively: "Don't make a noise, don't be bothersome! We'll soon be in town. Don't disgrace yourself, and don't disgrace us either.

And Foma looked now at one, now at another, and recalled what he knew about them. There was Lup Reznikov; he had begun his career as a brothel-keeper, and had become rich all of a sudden. They said he had strangled one of his guests, a rich Siberian. Zubov's business in his youth had been to purchase thread from the peasants. He had failed twice.

You are murderers! Do you understand that you exist today only through the patience of mankind?" "What does this mean?" exclaimed Reznikov, clasping his hands in rage and indignation. "Ilya Yefimov, what's this? I can't bear to hear such words." "Gordyeeff!" cried Bobrov. "Look out, you speak improper words." "For such words you'll get oi, oi, oi!" said Zubov, insinuatingly.

Everyone heard it and became silent for a moment, searching with their eyes the man who had abused them. At this moment nothing was heard save the deep sighs of the engines and the clanking of the rudder chains. "Who's snarling there?" asked Kononov with a frown. "We can't get along without scandals!" said Reznikov, with a contrite sigh. "Who was swearing here at random?"

"What truth can you speak? What do you understand?" "My heart is wounded, that I understand! What justification have you all in the eyes of God? To what purpose do you live? Yes, I feel I felt the truth!" "He is repenting!" said Reznikov, with a sarcastic smile. "Let him!" replied Bobrov, with contempt. Some one added: "It is evident, from his words, that he is out of his wits."

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