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Updated: May 23, 2025
Kononov had been tried twenty years ago for arson, and even now he was indicted for the seduction of a minor. Together with him, for the second time already, on a similar charge, Zakhar Kirillov Robustov had been dragged to court. Robustov was a stout, short merchant with a round face and cheerful blue eyes.
Overturning the chairs, jostling the tables, thus causing the dishes and the bottles to rattle and fall, the merchants, agitated, delighted, some with tears in their eyes, rushed toward Mayakin with goblets in their hands. "Ah! Do you understand what has been said here?" asked Kononov, grasping Robustov by the shoulder and shaking him. "Understand it! That was a great speech!" "Yakov Tarasovich!
"What are you laughing at? What makes you glad? You will also go to the galleys." "Put him ashore!" suddenly roared Robustov, springing to his feet. And Kononov shouted to the captain: "Back! To the town! To the Governor." And someone insinuatingly, in a voice trembling with feeling: "That's a collusive agreement. That was done on purpose. He was instigated, and made drunk to give him courage."
"I ask! you to admire him, that's the kind of a fellow he is!" One after another the merchants moved toward Foma, and on their faces he saw wrath, curiosity, a malicious feeling of satisfaction, fear. Some one of those modest people among whom Foma was sitting, whispered to him: "Give it to them. God bless you. Go ahead! That will be to your credit." "Robustov!" cried Foma.
A crowd had gathered around Yakov Tarasovitch Mayakin, and listened to his quiet speech with anger, and nodded their heads affirmatively. "Act, Yakov!" said Robustov, loudly. "We are all witnesses. Go ahead!" And above the general tumult of voices rang out Foma's loud, accusing voice: "It was not life that you have built you have made a cesspool! You have bred filth and putrefaction by your deeds!
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