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Updated: May 15, 2025
He had taken her fancy, according to Panteley Eremyitch, simply by constantly curling his moustaches, pomading himself to excess, and sniggering significantly; but one must suppose that the vagrant gypsy blood in Masha's veins had more to do with it. However that may have been, one fine summer evening Masha tied up a few odds and ends in a small bundle, and walked out of Tchertop-hanov's house.
His little house could be seen a long way off; it stood out on a bare place, half a mile from the village, on the 'bluff, as it is called, like a hawk on a ploughed field. Tchertop-hanov's homestead consisted of nothing more than four old tumble-down buildings of different sizes that is, a lodge, a stable, a barn, and a bath-house.
The master could not explain what was the matter; nor could the servant make out what was wanted of him. 'Woe! woe! wailed Tchertop-hanov. 'Woe! woe! the groom repeated after him. 'A lantern! here! light a lantern! Light! light! broke at last from Tchertop-hanov's fainting lips. Perfishka rushed into the house.
Tchertop-hanov's head went round; it seemed as though a bell was booming in his brain.
When they buried him, two men followed his coffin; the groom Perfishka and Moshel Leyba. The news of Tchertop-hanov's death had somehow reached the Jew, and he did not fail to pay this last act of respect to his benefactor. 'O native land of long suffering, Land of the Russian people. F. TYUTCHEV.
All the hunt fairly flew after it, and Tchertop-hanov flew along too, but not with the rest of the party, but two hundred paces to one side of it, just as he had done the time before. A huge watercourse ran zigzagging across the hillside, and as it rose higher and higher got gradually narrower, cutting off Tchertop-hanov's path.
'Your ex-shelency, defend me, save me! the unhappy Jew was faltering meanwhile, his whole body squeezed up against Tchertop-hanov's foot; 'or they will murder me, they will murder me, your ex-shelency! 'What have they against you? asked Tchertop-hanov. 'I can't tell, so help me God!
In anticipation of a triumph a triumph repeated in such a delightful way Tchertop-hanov chuckled exultantly, cracked his riding-whip; the hunting party were galloping too, their eyes fixed on the daring rider; his horse whizzed along like a bullet, and now the watercourse was just under his nose now, now, at one leap, as then!... But Malek-Adel pulled up sharply, wheeled to the left, and in spite of Tchertop-hanov's tugging him to the edge, to the watercourse, he galloped along beside the ravine.
He marvelled at him, he exhausted all the force of his soul in his admiration of him, he regarded him as an extraordinary man, as clever, as learned. And there's no denying that, bad as Tchertop-hanov's education might be, still, in comparison with Tihon's education, it might pass for brilliant.
'Who's that? I inquired of Yermolai. 'That? Nedopyuskin, Tihon Ivanitch. He lives at Tchertop-hanov's. 'What is he, a poor man? 'He's not rich; but, to be sure, Tchertop-hanov's not got a brass farthing either. 'Then why does he live with him? 'Oh, they made friends. One's never seen without the other.... It's a fact, indeed where the horse puts its hoof, there the crab sticks its claw.
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