"A queer fellow, that Koshkarev!" said Chichikov to himself.
"Well, whatever I may be, at least I'm here," said a voice by his side. Chichikov looked round, and perceived that, in the meanwhile, the barin had dressed himself and overtaken the carriage. With a pair of yellow trousers he was wearing a grass-green jacket, and his neck was as guiltless of a collar as Cupid's. Also, as he sat sideways in his drozhki, his bulk was such that he completely filled the vehicle.
Chichikov was about to make some remark or another when the stout gentleman disappeared; and presently his drozhki re-emerged into view at the spot where the fish had been drawn to land, and his voice could be heard reiterating exhortations to his serfs. Yet when Chichikov reached the verandah of the house he found, to his intense surprise, the stout gentleman waiting to welcome the visitor. How he had contrived to convey himself thither passed Chichikov's comprehension.
Host and guest embraced three times, according to a bygone custom of Russia. Evidently the barin was one of the old school.
"I bring you," said Chichikov, "a greeting from his Excellency.""From whom?"
"From your relative General Alexander Dmitrievitch.""Who is Alexander Dmitrievitch?"
"What? You do not know General Alexander Dmitrievitch Betrishev?"exclaimed Chichikov with a touch of surprise.
"No, I do not," replied the gentleman.
Chichikov's surprise grew to absolute astonishment.
"How comes that about?" he ejaculated. "I hope that I have the honour of addressing Colonel Koshkarev?""Your hopes are vain. It is to my house, not to his, that you have come; and I am Peter Petrovitch Pietukh--yes, Peter Petrovitch Pietukh."Chichikov, dumbfounded, turned to Selifan and Petrushka.
"What do you mean?" he exclaimed. "I told you to drive to the house of Colonel Koshkarev, whereas you have brought me to that of Peter Petrovitch Pietukh.""All the same, your fellows have done quite right," put in the gentleman referred to. "Do you" (this to Selifan and Petrushka) "go to the kitchen, where they will give you a glassful of vodka apiece. Then put up the horses, and be off to the servants' quarters.""I regret the mistake extremely," said Chichikov.
"But it is not a mistake. When you have tried the dinner which I have in store for you, just see whether you think IT a mistake. Enter, Ibeg of you." And, taking Chichikov by the arm, the host conducted him within, where they were met by a couple of youths.
"Let me introduce my two sons, home for their holidays from the Gymnasium[3]," said Pietukh. "Nikolasha, come and entertain our good visitor, while you, Aleksasha, follow me." And with that the host disappeared.
[3] Secondary School.
Chichikov turned to Nikolasha, whom he found to be a budding man about town, since at first he opened a conversation by stating that, as no good was to be derived from studying at a provincial institution, he and his brother desired to remove, rather, to St. Petersburg, the provinces not being worth living in.
"I quite understand," Chichikov thought to himself. "The end of the chapter will be confectioners' assistants and the boulevards.""Tell me," he added aloud, "how does your father's property at present stand?""It is all mortgaged," put in the father himself as he re-entered the room. "Yes, it is all mortgaged, every bit of it.""What a pity!" thought Chichikov. "At this rate it will not be long before this man has no property at all left. I must hurry my departure." Aloud he said with an air of sympathy: "That you have mortgaged the estate seems to me a matter of regret.""No, not at all," replied Pietukh. "In fact, they tell me that it is a good thing to do, and that every one else is doing it. Why should Iact differently from my neighbours? Moreover, I have had enough of living here, and should like to try Moscow--more especially since my sons are always begging me to give them a metropolitan education.""Oh, the fool, the fool!" reflected Chichikov. "He is for throwing up everything and ****** spendthrifts of his sons. Yet this is a nice property, and it is clear that the local peasants are doing well, and that the family, too, is comfortably off. On the other hand, as soon as ever these lads begin their education in restaurants and theatres, the devil will away with every stick of their substance. For my own part, I could desire nothing better than this quiet life in the country.""Let me guess what is in your mind," said Pietukh.
"What, then?" asked Chichikov, rather taken aback.
"You are thinking to yourself: 'That fool of a Pietukh has asked me to dinner, yet not a bite of dinner do I see.' But wait a little. It will be ready presently, for it is being cooked as fast as a maiden who has had her hair cut off plaits herself a new set of tresses.""Here comes Platon Mikhalitch, father!" exclaimed Aleksasha, who had been peeping out of the window.
"Yes, and on a grey horse," added his brother.
"Who is Platon Mikhalitch?" inquired Chichikov.
"A neighbour of ours, and an excellent fellow."The next moment Platon Mikhalitch himself entered the room, accompanied by a sporting dog named Yarb. He was a tall, handsome man, with extremely red hair. As for his companion, it was of the keen-muzzled species used for shooting.
"Have you dined yet?" asked the host.
"Yes," replied Platon.
"Indeed? What do you mean by coming here to laugh at us all? Do I ever go to YOUR place after dinner?"The newcomer smiled. "Well, if it can bring you any comfort," he said, "let me tell you that I ate nothing at the meal, for I had no appetite.""But you should see what I have caught--what sort of a sturgeon fate has brought my way! Yes, and what crucians and carp!""Really it tires one to hear you. How come you always to be so cheerful?""And how come YOU always to be so gloomy?" retorted the host.
"How, you ask? Simply because I am so."
