yellow. Almost lost in these, he then put on a
short chintz jacket, with a big scalloped collar, and a gold star
on the back, stockings of different colours, and green slippers.

Everything seemed going round before Auntie's eyes and in her soul.
The white-faced, sack-like figure smelt like her master, its voice,
too, was the familiar master's voice, but there were moments when
Auntie was tortured by doubts, and then she was ready to run away
from the parti-coloured figure and to bark. The new place, the
fan-shaped light, the smell, the transformation that had taken place
in her master--all this aroused in her a vague dread and a
foreboding that she would certainly meet with some horror such as
the big face with the tail instead of a nose. And then, somewhere
through the wall, some hateful band was playing, and from time to
time she heard an incomprehensible roar. Only one thing reassured
her--that was the imperturbability of Fyodor Timofeyitch. He dozed
with the utmost tranquillity under the stool, and did not open his
eyes even when it was moved.

A man in a dress coat and a white waistcoat peeped into the little
room and said:

"Miss Arabella has just gone on. After her--you."

Their master made no answer. He drew a small box from under the
table, sat down, and waited. From his lips and his hands it could
be seen that he was agitated, and Auntie could hear how his breathing
came in gasps.

"Monsieur George, come on!" someone shouted behind the door. Their
master got up and crossed himself three times, then took the cat
from under the stool and put him in the box.

"Come, Auntie," he said softly.

Auntie, who could make nothing out of it, went up to his hands, he
kissed her on the head, and put her beside Fyodor Timofeyitch. Then
followed darkness. . . . Auntie trampled on the cat, scratched at
the walls of the box, and was so frightened that she could not utter
a sound, while the box swayed and quivered, as though it were on
the waves. . . .

"Here we are again!" her master shouted aloud: "here we are again!"

Auntie felt that after that shout the box struck against something
hard and left off swaying. There was a loud deep roar, someone was
being slapped, and that someone, probably the monster with the tail
instead of a nose, roared and laughed so loud that the locks of the
box trembled. In response to the roar, there came a shrill, squeaky
laugh from her master, such as he never laughed at home.

"Ha