er held in one hand a basket of mushrooms, with the other he
playfully fingered a cheap watch-chain on his waistcoat. On seeing
us he was taken aback, smoothed his waistcoat, coughed politely,
and gave an agreeable smile, as though he were delighted to see
such nice people as us. Then, to our complete surprise, he came up
to us, scraping with his long feet on the grass, bending his whole
person, and, still smiling agreeably, lifted his hat and pronounced
in a sugary voice with the intonations of a whining dog:

"Aie, aie . . . gentlemen, painful as it is, it is my duty to warn
you that shooting is forbidden in this wood. Pardon me for venturing
to disturb you, though unacquainted, but . . . allow me to present
myself. I am Grontovsky, the head clerk on Madame Kandurin's estate."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, but why can't we shoot?"

"Such is the wish of the owner of this forest!"

The prince and I exchanged glances. A moment passed in silence. The
prince stood looking pensively at a big fly agaric at his feet,
which he had crushed with his stick. Grontovsky went on smiling
agreeably. His whole face was twitching, exuding honey, and even
the watch-chain on his waistcoat seemed to be smiling and trying
to impress us all with its refinement. A shade of embarrassment
passed over us like an angel passing; all three of us felt awkward.

"Nonsense!" I said. "Only last week I was shooting here!"

"Very possible!" Grontovsky sniggered through his teeth. "As a
matter of fact everyone shoots here regardless of the prohibition.
But once I have met you, it is my duty . . . my sacred duty to warn
you. I am a man in a dependent position. If the forest were mine,
on the word of honour of a Grontovsky, I should not oppose your
agreeable pleasure. But whose fault is it that I am in a dependent
position?"

The lanky individual sighed and shrugged his shoulders. I began
arguing, getting hot and protesting, but the more loudly and
impressively I spoke the more mawkish and sugary Grontovsky's face
became. Evidently the consciousness of a certain power over us
afforded him the greatest gratification. He was enjoying his
condescending tone, his politeness, his manners, and with peculiar
relish pronounced his sonorous surname, of which he was probably
very fond. Standing before us he felt more than at ease, but judging
from the confused sideway glances he cast from time to time at his
basket, only one thing was spoiling his sati