h was made of the choicest
sable-skin, and flung it out of the hole upon the ground, intending it
for himself, but had no sooner done so, than one of his masters took it
up and put it on. Tim then, letting himself down began to feel for the
cloak upon the ground, for it was very dark.

"What are you groping for?" said his masters.

"I am seeking for my cloak," answered Tim.

"What do you mean by calling it yours?" said one. "I have put it on
myself. How should it belong to you?"

"Because," said Tim, "I took it for myself, and not for you."

"But we are your instructors," said they, "consequently whatever you take
belongs to us."

"O! no," cried he, with a loud voice. "I got the money for you, it is
true, and no share of that belongs to me, but the cloak is mine."

"You lie, fool," said they.

"O! if you talk in that manner," said Tim, "I will go and ask the
Archimandrite, and the one to whom he adjudges it shall have the cloak."

"Let's see how you'll go to work," said they.

"You shall," said he, "only don't be afraid."

Thereupon, he went to the window of the cell in which the Archimandrite
and his servant slept, the latter a very lively lad, and a great teller
of pleasant stories. Tim peeping in, perceived that the Archimandrite
was asleep, and snoring like a hedgehog, but the lad was awake. Tim
tapped with his finger against the window, whereupon the lad got up and
looked out. But before he could ask who was there, Tim seized him by the
ears with both his hands, dragged him out, and tying a handkerchief over
his mouth, delivered him to the custody of his associates. Then climbing
softly in at the window, he lay down in the young fellow's bed. After
waiting a little time, he fell to arousing the Archimandrite. His
masters who were listening under the window, hearing him try to awake the
ghostly man, begged him to come out.

"What are you about?" they cried. "The devil take you and the cloak,
too! Woe is us, that we ever came here with you!"

But without attending to them, he cried:

"Father Archimandrite! your reverence!"

"Hey! what!" replied the Archimandrite, in a voice half-suffocated with
sleep.

"I have had a very bad dream," said Tim, "I dreamt that thieves broke
into the treasure-room, and carried away all the money, and also your
cloak of sable. He who climbed up to steal the treasure, took the cloak
out of the box, intending it for himself. He gave his comrades all the
mon