it true, that you don't know whom you've thrashed? And is
it really only for Sophya Pavlovna?"

"It is, by God!" avowed Foma.

"So, the devil knows what the result may be!" He stopped short, shrugged
his shoulders perplexedly, waved his hand, and again began to pace
the sidewalk, looking at Foma askance. "You'll pay for this, Foma
Ignatyevich."

"Will he take me to court?"

"Would to God he does. He is the Vice-Governor's son-in-law."

"Is that so?" said Foma, slowly, and made a long face.

"Yes. To tell the truth, he is a scoundrel and a rascal. According to
this fact I must admit, that he deserves a drubbing. But taking into
consideration the fact that the lady you defended is also--"

"Sir!" said Foma, firmly, placing his hand on Ookhtishchev's shoulder,
"I have always liked you, and you are now walking with me. I understand
it and can appreciate it. But do not speak ill of her in my presence.
Whatever she may be in your opinion, in my opinion, she is dear to me.
To me she is the best woman. So I am telling you frankly. Since you are
going with me, do not touch her. I consider her good, therefore she is
good."

There was great emotion in Foma's voice. Ookhtishchev looked at him and
said thoughtfully:

"You are a queer man, I must confess."

"I am a simple man--a savage. I have given him a thrashing and now I
feel jolly, and as to the result, let come what will.'

"I am afraid that it will result in something bad. Do you know--to be
frank, in return for your frankness--I also like you, although--Mm! It
is rather dangerous to be with you. Such a knightly temper may come over
you and one may get a thrashing at your hands."

"How so? This was but the first time. I am not going to beat people
every day, am I?" said Foma, confused. His companion began to laugh.

"What a monster you are! Listen to me--it is savage to fight--you must
excuse me, but it is abominable. Yet, I must tell you, in this case you
made a happy selection. You have thrashed a rake, a cynic, a parasite--a
man who robbed his nephews with impunity."

"Well, thank God for that!" said Foma with satisfaction. "Now I have
punished him a little."

"A little? Very well, let us suppose it was a little. But listen to me,
my child, permit me to give you advice. I am a man of the law. He, that
Kayazev, is a rascal! True! But you must not thrash even a rascal, for
he is a social being, under the paternal custody of the law. You cannot
touch him unt