l produced no stir in the town, and was
accompanied by no particular incident, beyond that a couple of peasants
who happened to be standing at the door of a dramshop exchanged a few
comments with reference to the equipage rather than to the individual
who was seated in it. "Look at that carriage," one of them said to the
other. "Think you it will be going as far as Moscow?" "I think it will,"
replied his companion. "But not as far as Kazan, eh?" "No, not as far as
Kazan." With that the conversation ended. Presently, as the britchka was
approaching the inn, it was met by a young man in a pair of very short,
very tight breeches of white dimity, a quasi-fashionable frockcoat, and
a dickey fastened with a pistol-shaped bronze tie-pin. The young man
turned his head as he passed the britchka and eyed it attentively;
after which he clapped his hand to his cap (which was in danger of being
removed by the wind) and resumed his way. On the vehicle reaching the
inn door, its occupant found standing there to welcome him the polevoi,
or waiter, of the establishment--an individual of such nimble and
brisk movement that even to distinguish the character of his face was
impossible. Running out with a napkin in one hand and his lanky form
clad in a tailcoat, reaching almost to the nape of his neck, he tossed
back his locks, and escorted the gentleman upstairs, along a wooden
gallery, and so to the bedchamber which God had prepared for the
gentleman's reception. The said bedchamber was of quite ordinary
appearance, since the inn belonged to the species to be found in all
provincial towns--the species wherein, for two roubles a day, travellers
may obtain a room swarming with black-beetles, and communicating by a
doorway with the apartment adjoining. True, the doorway may be blocked
up with a wardrobe; yet behind it, in all probability, there will be
standing a silent, motionless neighbour whose ears are burning to learn
every possible detail concerning the latest arrival. The inn's exterior
corresponded with its interior. Long, and consisting only of two
storeys, the building had its lower half destitute of stucco; with the
result that the dark-red bricks, originally more or less dingy, had
grown yet dingier under the influence of atmospheric changes. As for the
upper half of the building, it was, of course, painted the usual tint
of unfading yellow. Within, on the ground floor, there stood a number
of benches heaped with horse-collars, rop