way Chichikov sought a scapegoat upon
whose shoulders he could lay the blame for all that had annoyed him. He
found one in Nozdrev, and you may be sure that the scapegoat in question
received a good drubbing from every side, even as an experienced captain
or chief of police will give a knavish starosta or postboy a rating not
only in the terms become classical, but also in such terms as the said
captain or chief of police may invent for himself. In short, Nozdrev's
whole lineage was passed in review; and many of its members in the
ascending line fared badly in the process.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the town there was in progress an event
which was destined to augment still further the unpleasantness of our
hero's position. That is to say, through the outlying streets and
alleys of the town there was clattering a vehicle to which it would be
difficult precisely to assign a name, seeing that, though it was of a
species peculiar to itself, it most nearly resembled a large, rickety
water melon on wheels. Eventually this monstrosity drew up at the gates
of a house where the archpriest of one of the churches resided, and from
its doors there leapt a damsel clad in a jerkin and wearing a scarf over
her head. For a while she thumped the gates so vigorously as to set
all the dogs barking; then the gates stiffly opened, and admitted this
unwieldy phenomenon of the road. Lastly, the barinia herself alighted,
and stood revealed as Madame Korobotchka, widow of a Collegiate
Secretary! The reason of her sudden arrival was that she had felt so
uneasy about the possible outcome of Chichikov's whim, that during the
three nights following his departure she had been unable to sleep a
wink; whereafter, in spite of the fact that her horses were not shod,
she had set off for the town, in order to learn at first hand how the
dead souls were faring, and whether (which might God forfend!) she
had not sold them at something like a third of their true value. The
consequences of her venture the reader will learn from a conversation
between two ladies. We will reserve it for the ensuing chapter.

CHAPTER IX

Next morning, before the usual hour for paying calls, there tripped from
the portals of an orange-coloured wooden house with an attic storey and
a row of blue pillars a lady in an elegant plaid cloak. With her came
a footman in a many-caped greatcoat and a polished top hat with a gold
band. Hastily, but gracefully, the lady ascended