seated third from the bow would raise, as from
a nightingale's throat, the opening staves of a boat song, and then be
joined by five or six more, until the melody had come to pour forth in a
volume as free and boundless as Russia herself. And Pietukh, too, would
give himself a shake, and help lustily to support the chorus; and even
Chichikov felt acutely conscious of the fact that he was a Russian. Only
Platon reflected: "What is there so splendid in these melancholy songs?
They do but increase one's depression of spirits."

The journey homeward was made in the gathering dusk. Rhythmically the
oars smote a surface which no longer reflected the sky, and darkness had
fallen when they reached the shore, along which lights were twinkling
where the fisherfolk were boiling live eels for soup. Everything had now
wended its way homeward for the night; the cattle and poultry had
been housed, and the herdsmen, standing at the gates of the village
cattle-pens, amid the trailing dust lately raised by their charges,
were awaiting the milk-pails and a summons to partake of the eel-broth.
Through the dusk came the hum of humankind, and the barking of dogs in
other and more distant villages; while, over all, the moon was rising,
and the darkened countryside was beginning to glimmer to light again
under her beams. What a glorious picture! Yet no one thought of admiring
it. Instead of galloping over the countryside on frisky cobs,
Nikolasha and Aleksasha were engaged in dreaming of Moscow, with its
confectioners' shops and the theatres of which a cadet, newly arrived on
a visit from the capital, had just been telling them; while their father
had his mind full of how best to stuff his guests with yet more food,
and Platon was given up to yawning. Only in Chichikov was a spice of
animation visible. "Yes," he reflected, "some day I, too, will become
lord of such a country place." And before his mind's eye there arose
also a helpmeet and some little Chichikovs.

By the time that supper was finished the party had again over-eaten
themselves, and when Chichikov entered the room allotted him for the
night, he lay down upon the bed, and prodded his stomach. "It is as
tight as a drum," he said to himself. "Not another titbit of veal could
now get into it." Also, circumstances had so brought it about that
next door to him there was situated his host's apartment; and since the
intervening wall was thin, Chichikov could hear every word that was
sai