sants
(they turned out to be cab-drivers), another little man, half drunk,
dressed like a peasant but clean-shaven, who seemed like a townsman
ruined by drink and talked more than any of them. And they were all
discussing him, Stepan Trofimovitch. The peasant with the cow insisted
on his point that to go round by the lake would be thirty-five miles out
of the way, and that he certainly must go by steamer. The half-drunken
man and the man of the house warmly retorted:

"Seeing that, though of course it will be nearer for his honour on
the steamer over the lake; that's true enough, but maybe according to
present arrangements the steamer doesn't go there, brother."

"It does go, it does, it will go for another week," cried Anisim, more
excited than any of them.

"That's true enough, but it doesn't arrive punctually, seeing it's late
in the season, and sometimes it'll stay three days together at Ustyevo."

"It'll be there to-morrow at two o'clock punctually. You'll be at Spasov
punctually by the evening," cried Anisim, eager to do his best for
Stepan Trofimovitch.

_"Mais qu'est-ce qu'il a cet homme,"_ thought Stepan Trofimovitch,
trembling and waiting in terror for what was in store for him.

The cab-drivers, too, came forward and began bargaining with him; they
asked three roubles to Ustyevo. The others shouted that that was not too
much, that that was the fare, and that they had been driving from here
to Ustyevo all the summer for that fare.

"But... it's nice here too.... And I don't want..." Stepan Trofimovitch
mumbled in protest.

"Nice it is, sir, you are right there, it's wonderfully nice at Spasov
now and Fyodor Matveyevitch will be so pleased to see you."

"_Mon Dieu, mes amis,_ all this is such a surprise to me."

At last Sofya Matveyevna came back. But she sat down on the bench
looking dejected and mournful.

"I can't get to Spasov!" she said to the woman of the cottage.

"Why, you are bound to Spasov, too, then?" cried Stepan Trofimovitch,
starting.

It appeared that a lady had the day before told her to wait at Hatovo
and had promised to take her to Spasov, and now this lady had not turned
up after all.

"What am I to do now?" repeated Sofya Matveyevna.

"_Mais, ma chere et nouvelle amie,_ I can take you just as well as the
lady to that village, whatever it is, to which I've hired horses, and
to-morrow--well, to-morrow, we'll go on together to Spasov."

"Why, are you going to Spasov too?"