• 'What about Merik?' .nskcd Lyubka.
'Merik ain't one of us,' s::^id Knlashnikov. 'He comcs from the Kharkov country, from Mizhirich. Rut it's true he's quite a bd -a good man he is, we ain't got no complaints.'
Lyubka gave Merik a sly, gleeful look.
'Yes, no wonder he was ducked in that ice-hole,' she said.
'How was that?' asked Yergunov.
'Wc11, it was this way,' said Merik with a laugh. 'Filya stole three horscs off somc tenant farmers in Samoylovka, and they thought it was me. In Samoylovka there were about ten of these farmers a11 told, and with their labourers that made thirty men, a11 of the Molokan sect.
'"Come and have a look, Merik," says one of them at the market. "We've brought some new horses from the fair".
'We11, I'm interested, natura1ly, so along I go. Then the whole lot of them, a11 thirty, tie my hands behind me and take me to the river.
'"We'll give you horses!" say they.
'There's one holc in the ice already, and they cut another next to it, seven feet away. Then they take a rope, see? They put a noose under my armpits and tie a crooked stick to the other end, so it will go through both holes see? We11, they shove the stick through and haul, while I—just as I am in fur coat and high boots—crash into that ice- hole with them standing there kicking me in or ramming me with a chopper. Then they drag me under the ice and haul me out of the other hole.'
Lyubka shuddered and hunched herself together.
'First thing I felt was the cold shock,' Merik went on. 'But when they pull me out I'm helpless, I just lie on the snow with them Molokans standing by hitting my knees and elbows with their sticks. It doesn't half hurt! When they've beaten me they go away, but everything on me's frozen, my clothes is a11 ice. I stand up, but I ain't got no strength. Then a peasant woman drives past, thank God, and gives me a lift.'
Meanwhile Yergunov had drunk five or six glasses. Feeling light- hearted, he too had an urge to spin some weird and wonderful yam, showing that he was a bit of a lad himself and afraid of nothing.
'Once at home in Penza Province—' he began.
Because he had drunk a lot and was rather tipsy—and perhaps be- cause he had been caught out lying a couple of times—the peasants took not the slightest notice of him, and even stopped answering his questions. What's more, they pernitted themselves such outspoken- ness in his presence—ignoring him, in other words—that a creepy, cold feeling came over him.
Kalashnikov had the dignified bcaring of a solid, respectable citizen. He spoke at length, making the sign of the cross over his mouth whenever he yawned, and no one could have kno^ that he was a thief, a cruel bandit who robbed the poor, had been to prison twice already, and had been sentenced to Siberian exile by his village com- munity, except that his father and uncle—robbers and good-for-nothings like himself—had bought him off. But Merik had a dashing air. Seeing Lyubka and Kalashnikov admiring him, and t^^^g himself no end of a lad, he kept putting his arms akimbo, puffing out his chest, and stretching so violently that the bench creaked.
After supper Kalashnikov faced the icon and said grace without standing up, and shook Merik's hand. Merik said grace too, and shook Kalashnikov's hand. Lyubka cleared away supper, threw some pepper- mint cakes, roast nuts and pumpkin seeds on the table, and served two bottles of sweet wine.
'May old Andrew rest in peace,' said Kalashnikov, clinking glasses with Merik, 'and the Kingdom of Heaven be his. When he was alive we used to meet here, or at his brother Martin's, and—what men those were, heaven help us, what talk we had! Wonderful talk! Martin would be there, with Filya and Theodore Stukotey. It was all right and proper—but what a time we had, we didn't half have fun!'
Lyubka went out and came back a little later wearing a green ker- chief and beads.
'Look, Meri.k,' she said. 'See what Kalashnikov brought me today.'
She looked at herself in the mirror, tossing her head several times to make the beads jingle. Then she opened a chest and began taking out ... first a cotton dress with red and blue polka-dots, then another—red, with flounces, rustling and swishing like paper—then a new kerchief, navy-blue shot with rainbow colours. She displayed all these things, laughing and flinging up her arms as if amazed that such treasures should be hers.
Kalashnikov tuned the balalaika and started playing, and Yergunov simply could not make out what kind of song he was singing, gay or sad—for it was so very sad at times that you felt like crying, but then it would brighten up again. Suddenly Merik shot up and began stamp- ing his heels on one spot. Then he spread his arms and strutted on his heels from table to stove and from stove to chest, after which he flew up as if stung, clicking heel-plates in mid-air and launching himself into a squatting dance. Lyubka threw up both hands with a frantic squeak and followed suit. First she moved sideways—viciously, as if wanting to creep up on someone and hit them from behind. She rapidly clattered her bare heels as Merik had clattered his boot-heels, spun top-like and crouched, her red dress billowing like a bell. Glaring at her angrily and baring his teeth, Merik swooped towards her, doing squat- ting steps, and wanting to destroy her with his terrible legs, but she jumpcd up and tossed back her head. Waving her arms as a big bird flaps its wings, she floated across the room, scarce touching the floor.
'Phew, that girl has spirit!' Yergunov thought, sitting on the chest and observing the dance from there. 'What fire! Nothing's too good for her.'
He regretted being a medical orderly instead of an ordinary peasant. Why must he wear a coat and a watch-chain with a gilt key, and not a navy-blue shirt with a cord belt—in which case, he, like Merik, could have sWlg boldly, danced, drunk and thrown both arns round Lyubka ?
The rat-tat-tat, the shouts, the whoops set crockery jingling in the cupboard and made the candle-light dance. The thread broke, and Lyubka's beads flew all over the floor, the green kerchief slippcd off her head, and she was less like a girl than a red cloud whipping by with dark eyes flashing, while Merik's hands and feet looked ready to fly off at any moment.
Then Merik gave a last stamp and stood like one rootcd to the spot.
Exhausted, scarcely breathing, Lyubka stooped ovcr his chest, lean- ing on him as on a post, while he embraced her, looked into her eyes, and spoke tenderly and affectionately as if in jest.
'I'll fi.nd out where your old mother's money's hidden later on. I'll kill her, I'll cut your little throat with my little knife, and then I'll set fire to the inn. It'll be thought you both died in the fire, and I'll take your money to the Kuban and keep droves ofhorses, and raise sheep.'
Not answering, Lyubka only looked at him guiltily.
'Is it nice in the Kuban, Merik ?' she asked.
He said nothing, but went to the chest and sat down, deep in thought—dreaming about the Kuban, most likely.
'It's time I was going, though,' said Kalaslinikov, standing up. 'Filya must bc expecting me by now. Good-bye, Lyubka.'
YergWlov wcnt out into thc yard to makc surc that Kalashnikov did not takc his horsc. Still thc blizzard raged. Thcir long tails clinging to wccds and bushcs, whitc clouds floatcd about thc yard, whilc in thc ficlds bcyond thc fcncc, giants in broad-slccvcd whitc shrouds whirlcd and fcll, thcn stood up again to wavc thcir arms and fight. And what a galc was blowing! Unablc to cndurc its rudc carcsscs, bare birchcs and chcrry-trccs bowcd down to thc ground.