And how could Tchertop-hanov fail to prize his horse?
Was it not thanks to him, he had again an unmistakable
superiority, a last superiority over all his neighbours?
VI
Meanwhile time went by, the day fixed for payment
was approaching; while, far from having two hundred
and fifty roubles, Tchertop-hanov had not even fifty.
What was to be done? how could it be met? ‘Well,’
he decided at last, ’if the Jew is relentless,
if he won’t wait any longer, I’ll give
him my house and my land, and I’ll set off on
my horse, no matter where! I’ll starve
before I’ll give up Malek-Adel!’ He was
greatly perturbed and even downcast; but at this juncture
Fate, for the first and last time, was pitiful and
smiled upon him; some distant kinswoman, whose very
name was unknown to Tchertop-hanov, left him in her
will a sum immense in his eyes—no less than
two thousand roubles! And he received this sum
in the very nick, as they say, of time; the day before
the Jew was to come. Tchertop-hanov almost went
out of his mind with joy, but he never even thought
of vodka; from the very day Malek-Adel came into his
hands he had not touched a drop.
He ran into the stable and kissed his favourite on
both sides of his face above the nostrils, where the
horse’s skin is always so soft. ’Now
we shall not be parted!’ he cried, patting Malek-Adel
on the neck, under his well-combed mane. When
he went back into the house, he counted out and sealed
up in a packet two hundred and fifty roubles.
Then, as he lay on his back and smoked a pipe, he
mused on how he would lay out the rest of the money—what
dogs he would procure, real Kostroma hounds, spot and
tan, and no mistake! He even had a little talk
with Perfishka, to whom he promised a new Cossack
coat, with yellow braid on all the seams, and went
to bed in a blissful frame of mind.
He had a bad dream: he dreamt he was riding out,
hunting, not on Malek-Adel, but on some strange beast
of the nature of a unicorn; a white fox, white as
snow, ran to meet him.... He tried to crack his
whip, tried to set the dogs on her—but instead
of his riding-whip, he found he had a wisp of bast
in his hand, and the fox ran in front of him, putting
her tongue out at him. He jumped off, his unicorn
stumbled, he fell... and fell straight into the arms
of a police-constable, who was taking him before the
Governor-General, and whom he recognised as Yaff....
Tchertop-hanov waked up. The room was dark; the
cocks were just crowing for the second time....
Somewhere in the far, far distance a horse neighed.
Tchertop-hanov lifted up his head.... Once more
a faint, faint neigh was heard.
‘That’s Malek-Adel neighing!’ was
his thought.... ’It’s his neigh.
But why so far away? Bless us and save us!...
It can’t be...’
Tchertop-hanov suddenly turned chill all over; he
instantly leaped out of bed, fumbled after his boots
and his clothes, dressed himself, and, snatching up
the stable-door key from under his pillow, he dashed
out into the courtyard.
Copyrights
A Sportsman's Sketches, Volume 2 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
