nd unbearable!

Once--it was towards evening--he raised his head to ask for
water. The waggons were standing on a big bridge across a broad
river. There was black smoke below over the river, and through it
could be seen a steamer with a barge in tow. Ahead of them, beyond
the river, was a huge mountain dotted with houses and churches; at
the foot of the mountain an engine was being shunted along beside
some goods trucks.

Yegorushka had never before seen steamers, nor engines, nor broad
rivers. Glancing at them now, he was not alarmed or surprised; there
was not even a look of anything like curiosity in his face. He
merely felt sick, and made haste to turn over to the edge of the
bale. He was sick. Panteley, seeing this, cleared his throat and
shook his head.

"Our little lad's taken ill," he said. "He must have got a chill
to the stomach. The little lad must. . . away from home; it's a bad
lookout!"

VIII

The waggons stopped at a big inn for merchants, not far from the
quay. As Yegorushka climbed down from the waggon he heard a very
familiar voice. Someone was helping him to get down, and saying:

"We arrived yesterday evening. . . . We have been expecting you all
day. We meant to overtake you yesterday, but it was out of our way;
we came by the other road. I say, how you have crumpled your coat!
You'll catch it from your uncle!"

Yegorushka looked into the speaker's mottled face and remembered
that this was Deniska.

"Your uncle and Father Christopher are in the inn now, drinking
tea; come along!"

And he led Yegorushka to a big two-storied building, dark and gloomy
like the almshouse at N. After going across the entry, up a dark
staircase and through a narrow corridor, Yegorushka and Deniska
reached a little room in which Ivan Ivanitch and Father Christopher
were sitting at the tea-table. Seeing the boy, both the old men
showed surprise and pleasure.

"Aha! Yegor Ni-ko-la-aitch!" chanted Father Christopher. "Mr.
Lomonosov!"

"Ah, our gentleman that is to be," said Kuzmitchov, "pleased to see
you!"

Yegorushka took off his great-coat, kissed his uncle's hand and
Father Christopher's, and sat down to the table.

"Well, how did you like the journey, puer bone?" Father Christopher
pelted him with questions as he poured him out some tea, with his
radiant smile. "Sick of it, I've no doubt? God save us all from
having to travel by waggon or with oxen. You go on and on, God
forgive us; you look ahead an