d the steppe is always lying stretched
out the same as it was--you can't see the end of it! It's not
travelling but regular torture. Why don't you drink your tea? Drink
it up; and in your absence, while you have been trailing along with
the waggons, we have settled all our business capitally. Thank God
we have sold our wool to Tcherepahin, and no one could wish to have
done better. . . . We have made a good bargain."

At the first sight of his own people Yegorushka felt an overwhelming
desire to complain. He did not listen to Father Christopher, but
thought how to begin and what exactly to complain of. But Father
Christopher's voice, which seemed to him harsh and unpleasant,
prevented him from concentrating his attention and confused his
thoughts. He had not sat at the table five minutes before he got
up, went to the sofa and lay down.

"Well, well," said Father Christopher in surprise. "What about your
tea?"

Still thinking what to complain of, Yegorushka leaned his head
against the wall and broke into sobs.

"Well, well!" repeated Father Christopher, getting up and going to
the sofa. "Yegory, what is the matter with you? Why are you crying?"

"I'm . . . I'm ill," Yegorushka brought out.

"Ill?" said Father Christopher in amazement. "That's not the right
thing, my boy. . . . One mustn't be ill on a journey. Aie, aie,
what are you thinking about, boy . . . eh?"

He put his hand to Yegorushka's head, touched his cheek and said:

"Yes, your head's feverish. . . . You must have caught cold or else
have eaten something. . . . Pray to God."

"Should we give him quinine? . . ." said Ivan Ivanitch, troubled.

"No; he ought to have something hot. . . . Yegory, have a little
drop of soup? Eh?"

"I . . . don't want any," said Yegorushka.

"Are you feeling chilly?"

"I was chilly before, but now . . . now I am hot. And I ache all
over. . . ."

Ivan Ivanitch went up to the sofa, touched Yegorushka on the head,
cleared his throat with a perplexed air, and went back to the table.

"I tell you what, you undress and go to bed," said Father Christopher.
"What you want is sleep now."

He helped Yegorushka to undress, gave him a pillow and covered him
with a quilt, and over that Ivan Ivanitch's great-coat. Then he
walked away on tiptoe and sat down to the table. Yegorushka shut
his eyes, and at once it seemed to him that he was not in the hotel
room, but on the highroad beside the camp fire. Emelyan waved his
hands,