se became
greater. "When had you the time to run up such a debt? It is
impossible. Do what you please, excellency, but I will not give this
money."

I then considered that, if in this decisive moment I did not oblige this
obstinate old man to obey me, it would be difficult for me in future to
free myself from his tutelage. Glancing at him haughtily, I said to
him--

"I am your master; you are my servant. The money is mine; I lost it
because I chose to lose it. I advise you not to be headstrong, and to
obey your orders."

My words made such an impression on Saveliitch that he clasped his hands
and remained dumb and motionless.

"What are you standing there for like a stock?" I exclaimed, angrily.

Saveliitch began to weep.

"Oh! my father, Petr' Andrejitch," sobbed he, in a trembling voice; "do
not make me die of sorrow. Oh! my light, hearken to me who am old;
write to this robber that you were only joking, that we never had so
much money. A hundred roubles! Good heavens! Tell him your parents have
strictly forbidden you to play for anything but nuts."

"Will you hold your tongue?" said I, hastily, interrupting him. "Hand
over the money, or I will kick you out of the place."

Saveliitch looked at me with a deep expression of sorrow, and went to
fetch my money. I was sorry for the poor old man, but I wished to assert
myself, and prove that I was not a child. Zourine got his hundred
roubles.

Saveliitch was in haste to get me away from this unlucky inn; he came in
telling me the horses were harnessed. I left Simbirsk with an uneasy
conscience, and with some silent remorse, without taking leave of my
instructor, whom I little thought I should ever see again.

CHAPTER II.

THE GUIDE.

My reflections during the journey were not very pleasant. According to
the value of money at that time, my loss was of some importance. I could
not but confess to myself that my conduct at the Simbirsk Inn had been
most foolish, and I felt guilty toward Saveliitch. All this worried me.
The old man sat, in sulky silence, in the forepart of the sledge, with
his face averted, every now and then giving a cross little cough. I had
firmly resolved to make peace with him, but I did not know how to begin.
At last I said to him--

"Look here, Saveliitch, let us have done with all this; let us make
peace."

"Oh! my little father, Petr' Andrejitch," he replied, with a deep sigh,
"I am angry with myself; it is I who am to blame