man. 'How much?'

'Twenty-six rubles.'

The tall man considered for a moment, but said nothing and put the bill
in his pocket.

The other two continued their talk.

'Good-bye, you are a capital fellow!' said the short plain man with the
mild eyes. Tears filled the eyes of both. They stepped into the porch.

'Oh, by the by,' said the traveller, turning with a blush to the tall
man, 'will you settle Chevalier's bill and write and let me know?'

'All right, all right!' said the tall man, pulling on his gloves. 'How
I envy you!' he added quite unexpectedly when they were out in the
porch.

The traveller got into his sledge, wrapped his coat about him, and
said: 'Well then, come along!' He even moved a little to make room in
the sledge for the man who said he envied him--his voice trembled.

'Good-bye, Mitya! I hope that with God's help you...' said the tall
one. But his wish was that the other would go away quickly, and so he
could not finish the sentence.

They were silent a moment. Then someone again said, 'Good-bye,' and a
voice cried, 'Ready,' and the coachman touched up the horses.

'Hy, Elisar!' One of the friends called out, and the other coachman and
the sledge-drivers began moving, clicking their tongues and pulling at
the reins. Then the stiffened carriage-wheels rolled squeaking over the
frozen snow.

'A fine fellow, that Olenin!' said one of the friends. 'But what an
idea to go to the Caucasus--as a cadet, too! I wouldn't do it for
anything. ... Are you dining at the club to-morrow?'

'Yes.'

They separated.

The traveller felt warm, his fur coat seemed too hot. He sat on the
bottom of the sledge and unfastened his coat, and the three shaggy
post-horses dragged themselves out of one dark street into another,
past houses he had never before seen. It seemed to Olenin that only
travellers starting on a long journey went through those streets. All
was dark and silent and dull around him, but his soul was full of
memories, love, regrets, and a pleasant tearful feeling.

Chapter II

'I'm fond of them, very fond! ... First-rate fellows! ... Fine!' he
kept repeating, and felt ready to cry. But why he wanted to cry, who
were the first-rate fellows he was so fond of--was more than he quite
knew. Now and then he looked round at some house and wondered why it
was so curiously built; sometimes he began wondering why the post-boy
and Vanyusha, who were so different from himself, sat so near, and