d the skin behind his ears were now red with healthy
sunburn. In place of a clean new black suit he wore a dirty white
Circassian coat with a deeply pleated skirt, and he bore arms. Instead
of a freshly starched collar, his neck was tightly clasped by the red
band of his silk BESHMET. He wore Circassian dress but did not wear it
well, and anyone would have known him for a Russian and not a Tartar
brave. It was the thing--but not the real thing. But for all that, his
whole person breathed health, joy, and satisfaction.

'Yes, it seems funny to you,' said Vanyusha, 'but just try to talk to
these people yourself: they set themselves against one and there's an
end of it. You can't get as much as a word out of them.' Vanyusha
angrily threw down a pail on the threshold. 'Somehow they don't seem
like Russians.'

'You should speak to the Chief of the Village!'

'But I don't know where he lives,' said Vanyusha in an offended tone.

'Who has upset you so?' asked Olenin, looking round.

'The devil only knows. Faugh! There is no real master here. They say he
has gone to some kind of KRIGA, and the old woman is a real devil. God
preserve us!' answered Vanyusha, putting his hands to his head. 'How we
shall live here I don't know. They are worse than Tartars, I do
declare--though they consider themselves Christians! A Tartar is bad
enough, but all the same he is more noble. Gone to the KRIGA indeed!
What this KRIGA they have invented is, I don't know!' concluded
Vanyusha, and turned aside.

'It's not as it is in the serfs' quarters at home, eh?' chaffed Olenin
without dismounting.

'Please sir, may I have your horse?' said Vanyusha, evidently perplexed
by this new order of things but resigning himself to his fate.

'So a Tartar is more noble, eh, Vanyusha?' repeated Olenin, dismounting
and slapping the saddle.

'Yes, you're laughing! You think it funny,' muttered Vanyusha angrily.

'Come, don't be angry, Vanyusha,' replied Olenin, still smiling. 'Wait
a minute, I'll go and speak to the people of the house; you'll see I
shall arrange everything. You don't know what a jolly life we shall
have here. Only don't get upset.'

Vanyusha did not answer. Screwing up his eyes he looked contemptuously
after his master, and shook his head. Vanyusha regarded Olenin as only
his master, and Olenin regarded Vanyusha as only his servant; and they
would both have been much surprised if anyone had told them that they
were friends, as they re