e? Gavrila might just . . ."

"Yourself Gavrila to the town sent. And Glafira is somewhere all
the evening gone. . . . There's nobody in the house. . . . _Was
wollen Sie doch?_"

"Well, what I wanted . . . it's . . . but, please, come in . . .
you needn't mind! . . . it's dark."

Rosalia Karlovna, a stout red-cheeked person, came in to the bedroom
and stood in an expectant attitude at the door.

"Sit down, please . . . you see, it's like this. . . . What on earth
am I to ask her for?" he wondered, stealing a glance at Uncle
Klavdy's portrait and feeling his soul gradually returning to
tranquility.

"What I really wanted to ask you was . . . Oh, when the man goes
to town, don't forget to tell him to . . . er . . . er . . . to get
some cigarette-papers. . . . But do, please sit down."

"Cigarette-papers? good. . . . _Was wollen Sie noch?_"

"_Ich will_ . . . there's nothing I will, but. . . But do sit down!
I shall think of something else in a minute."

"It is shocking for a maiden in a man's room to remain. . . . Mr.
Vaxin, you are, I see, a naughty man. . . . I understand. . . . To
order cigarette-papers one does not a person wake. . . . I understand
you. . . ."

Rosalia Karlovna turned and went out of the room.

Somewhat reassured by his conversation with her and ashamed of his
cowardice, Vaxin pulled the bedclothes over his head and shut his
eyes. For about ten minutes he felt fairly comfortable, then the
same nonsense came creeping back into his mind. . . . He swore to
himself, felt for the matches, and without opening his eyes lighted
a candle.

But even the light was no use. To Vaxin' s excited imagination it
seemed as though someone were peeping round the corner and that his
uncle's eyes were moving.

"I'll ring her up again . . . damn the woman!" he decided. "I'll
tell her I'm unwell and ask for some drops."

Vaxin rang. There was no response. He rang again, and as though
answering his ring, he heard the church-bell toll the hour.

Overcome with terror, cold all over, he jumped out of bed, ran
headlong out of his bedroom, and making the sign of the cross and
cursing himself for his cowardice, he fled barefoot in his night-shirt
to the governess's room.

"Rosalia Karlovna!" he began in a shaking voice as he knocked at
her door, "Rosalia Karlovna! . . . Are you asleep? . . . I feel
. . . so . . . er . . . er . . . unwell. . . . Drops! . . ."

There was no answer. Silence reigned.

"I beg you