chair, and to sing snatches of a popular song. To the
champagne succeeded Hungarian wine, which had the effect of still
further heartening and enlivening the company. By this time every
one had forgotten about whist, and given himself up to shouting and
disputing. Every conceivable subject was discussed, including politics
and military affairs; and in this connection guests voiced jejune
opinions for the expression of which they would, at any other time, have
soundly spanked their offspring. Chichikov, like the rest, had never
before felt so gay, and, imagining himself really and truly to be a
landowner of Kherson, spoke of various improvements in agriculture, of
the three-field system of tillage [33], and of the beatific felicity of
a union between two kindred souls. Also, he started to recite poetry to
Sobakevitch, who blinked as he listened, for he greatly desired to go to
sleep. At length the guest of the evening realised that matters had gone
far enough, so begged to be given a lift home, and was accommodated with
the Public Prosecutor's drozhki. Luckily the driver of the vehicle was
a practised man at his work, for, while driving with one hand, he
succeeded in leaning backwards and, with the other, holding Chichikov
securely in his place. Arrived at the inn, our hero continued babbling
awhile about a flaxen-haired damsel with rosy lips and a dimple in her
right cheek, about villages of his in Kherson, and about the amount of
his capital. Nay, he even issued seignorial instructions that Selifan
should go and muster the peasants about to be transferred, and make a
complete and detailed inventory of them. For a while Selifan listened
in silence; then he left the room, and instructed Petrushka to help the
barin to undress. As it happened, Chichikov's boots had no sooner
been removed than he managed to perform the rest of his toilet without
assistance, to roll on to the bed (which creaked terribly as he did so),
and to sink into a sleep in every way worthy of a landowner of Kherson.
Meanwhile Petrushka had taken his master's coat and trousers of
bilberry-coloured check into the corridor; where, spreading them over a
clothes' horse, he started to flick and to brush them, and to fill the
whole corridor with dust. Just as he was about to replace them in his
master's room he happened to glance over the railing of the gallery, and
saw Selifan returning from the stable. Glances were exchanged, and in
an instant the pair had ar