man to see. Go and help him, Telepen Kuzma."

With that the peasants indicated picked up by the head what was a
veritable monster of a fish.

"Isn't it a beauty--a sturgeon fresh run from the river?" exclaimed the
stout barin. "And now let us be off home. Coachman, you can take the
lower road through the kitchen garden. Run, you lout of a Thoma Bolshoy,
and open the gate for him. He will guide you to the house, and I myself
shall be along presently."

Thereupon the barelegged Thoma Bolshoy, clad in nothing but a shirt,
ran ahead of the koliaska through the village, every hut of which had
hanging in front of it a variety of nets, for the reason that every
inhabitant of the place was a fisherman. Next, he opened a gate into a
large vegetable enclosure, and thence the koliaska emerged into a square
near a wooden church, with, showing beyond the latter, the roofs of the
manorial homestead.

"A queer fellow, that Koshkarev!" said Chichikov to himself.

"Well, whatever I may be, at least I'm here," said a voice by his side.
Chichikov looked round, and perceived that, in the meanwhile, the barin
had dressed himself and overtaken the carriage. With a pair of yellow
trousers he was wearing a grass-green jacket, and his neck was as
guiltless of a collar as Cupid's. Also, as he sat sideways in his
drozhki, his bulk was such that he completely filled the vehicle.
Chichikov was about to make some remark or another when the stout
gentleman disappeared; and presently his drozhki re-emerged into view at
the spot where the fish had been drawn to land, and his voice could be
heard reiterating exhortations to his serfs. Yet when Chichikov reached
the verandah of the house he found, to his intense surprise, the stout
gentleman waiting to welcome the visitor. How he had contrived to
convey himself thither passed Chichikov's comprehension. Host and guest
embraced three times, according to a bygone custom of Russia. Evidently
the barin was one of the old school.

"I bring you," said Chichikov, "a greeting from his Excellency."

"From whom?"

"From your relative General Alexander Dmitrievitch."

"Who is Alexander Dmitrievitch?"

"What? You do not know General Alexander Dmitrievitch Betrishev?"
exclaimed Chichikov with a touch of surprise.

"No, I do not," replied the gentleman.

Chichikov's surprise grew to absolute astonishment.

"How comes that about?" he ejaculated. "I hope that I have the honour of
addressing Colonel Koshka