show up with the whiteness of a snowdrift. Likewise nightingales were
warbling from the recesses of the foliage, and some wood tulips were
glowing yellow in the grass. Next (and almost before Chichikov had
realised how he came to be in such a beautiful spot when, but a moment
before, there had been visible only open fields) there glimmered among
the trees the stony whiteness of a church, with, on the further side
of it, the intermittent, foliage-buried line of a fence; while from the
upper end of a village street there was advancing to meet the vehicle a
gentleman with a cap on his head, a knotted cudgel in his hands, and a
slender-limbed English dog by his side.

"This is my brother," said Platon. "Stop, coachman." And he descended
from the koliaska, while Chichikov followed his example. Yarb and the
strange dog saluted one another, and then the active, thin-legged,
slender-tongued Azor relinquished his licking of Yarb's blunt jowl,
licked Platon's hands instead, and, leaping upon Chichikov, slobbered
right into his ear.

The two brothers embraced.

"Really, Platon," said the gentleman (whose name was Vassili), "what do
you mean by treating me like this?"

"How so?" said Platon indifferently.

"What? For three days past I have seen and heard nothing of you! A groom
from Pietukh's brought your cob home, and told me you had departed on an
expedition with some barin. At least you might have sent me word as to
your destination and the probable length of your absence. What made you
act so? God knows what I have not been wondering!"

"Does it matter?" rejoined Platon. "I forgot to send you word, and we
have been no further than Constantine's (who, with our sister, sends you
his greeting). By the way, may I introduce Paul Ivanovitch Chichikov?"

The pair shook hands with one another. Then, doffing their caps, they
embraced.

"What sort of man is this Chichikov?" thought Vassili. "As a rule my
brother Platon is not over-nice in his choice of acquaintances." And,
eyeing our hero as narrowly as civility permitted, he saw that his
appearance was that of a perfectly respectable individual.

Chichikov returned Vassili's scrutiny with a similar observance of the
dictates of civility, and perceived that he was shorter than Platon,
that his hair was of a darker shade, and that his features, though less
handsome, contained far more life, animation, and kindliness than did
his brother's. Clearly he indulged in less dreaming,