ings which even the finest intellect could not compass.

"But allow me to put to you a question," he went on in a tone in which
there was a strange--or, at all events, RATHER a strange--note. For some
unknown reason, also, he glanced over his shoulder. For some equally
unknown reason, Manilov glanced over HIS.

"How long is it," inquired the guest, "since you last rendered a census
return?"

"Oh, a long, long time. In fact, I cannot remember when it was."

"And since then have many of your serfs died?"

"I do not know. To ascertain that I should need to ask my bailiff.
Footman, go and call the bailiff. I think he will be at home to-day."

Before long the bailiff made his appearance. He was a man of under
forty, clean-shaven, clad in a smock, and evidently used to a quiet
life, seeing that his face was of that puffy fullness, and the skin
encircling his slit-like eyes was of that sallow tint, which shows that
the owner of those features is well acquainted with a feather bed. In a
trice it could be seen that he had played his part in life as all such
bailiffs do--that, originally a young serf of elementary education, he
had married some Agashka of a housekeeper or a mistress's favourite, and
then himself become housekeeper, and, subsequently, bailiff; after which
he had proceeded according to the rules of his tribe--that is to say,
he had consorted with and stood in with the more well-to-do serfs on the
estate, and added the poorer ones to the list of forced payers of obrok,
while himself leaving his bed at nine o'clock in the morning, and, when
the samovar had been brought, drinking his tea at leisure.

"Look here, my good man," said Manilov. "How many of our serfs have died
since the last census revision?"

"How many of them have died? Why, a great many." The bailiff hiccoughed,
and slapped his mouth lightly after doing so.

"Yes, I imagined that to be the case," corroborated Manilov. "In fact,
a VERY great many serfs have died." He turned to Chichikov and repeated
the words.

"How many, for instance?" asked Chichikov.

"Yes; how many?" re-echoed Manilov.

"HOW many?" re-echoed the bailiff. "Well, no one knows the exact number,
for no one has kept any account."

"Quite so," remarked Manilov. "I supposed the death-rate to have been
high, but was ignorant of its precise extent."

"Then would you be so good as to have it computed for me?" said
Chichikov. "And also to have a detailed list of the deaths made