s himself suffering from. Soon after greeting one
another, Markelov began talking again of last night's "problems" (more
briefly this time), about the impending revolution, the weary expression
never once leaving his face. He was smothered in perspiration and dust,
his voice was hoarse, and his clothes were covered all over with bits of
wood shavings and pieces of green moss. The labourers stood by
silently, half afraid and half amused. Nejdanov glanced at Markelov, and
Ostrodumov's remark, "What is the good of it all? All the same, it will
have to be altered afterwards," flashed across his mind. One of the men,
who had been fined for some offence, began begging Markelov to let him
off. The latter got angry, shouted furiously, but forgave him in the
end. "All the same, it will have to be altered afterwards."

Nejdanov asked him for horses and a conveyance to take him home.
Markelov seemed surprised at the request, but promised to have
everything ready in good time. They turned back to the house together,
Markelov staggering as he walked.

"What is the matter with you?" Nejdanov asked.

"I am simply worn out!" Markelov began furiously. "No matter what you
do, you simply can't make these people understand anything! They are
utterly incapable of carrying out an order, and do not even understand
plain Russian. If you talk of 'part', they know what that means
well enough, but the word 'participation' is utterly beyond their
comprehension, just as if it did not belong to the Russian language.
They've taken it into their heads that I want to give them a part of the
land!"

Markelov had tried to explain to the peasants the principles of
cooperation with a view to introducing it on his estate, but they were
completely opposed to it. "The pit was deep enough before, but now
there's no seeing the bottom of it," one of them remarked, and all the
others gave forth a sympathetic sigh, quite crushing poor Markelov. He
dismissed the men and went into the house to see about a conveyance and
lunch.

The whole of Markelov's household consisted of a man servant, a cook,
a coachman, and a very old man with hairy ears, in a long-skirted linen
coat, who had once been his grandfather's valet. This old man was for
ever gazing at Markelov with a most woe-begone expression on his face.
He was too old to do anything, but was always present, huddled together
by the door.

After a lunch of hard-boiled eggs, anchovies, and cold hash (the
man