Dead Souls

He got Nozdryov off his hands as quickly as he could, summoned Selifan at once, and told him to be ready at daybreak, so that the next day at six o'clock in the morning they could leave town without fail, and that everything should be looked over, the britzka greased, and so on and so forth. Selifan said, "Right, Pavel Ivanovich!" and nevertheless stood for some time by the door, not moving from the spot. The master at once told Petrushka to pull the trunk, already quite covered with dust, from under the bed, and together with him began to pack, without much sorting out, stockings, shirts, underwear washed and unwashed, boot trees, a calendar. . . All this was packed haphazardly; he wanted to be ready that evening without fail, so that no delay should occur the next day. Selifan, having stood for some two minutes by the door, finally walked very slowly out of the room. Slowly, as slowly as one could only imagine, he went down the stairs, stamping traces with his wet boots on the worn-down, descending steps, and for a long time he scratched the back of his head with his hand. What did this scratching mean? and what does it generally mean? Was it vexation that now the planned meeting next day with his chum in the unseemly sheepskin coat tied with a belt, somewhere in a pot-house, would not come off, or had some little heartthrob started already in the new place, and he had to abandon the evening standing by the gate and the politic holding of white hands, at the hour when twilight pulls its brim down over the town, a strapping lad in a red shirt is strumming his balalaika before the household servants, and people, having finished work, weave their quiet talk? Or was he simply sorry to leave his already warmed-up place in the servants' kitchen, under a coat, next to the stove, and the cabbage soup with tender town-baked pies, and drag himself out again into the rain and sleet and all the adversities of the road? God knows, there's no guessing. Many and various among the Russian people are the meanings of scratching one's head.

Chapter Eleven

Nothing, however, happened the way Chichikov had intended. In the first place, he woke up later than he thought—that was the first unpleasantness. Having gotten up, he sent at once to find out if the britzka was harnessed and everything was ready; but was informed that the britzka was not yet harnessed and nothing was ready. That was the second unpleasantness. He got angry, even prepared himself to give our friend Selifan something like a thrashing, and only waited impatiently to see what reason he, for his part, would give to justify himself. Soon Selifan appeared in the doorway, and the master had the pleasure of hearing the same talk one usually hears from domestics when it is a case of needing to set off quickly.

"But, Pavel Ivanovich, we'll have to shoe the horses."

"Ah, you pig! you fence post! Why didn't you say so before? Didn't you have time enough?"

"Time, yes, I did have . . . And the wheel, too, Pavel Ivanovich, we'll have to put a new tire on it, because the road's bumpy now, such potholes all over . . . And, allow me to say: the front end of the britzka is quite loose, so that we maybe won't even make two stations."

"You scoundrel!" cried Chichikov, clasping his hands, and he came up so close to him that Selifan, for fear the master might make him a little gift, backed off a bit and stepped aside. "So you're going to kill me, eh? want to put a knife in me? knife me on the high road, you robber, you cursed pig, you sea monster! eh? eh? Sat here for three weeks, eh? If you'd only made a peep, you wastrel—and now you've pushed it right up to the final hour! when everything's almost set—just get in and go, eh? and it's here that you muck it up, eh? eh? Didn't you know before? didn't you, eh? eh? Answer! Didn't you know?"

"I knew," Selifan replied, hanging his head.

"Then why didn't you say so, eh?"

To this question Selifan made no reply, but, hanging his head, seemed to be saying to himself: "You see what a tricky thing it is: I knew, and I just didn't say!"

"So, now go and fetch the blacksmith, and see that everything's done in two hours. Do you hear? in two hours without fail, and if it's not, I'll. . . I'll bend you double and tie you in a knot!" Our hero was very angry.

Selifan made as if to turn for the door, to go and carry out the order, but stopped and said:

"Another thing, sir, the dapple-gray horse, he really ought to be sold, because he's a downright scoundrel, Pavel Ivanovich; he's that kind of horse, God help us, nothing but a hindrance."

"Oh, yes! I'll just up and run to the market to sell him!"

"By God, Pavel Ivanovich, not but he looks right enough, only in fact he's a sly horse, such a horse as never ..."