“How strange! Yet he does not go in for such things now, does he?”

“No; he was warned not to do so. I might quote other curious instances. For example, one day a young sub-lieutenant, the only scion and hope of a great family, was making fun of Murin. ‘What are you laughing at?’ said the old man angrily. ‘Do you not know what, in three days’ time, you will have become?’ Crossing his hands on his breast, he signified to the lieutenant that he would have become a corpse.”

“Indeed?”

“Yes. And though I hardly know whether to credit it or not, I have been told that the prediction was fulfilled. Yes, he has a gift of some sort, has that Murin. I can see you smiling. Well, of course you are much cleverer than I am, yet I believe in Murin, and am sure that he is no charlatan. Pushkin himself relates a similar occurrence.”

“Hm! I do not wish to contradict you. . . . You say that he lives alone?”

“Oh, I do not actually know. In fact, I—er—believe that he has a daughter there.”

“A daughter?”

“Yes; or, maybe, a wife. At all events there lives a woman of some sort in his tenement. I have spoken to her, but took little notice of her at the time.”

“Hm! That is strange.”

Ordynov fell into a reverie, and Yaroslav too became lost in thought. He felt pleased at having met his friend, as well as at having been able to tell him the interesting stories which he had related so well. So he sat contentedly smoking his pipe and contemplating his dear Vassilii Michaelovitch. But suddenly he rose, and assumed a businesslike air.

“What? A whole hour gone?” he cried. “Why, I am forgetting my appointment! My dear, good Vassilii Michaelovitch, though I bless fate once more for this happy meeting, really I must tear myself away. Allow me to come and visit you in your student’s retreat.”

“I beg of you to do so. I shall be most pleased. Also, I will return the compliment whenever I have the time.”

“Then I shall count upon you; and you will be doing me a real service. You cannot think what pleasure you have given me to-day!”

Leaving the café, they encountered Sergiev, who was running to meet them with voluble explanations to the effect that Hospodin Emelienovitch was prepared to wait upon Yaroslav Ilyitch immediately. Presently there arrived also a buggy, drawn by two smart trotters; whereafter, having shaken hands with “one of his best friends” and touched his hat, Yaroslav Ilyitch drove off to keep his appointment. Yet, even while driving away, he twice turned round to salute Ordynov, and to make significant signs to him.

As for the latter, he felt so worn out (as also so morally and physically relieved) that he could scarcely drag himself along, and had much ado to regain his lodgings. At the gate of the courtyard he once more encountered the dvornik, who had been watching the leavetakings of Ordynov with Yaroslav Ilyitch. The Tartar made a sign to the former that he wished to speak to him, but Ordynov walked on without paying him any attention.