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“I’ve not got your watch.”

“Then how was it that in the eating-house, you …” I began, but David stopped me.

“Vassily Terentyev!” he pronounced in a hollow, threatening voice, “we know for a fact that you have the watch. You are told honourably to give it back and if you don’t …”

Vassily sniggered insolently.

“Then what will you do with me then? Eh?”

“What will we do? We will both fight with you till you beat us or we beat you.”

Vassily laughed.

“Fight? That’s not for a gentleman! To fight with a servant!”

David suddenly caught hold of Vassily’s waistcoat.

“But we are not going to fight you with our fists,” he articulated, grinding his teeth. “Understand that! I’ll give you a knife and take one myself…. And then we shall see who does for which? Alexey!” he began commanding me, “run for my big knife, you know the one with the bone handle–it’s lying on the table and the other’s in my pocket.”

Vassily positively collapsed. David stood holding him by the waistcoat.

“Mercy on us! … Mercy on us, David Yegoritch!” he muttered; tears actually came into his eyes. “What do you mean, what are you saying? Let me go.”

“I won’t let you go. And we shall have no mercy on you! If you get away from us today, we shall begin again to-morrow. Alyoshka, where’s the knife?”

“David Yegoritch,” wailed Vassily, “don’t commit murder…. What are you doing! The watch … I certainly … I was joking. I’ll give it to you this minute. What a thing, to be sure! First you are going to slit Hrisanf Lukitch’s belly, then mine. Let me go, David Yegoritch…. Kindly take the watch. Only don’t tell your papa.”

David let go his hold of Vassily’s waistcoat. I looked into his face: certainly not only Vassily might have been frightened by it. It looked so weary … and cold … and angry….

Vassily dashed into the house and promptly returned with the watch in his hand. He gave it to David without a word and only on going back into the house exclaimed aloud in the doorway:

“Tfoo! here’s a go.”

He still looked panic-stricken. David tossed his head and walked into our room. Again I followed on his heels. “A Suvorov! He’s a regular Suvorov!” I thought to myself. In those days, in 1801, Suvorov was our great national hero.

XVIII

David shut the door after him, put the watch on the table, folded his arms and–oh, wonder!–laughed. Looking at him I laughed, too.

“What a wonderful performance!” he began. “We can’t get rid of this watch anyway. It’s bewitched, really. And why was I so furious about it?”

“Yes, why?” I repeated. “You ought to have let Vassily keep it….”

“Well, no,” interposed David. “That’s nonsense. But what are we to do with it?”

“Yes! what?”

We both stared at the watch and pondered. Adorned with a chain of pale blue beads (the luckless Vassily in his haste had not removed this chain which belonged to him) it was calmly doing its work: ticking somewhat irregularly, it is true, and slowly moving its copper minute hand.

“Shall we bury it again? Or put it in the stove,” I suggested at last. “Or, I tell you what: shouldn’t we take it to Latkin?”

“No,” answered David. “That’s not the thing. I know what: they have set up a committee at the governor’s office and are collecting subscriptions for the benefit of the people of Kasimov. The town has been burnt to ashes with all its churches. And I am told they take anything, not only bread and money, but all sorts of things. Shall we send the watch there?”

“Yes! yes!” I answered. “A splendid idea. But I thought that since your friends are in want….”

“No, no; to the committee; the Latkins will manage without it. To the committee.”

“Well, if it is to be the committee, let it be. Only, I imagine, we must write something to the governor.”

David glanced at me. “Do you think so?”