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‘What does this mean?’ he thundered. Yuditch was silent.

‘You stole the money?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Then some one took the key from you?’

‘I didn’t give the key to any one.’

‘Not to any one? Well then, you are the thief. Confess!’

‘I am not a thief, Ivan Andreevitch.’

‘Where the devil did these potsherds come from then? So you’re deceiving me! For the last time I tell you–confess!’ Yuditch bowed his head and folded his hands behind his back.

‘Hi, lads!’ shrieked Ivan Andreevitch in a voice of frenzy. ‘A stick!’

‘What, beat… me?’ murmured Yuditch.

‘Yes, indeed! Are you any better than the rest? You are a thief! O Yuditch! I never expected such dishonesty of you!’

‘I have grown grey in your service, Ivan Andreevitch,’ Yuditch articulated with effort.

‘What have I to do with your grey hairs? Damn you and your service!’

The servants came in.

‘Take him, do, and give it him thoroughly.’ Ivan Andreevitch’s lips were white and twitching. He walked up and down the room like a wild beast in a small cage.

The servants did not dare to carry out his orders.

‘Why are you standing still, children of Ham? Am I to undertake him myself, eh?’

Yuditch was moving towards the door….

‘Stay!’ screamed Ivan Andreevitch. ‘Yuditch, for the last time I tell you, I beg you, Yuditch, confess!’

‘I can’t!’ moaned Yuditch.

‘Then take him, the sly old fox! Flog him to death! His blood be on my head!’ thundered the infuriated old man. The flogging began…. The door suddenly opened, and Vassily came in. He was almost paler than his father, his hands were shaking, his upper lip was lifted, and laid bare a row of even, white teeth.

‘I am to blame,’ he said in a thick but resolute voice. ‘I took the money.’

The servants stopped.

‘You! what? you, Vaska! without Yuditch’s consent?’

‘No!’ said Yuditch, ‘with my consent. I gave Vassily Ivanovitch the key of my own accord. Your honour, Vassily Ivanovitch! why does your honour trouble?’

‘So this is the thief!’ shrieked Ivan Andreevitch. ‘Thanks, Vassily, thanks! But, Yuditch, I’m not going to forgive you anyway. Why didn’t you tell me all about it directly? Hey, you there! why are you standing still? do you too resist my authority? Ah, I’ll settle things with you, my pretty gentleman!’ he added, turning to Vassily.

The servants were again laying hands on Yuditch….

‘Don’t touch him!’ murmured Vassily through his teeth. The men did not heed him. ‘Back!’ he shrieked and rushed upon them…. They stepped back.

‘Ah! mutiny!’ moaned Ivan Andreevitch, and, raising his stick, he approached his son. Vassily leaped back, snatched at the handle of his sword, and bared it to half its length. Every one was trembling. Anna Pavlovna, attracted by the noise, showed herself at the door, pale and scared.

A terrible change passed over the face of Ivan Andreevitch. He tottered, dropped the stick, and sank heavily into an arm-chair, hiding his face in both hands. No one stirred, all stood rooted to the spot, Vassily like the rest. He clutched the steel sword-handle convulsively, and his eyes glittered with a weary, evil light….

‘Go, all of you… all, out,’ Ivan Andreevitch brought out in a low voice, not taking his hands from his face.

The whole crowd went out. Vassily stood still in the doorway, then suddenly tossed his head, embraced Yuditch, kissed his mother’s hand… and two hours later he had left the place. He went back to Petersburg.

In the evening of the same day Yuditch was sitting on the steps of the house serfs’ hut. The servants were all round him, sympathising with him and bitterly reproaching their young master.

‘That’s enough, lads,’ he said to them at last, ‘give over… why do you abuse him? He himself, the young master, I dare say is not very happy at his audacity….’

In consequence of this incident, Vassily never saw his father again. Ivan Andreevitch died without him, and died probably with such a load of sorrow on his heart as God grant none of us may ever know. Vassily Ivanovitch, meanwhile, went into the world, enjoyed himself in his own way, and squandered money recklessly. How he got hold of the money, I cannot tell for certain. He had obtained a French servant, a very smart and intelligent fellow, Bourcier, by name. This man was passionately attached to him and aided him in all his numerous manoeuvres. I do not intend to relate in detail all the exploits of my grand-uncle; he was possessed of such unbounded daring, such serpent-like resource, such inconceivable wiliness, such a fine and ready wit, that I must own I can understand the complete sway that unprincipled person exercised even over the noblest natures.