Misha glanced menacingly at the money-lender. ‘That surprises you? Aren’t you the cause of it all? ... You? ... You? ... Wasn’t it you, Judas, who robbed me, taking advantage of my childishness? Aren’t you flaying the peasants’ skins off their backs? Haven’t you taken from this poor old man his crust of dry bread? Wasn’t it you? ... O God! everywhere nothing but injustice, and oppression, and evil-doing.... Everything must go to ruin then, and me too! I don’t care for life, I don’t care for life in Russia!’ And the spade moved faster than ever in Misha’s hands. ‘Here’s a devil of a business!’ thought the money-lender; ‘he’s positively burying himself alive.’ ‘Mihail Andreevitch,’ he began again: ‘listen. I’ve been behaving badly to you, indeed; they told me falsely of you.’ Misha went on digging. ‘But why be desperate?’ Misha still went on digging, and kept throwing the earth at the money-lender’s feet, as though to say, ‘Here you are, land-grabber.’ ‘Really, you ‘re wrong in this. Won’t you be pleased to come in to have some lunch, and rest a bit?’ Misha raised his head. ‘So that’s it now! And anything to drink?’ The money-lender was delighted. ‘Why, of course ... I should think so.’ ‘You invite Timofay too?’ ‘Well, ... yes, him too.’ Misha pondered. ‘Only, mind ... you made me a beggar, you know.... Don’t think you can get off with one bottle!’ ‘Set your mind at rest ... there shall be all you can want.’ Misha got up and flung down the spade.... ‘Well, Timosha,’ said he to his old nurse; ‘let’s do honour to our host.... Come along.’ ‘Yes, sir,’ answered the old man. And all three started off to the house together. The money-lender knew the man he had to deal with. At the first start Misha, it is true, exacted a promise from him to ‘grant all sorts of immunities’ to the peasants; but an hour later, this same Misha, together with Timofay, both drunk, were dancing a galop in the big apartments, which still seemed pervaded by the God-fearing shade of Andrei Nikolaevitch; and an hour later still, Misha in a dead sleep (he had a very weak head for spirits), laid in a cart with his high cap and dagger, was being driven off to the town, more than twenty miles away, and there was flung under a hedge.... As for Timofay, who could still keep on his legs, and only hiccupped--him, of course, they kicked out of the house; since they couldn’t get at the master, they had to be content with the old servant. VI