"In the same line, granny. Watermelons and muskmelons and other trifles. But of late he has constantly been asking us, 'What do you think, children, has uncle Pavel much money?' He has had it all figured out for a long time, grandma: the amount of redemption loan, and when the property was mortgaged, and how much debt is paid off. We even saw the paper on which he made the calculations; and guess what, granny, we stole it. We nearly drove him crazy with that slip of paper. He'd put it in a drawer, and we'd match the key and stick it into a holy wafer. Once he went to take a bath, when lo and behold! he saw the paper lying on the bath shelf." "You've a gay life up there." Volodenka returned and became the center of general attention. "I couldn't hear a thing," he announced in a whisper, "the only thing I heard was father mouthing words like 'painless, untarnished, peaceful,' and uncle shouting, 'Get out of here, you Bloodsucker!'" "Didn't you hear anything about the will?" "I think there was something said about it, but I couldn't make it out. Father shut the door entirely too tight, granny. Only a buzzing came through. And then suddenly uncle yelled, 'Get--get out!' Well then I took to my heels and here I am." "If only the orphans were given----" anxiously thought Arina Petrovna. "If father gets his hands on it, granny, he'll not give a thing to anyone," Petenka assured her. "And I have a feeling he's even going to deprive us of the inheritance." "Still, he can't take it to the grave with him, can he?" "No, but he'll think up some scheme. It wasn't for nothing that he had a talk with the priest not long ago. 'How does the idea of building a tower of Babel strike you, Father?' he asked. 'Would one need much money?'" "Well, he just said that perhaps out of curiosity." "No, granny, he has some plan in mind. If it isn't for a tower of Babel, he'll donate the money to the St. Athos monastery; but he'll make sure we don't get any." "Will father get a big estate when uncle dies?" asked Volodya, curiously. "Well, God alone knows which of them will die first." "Father is sure he'll outlive uncle. The other day, just as soon as we reached the boundary of the Dubrovino estate, he took off his cap, crossed himself, and said, 'Thank God we'll be riding again on our own land!"' "He's made arrangements for everything already, granny. He noticed the woods. 'There,' he says, 'if there were a good landlord, that would be a ripping fine forest.' Then he looked at the meadows. 'What a meadow! Just look! Look at all those hay stacks!'" "Yes, indeed, both the woods and the meadows, everything will be yours, my darlings," sighed Arina Petrovna. "Goodness! Wasn't that a squeak on the stairs?" "Hush, granny, hush! That's he--'like a thief in the night,' listening behind the doors." There was a silence, but it proved to be a false alarm. Arina Petrovna sighed and muttered to herself, "Ah, children, children!"