shoulder--pointing it again, shrieking, weeping.… On seeing Souvenir and me he simply flew to us. ‘Look, look, what is going on here!’ he wailed--‘look! He’s gone out of his mind, he’s raving mad … and see what he’s doing! I’ve sent for the police already--but no one comes! No one comes! If I do fire at him, the law couldn’t touch me, for every man has a right to defend his own property! And I will fire!… By God, I’ll fire!’ He ran off toward the house. ‘Martin Petrovitch, look out! If you don’t get down, I’ll fire!’ ‘Fire away!’ came a husky voice from the roof. ‘Fire away! And meanwhile here’s a little present for you!’ A long plank flew up, and, turning over twice in the air, came violently to the earth, just at Sletkin’s feet. He positively jumped into the air, while Harlov chuckled. ‘Merciful Jesus!’ faltered some one behind me. I looked round: Souvenir. ‘Ah!’ I thought, ‘he’s left off laughing now!’ Sletkin clutched a peasant, who was standing near, by the collar. ‘Climb up now, climb up, climb up, all of you, you devils,’ he wailed, shaking the man with all his force, ‘save my property!’ The peasant took a couple of steps forward, threw his head back, waved his arms, shouted--‘hi! here! master!’ shifted from one foot to the other uneasily, and then turned back. ‘A ladder! bring a ladder!’ Sletkin addressed the other peasants. ‘Where are we to get it?’ was heard in answer. ‘And if we had a ladder,’ one voice pronounced deliberately, ‘who’d care to climb up? Not such fools! He’d wring your neck for you--in a twinkling!’ ‘He’d kill one in no time,’ said one young lad with flaxen hair and a half-idiotic face. ‘To be sure he would,’ the others confirmed. It struck me that, even if there had been no obvious danger, the peasants would yet have been loath to carry out their new owner’s orders. They almost approved of Harlov, though they were amazed at him. ‘Ugh, you robbers!’ moaned Sletkin; ‘you shall all catch it.…’ But at this moment, with a heavy rumble, the last chimney came crashing down, and, in the midst of the cloud of yellow dust that flew up instantly, Harlov--uttering a piercing shriek and lifting his bleeding hands high in the air--turned facing us. Sletkin pointed the gun at him again. Evlampia pulled him back by the elbow. ‘Don’t interfere!’ he snarled savagely at her. ‘And you--don’t you dare!’ she answered; and her blue eyes flashed menacingly under her scowling brows. ‘Father’s pulling his house down. It’s his own.’ ‘You lie: it’s ours!’ ‘You say ours; but I say it’s his.’ Sletkin hissed with fury; Evlampia’s eyes seemed stabbing him in the face. ‘Ah, how d’ye do! my delightful daughter!’ Harlov thundered from above. ‘How d’ye do! Evlampia Martinovna! How are you getting on with your sweetheart? Are your kisses sweet, and your fondling?’ ‘Father!’ rang out Evlampia’s musical voice.