On the fourth day he became perfectly silent; he sat in a corner most of the time, with dejectedly drooping head; and by his downcast aspect evoked a feeling of compassion in the two ladies, who now, in their turn, tried to divert him. At table he ate nothing, stared at his plate, and rolled bread-balls. On the fifth day the feeling of pity in the ladies began to be replaced by another--by distrust and even fear. Misha had grown wild, he avoided people and kept walking along the wall, as though creeping stealthily, and suddenly darting glances around him, as though some one had called him. And what had become of his rosy complexion? It seemed to be covered with earth. "Art thou still ill?" I asked him. "No; I am well," he answered abruptly. "Art thou bored?" "Why should I be bored?"--But he turned away and would not look me in the eye. "Or hast thou grown melancholy again?"--To this he made no reply. On the following day my aunt ran into my study in a state of great excitement, and declared that she and her niece would leave my house if Misha were to remain in it. "Why so?" "Why, we feel afraid of him.... He is not a man,--he is a wolf, a regular wolf. He stalks and stalks about, saying never a word, and has such a wild look.... He all but gnashes his teeth. My Katya is such a nervous girl, as thou knowest.... She took a great interest in him the first day.... I am afraid for her and for myself...." I did not know what reply to make to my aunt. But I could not expel Misha, whom I had invited in. He himself extricated me from this dilemma. That very day--before I had even left my study--I suddenly heard a dull and vicious voice behind me. "Nikolai Nikolaitch, hey there, Nikolai Nikolaitch!" I looked round. In the doorway stood Misha, with a terrible, lowering, distorted visage. "Nikolai Nikolaitch," he repeated ... (it was no longer "dear uncle"). "What dost thou want?" "Let me go ... this very moment!" "What?" "Let me go, or I shall commit a crime,--set the house on fire or cut some one's throat."--Misha suddenly fell to shaking.--"Order them to restore my garments, and give me a cart to carry me to the highway, and give me a trifling sum of money!" "But art thou dissatisfied with anything?" I began. "I cannot live thus!" he roared at the top of his voice.--"I cannot live in your lordly, thrice-damned house! I hate, I am ashamed to live so tranquilly!... How do _you_ manage to endure it?!" "In other words," I interposed, "thou wishest to say that thou canst not live without liquor...." "Well, yes! well, yes!" he yelled again.--"Only let me go to my brethren, to my friends, to the beggars!... Away from your noble, decorous, repulsive race!"