"My little sir," the old man replied to me, "I would be only too delighted, but how can I?--I have offered that Topknot[49] huge remuneration. I offered him three hundred rubles, I assure thee on my honour! but in vain. What is one to do? We had acted illegally, on faith, after the ancient fashion ... and now see what a bad thing has come of it! I am sure that Topknot will take Ivan from me by force the first thing we know; he has a strong hand, the Governor eats sour cabbage-soup with him--the Topknot will send a soldier! I'm afraid of those soldiers! In former days, there's no denying it, I would have defended Ivan,--but just look at me now, how decrepit I have grown. How am I to wage war?"--And, in fact, during my last visit I found that Alexyei Sergyeitch had aged very greatly; even the pupils of his eyes had acquired a milky hue--like that in infants--and on his lips there appeared not the discerning smile of former days, but that strainedly-sweet, unconscious smirk which never leaves the faces of very old people even in their sleep. I imparted Alexyei Sergyeitch's decision to Ivan. He stood a while, held his peace, and shook his head.--"Well," he said at last, "what is fated to be cannot be avoided. Only my word is firm. That is to say: only one thing remains for me ... play the wag to the end.--Master, please give me something for liquor!" I gave it; he drank himself drunk--and on that same day he danced "the fish" in such wise that the maidens and married women fairly squealed with delight, so whimsically amusing was he. The next day I went home, and three months later--when I was already in Petersburg--I learned that Ivan had actually kept his word!--He had been sent to his new master; his master had summoned him to his study and announced to him that he was to serve as his coachman, that he entrusted him with a troika of Vyatka horses,[50] and that he should exact a strict account from him if he treated them badly, and, in general, if he were not punctual.--"I'm not fond of jesting," he said.--Ivan listened to his master, first made obeisance to his very feet, and then informed him that it was as his mercy liked, but he could not be his servant.--"Release me on quit-rent, Your High-Born," he said, "or make a soldier of me; otherwise there will be a catastrophe before long." The master flared up.--"Akh, damn thee! What is this thou darest to say to me?--Know, in the first place, that I am 'Your Excellency,' and not 'Your High-Born'; in the second place, thou art beyond the age, and thy size is not such that I can hand thee over as a soldier; and, in conclusion,--what calamity art thou threatening me with? Art thou preparing to commit arson?" "No, your Excellency, not to commit arson." "To kill me, then, pray?" Ivan maintained a stubborn silence.--"I will not be your servant," he said at last.