'The horse is all right,' repeated Tchertop-hanov with affected indifference, though his heart was beating like a sledge-hammer in his breast. He was a passionate lover of 'horse-flesh,' and knew a good thing when he saw it. 'Only take a look at him, your ex-shelency! Pat him on the neck! yes, yes, he-he-he-he! like this, like this!' Tchertop-hanov, with apparent reluctance, laid his hand on the horse's neck, gave it a pat or two, then passed his fingers from the forelock along the spine, and when he had reached a certain spot above the kidneys, like a connoisseur, he lightly pressed that spot. The horse instantly arched its spine, and looking round suspiciously at Tchertop-hanov with its haughty black eye, snorted and moved its hind legs. The Jew laughed and faintly clapped his hands. 'He knows his master, your ex-shelency, his master!' 'Don't talk nonsense,' Tchertop-hanov interrupted with vexation. 'To buy this horse from you... I haven't the means, and as for presents, I not only wouldn't take them from a Jew; I wouldn't take a present from Almighty God Himself!' 'As though I would presume to offer you a present, mercy upon me!' cried the Jew: 'you buy it, your ex-shelency... and as to the little sum--I can wait for it.' Tchertop-hanov sank into thought. 'What will you take for it?' he muttered at last between his teeth. The Jew shrugged his shoulders. 'What I paid for it myself. Two hundred roubles.' The horse was well worth twice---perhaps even three times that sum. Tchertop-hanov turned away and yawned feverishly. 'And the money... when?' he asked, scowling furiously and not looking at the Jew. 'When your ex-shelency thinks fit.' Tchertop-hanov flung his head back, but did not raise his eyes. 'That's no answer. Speak plainly, son of Herod! Am I to be under an obligation to you, hey?' 'Well, let's say, then,' the Jew hastened to add, 'in six months' time... Do you agree?' Tchertop-hanov made no reply. The Jew tried to get a look at his face. 'Do you agree? You permit him to be led to your stable?' 'The saddle I don't want,' Tchertop-hanov blurted out abruptly. 'Take the saddle--do you hear?' 'To be sure, to be sure, I will take it,' faltered the delighted Jew, shouldering the saddle. 'And the money,' Tchertop-hanov pursued... 'in six months. And not two hundred, but two hundred and fifty. Not a word! Two hundred and fifty, I tell you! to my account.' Tchertop-hanov still could not bring himself to raise his eyes. Never had his pride been so cruelly wounded. 'It's plain, it's a present,' was the thought in his mind; 'he's brought it out of gratitude, the devil!' And he would have liked to kiss the Jew, and he would have liked to beat him. 'Your ex-shelency,' began the Jew, gaining a little courage, and grinning all over his face, 'should, after the Russian fashion, take from hand to hand....'