'Ah! he's come for the money! for the money!' he cried as hoarsely as though he were being strangled himself instead of strangling the Jew; 'you stole him by night, and are come by day for the money, eh? Eh? Eh?' 'Mercy on us, your ex-shelency,' the Jew tried to groan out. 'Tell me, where's my horse? What have you done with him? Whom have you sold him to? Tell me, tell me, tell me!' The Jew by now could not even groan; his face was rapidly turning livid, and even the expression of fear had vanished from it. His hands dropped and hung lifeless, his whole body, furiously shaken by Tchertop-hanov, waved backwards and forwards like a reed. 'I'll pay you your money, I'll pay it you in full to the last farthing,' roared Tchertop-hanov, 'but I'll strangle you like any chicken if you don't tell me at once!'... 'But you have strangled him already, master,' observed the groom Perfishka humbly. Then only Tchertop-hanov came to his senses. He let go of the Jew's neck; the latter fell heavily to the ground. Tchertop-hanov picked him up, sat him on a bench, poured a glass of vodka down his throat, and restored him to consciousness. And having restored him to consciousness, he began to talk to him. It turned out that the Jew had not the slightest idea that Malek-Adel had been stolen. And, indeed, what motive could he have to steal the horse which he had himself procured for his 'revered Panteley Eremyitch.' Then Tchertop-hanov led him into the stable. Together they scrutinised the horse-boxes, the manger, and the lock on the door, turned over the hay and the straw, and then went into the courtyard. Tchertop-hanov showed the Jew the hoofprints at the fence, and all at once he slapped his thighs. 'Stay!' he cried. 'Where did you buy the horse?' 'In the district of Maloarchangel, at Verhosensky Fair,' answered the Jew. 'Of whom?' 'A Cossack.' Stay! This Cossack; was he a young man or old?' 'Middle-aged--a steady man.' 'And what was he like? What did he look like? A cunning rascal, I expect?' 'Sure to have been a rascal, your ex-shelency.' 'And, I say, what did he say, this rascal?--had he had the horse long?' 'I recollect he said he'd had it a long while.' 'Well, then, no one could have stolen him but he! Consider it yourself, listen, stand here!... What's your name?' The Jew started and turned his little black eyes upon Tchertop-hanov. 'What's my name?' 'Yes, yes; what are you called?' 'Moshel Leyba.' 'Well, judge then, Moshel Leyba, my friend--you're a man of sense--whom would Malek-Adel have allowed to touch him except his old master? You see he must have saddled him and bridled him and taken off his cloth--there it is lying on the hay!... and made all his arrangements simply as if he were at home! Why, anyone except his master, Malek-Adel would have trampled under foot! He'd have raised such a din, he'd have roused the whole village? Do you agree with me?' 'I agree, I agree, your ex-shelency.'...