"Thou liest! devil's son!" exclaimed Boolba. "Thou art a dog thyself'! How darest thou say that no one respects our creed? It is your heretical creed that nobody respects!" "Eh! my friend!" said the heyduke: "I see what thou art; thou art thyself one of those that I have under my charge. Wait a bit; I'll just call my comrades." Tarass now saw his imprudence; but, stubborn and angry as he felt, he did not think about the manner of correcting it. Happily, Yank el interposed at this juncture. "Most gracious lord! how is it possible that a count can be a Cossack? and were he a Cossack, how could he have procured such a dress, and have such a count's appearance?" "Have done with thy tales!" And already had the heyduke opened his wide mouth in order to give the alarm. "Your kingly majesty, be silent! in God's name be silent!" cried Yankel. "Be silent, and we will pay you as you have never yet thought of being paid: we will give you two golden ducats!" "Hem! two ducats! Two ducats are nothing to me. I give as much as that to my barber for shaving only half my beard. A hundred ducats must thou give me, Jew!" and the heyduke curled his upper mustachios. "And if thou givest them not, I will call at once." "So much as that, indeed?" said the trembling Jew, sorrowfully, untying his leathern purse. He was fortunate in not having more in his purse, and in the heyduke not being able to count beyond a hundred. "Come, my lord, let us be gone quickly. You see what a bad set of men they are here," said Yankel, seeing the heyduke was turning the money over in his hand, as if regretting he had not asked more. "How now? devil's heyduke!" said Boolba. "Thou hast taken the money, and dost not think to let us in? Thou _must_ do it now; if thou hast once received the money, thou canst no longer give us a refusal." "Begone, begone to the devil! or I will at once make thee known, and then, beware! Away with you, I tell you!" "Come, my lord, in Heaven's name come. Woe to them! May they have such dreams as shall make them spit!" urged poor Yankel. Slowly, with drooping head, did Boolba turn back and retrace his steps, with Yankel worrying him with reproaches at the sorrowful recollection of the uselessly spent ducats. "What need had you to answer them? Why not let the dog bark? They are people who cannot remain without scolding! Oh, woe is me! how lucky some men are! A hundred ducats, merely for driving us away! And look at us, we may have our temple-locks torn off, we may have our faces so disfigured that none will look at us, and nobody will give us a hundred ducats! Heavens! merciful Heavens!" But the miscarriage of his design had a much greater influence on Boolba: a devouring flame streamed from his eyes. "Come," said he, suddenly, as if recollecting himself, "let us go to the execution; I will see how they torture him." "What is the use of going, my lord? we cannot help him."