"_Ich will_ . . . there's nothing I will, but. . . But do sit down! I shall think of something else in a minute." "It is shocking for a maiden in a man's room to remain. . . . Mr. Vaxin, you are, I see, a naughty man. . . . I understand. . . . To order cigarette-papers one does not a person wake. . . . I understand you. . . ." Rosalia Karlovna turned and went out of the room. Somewhat reassured by his conversation with her and ashamed of his cowardice, Vaxin pulled the bedclothes over his head and shut his eyes. For about ten minutes he felt fairly comfortable, then the same nonsense came creeping back into his mind. . . . He swore to himself, felt for the matches, and without opening his eyes lighted a candle. But even the light was no use. To Vaxin' s excited imagination it seemed as though someone were peeping round the corner and that his uncle's eyes were moving. "I'll ring her up again . . . damn the woman!" he decided. "I'll tell her I'm unwell and ask for some drops." Vaxin rang. There was no response. He rang again, and as though answering his ring, he heard the church-bell toll the hour. Overcome with terror, cold all over, he jumped out of bed, ran headlong out of his bedroom, and making the sign of the cross and cursing himself for his cowardice, he fled barefoot in his night-shirt to the governess's room. "Rosalia Karlovna!" he began in a shaking voice as he knocked at her door, "Rosalia Karlovna! . . . Are you asleep? . . . I feel . . . so . . . er . . . er . . . unwell. . . . Drops! . . ." There was no answer. Silence reigned. "I beg you . . . do you understand? I beg you! Why this squeamishness, I can't understand . . . especially when a man . . . is ill . . . How absurdly _zierlich manierlich_ you are really . . . at your age. . . ." "I to your wife shall tell. . . . Will not leave an honest maiden in peace. . . . When I was at Baron Anzig's, and the baron try to come to me for matches, I understand at once what his matches mean and tell to the baroness. . . . I am an honest maiden." "Hang your honesty! I am ill I tell you . . . and asking you for drops. Do you understand? I'm ill!" "Your wife is an honest, good woman, and you ought her to love! _Ja!_ She is noble! . . . I will not be her foe!" "You are a fool! simply a fool! Do you understand, a fool?" Vaxin leaned against the door-post, folded his arms and waited for his panic to pass off. To return to his room where the lamp flickered and his uncle stared at him from his frame was more than he could face, and to stand at the governess's door in nothing but his night-shirt was inconvenient from every point of view. What could he do? It struck two o'clock and his terror had not left him. There was no light in the passage and something dark seemed to be peeping out from every corner. Vaxin turned so as to face the door-post, but at that instant it seemed as though somebody tweaked his night-shirt from behind and touched him on the shoulder.