But the ‘Russian scoundrels’ paid no attention to his vociferations, and hurried on as fast as they could to the castle. They were all silent, as they walked through the garden, though Anna Vassilyevna sighed a little. But when they reached the carriages and stood still, they broke into an irrepressible, irresistible fit of Homeric laughter. First Shubin exploded, shrieking as if he were mad, Bersenyev followed with his gurgling guffaw, then Zoya fell into thin tinkling little trills, Anna Vassilyevna too suddenly broke down, Elena could not help smiling, and even Insarov at last could not resist it. But the loudest, longest, most persistent laugh was Uvar Ivanovitch’s; he laughed till his sides ached, till he choked and panted. He would calm down a little, then would murmur through his tears: ‘I--thought--what’s that splash--and there--he--went plop.’ And with the last word, forced out with convulsive effort, his whole frame was shaking with another burst of laughter. Zoya made him worse. ‘I saw his legs,’ she said, ‘kicking in the air.’ ‘Yes, yes,’ gasped Uvar Ivanovitch, ‘his legs, his legs--and then splash!--there he plopped in!’ ‘And how did Mr. Insarov manage it? why the German was three times his size?’ said Zoya. ‘I’ll tell you,’ answered Uvar Ivanovitch, rubbing his eyes, ‘I saw; with one arm about his waist, he tripped him up, and he went plop! I heard--a splash--there he went.’ Long after the carriages had started, long after the castle of Tsaritsino was out of sight, Uvar Ivanovitch was still unable to regain his composure. Shubin, who was again with him in the carriage, began to cry shame on him at last.