“‘Don’t, Emelian, don’t. Well, let us say you committed a sin; well, it is all over! The devil take it all! Let us live as before--as if nothing had happened!’ “‘You, Astafi Ivanich, you are probably hinting about _that_. But I have not taken your breeches.’ “‘Well, just as you please, Emelian!’ “‘No, Astafi Ivanich, evidently I can not live with you longer. You will excuse me, Astafi Ivanich.’ “‘But God be with you, Emelian,’ I said to him; ‘who is it that is offending you or driving you out of the house? Is it I who am doing it?’ “‘No, but it is unseemly for me to misuse your hospitality any longer, Astafi Ivanich; ‘twill be better to go.’ “I saw that he had in truth risen from his place and donned his ragged cloak--he felt offended, the man did, and had gotten it into his head to leave, and--basta. “‘But where are you going, Emelian? Listen to sense: what are you? Where will you go?’ “‘No, it is best so, Astafi Ivanich, do not try to keep me back,’ and he once more broke into tears; ‘let me be, Astafi Ivanich, you are no longer what you used to be.’ “‘Why am I not? I am just the same. But you will perish when left alone--like a foolish little child, Emelian.’ “‘No, Astafi Ivanich. Lately, before you leave the house, you have taken to locking your trunk, and I, Astafi Ivanich, see it and weep.--No, it is better you should let me go, Astafi Ivanich, and forgive me if I have offended you in any way during the time we have lived together.’ “Well, sir! And so he did go away. I waited a day and thought: Oh, he will be back toward evening. But a day passes, then another, and he does not return. On the third--he does not return. I grew frightened, and a terrible sadness gripped at my heart. I stopped eating and drinking, and lay whole nights without closing my eyes. The man had wholly disarmed me! On the fourth day I went to look for him; I looked in all the taverns and pot-houses in the vicinity, and asked if any one had seen him. No, Emelian had wholly disappeared! Maybe he has done away with his miserable existence, I thought. Maybe, when in his cups, he has perished like a dog, somewhere under a fence. I came home half dead with fatigue and despair, and decided to go out the next day again to look for him, cursing myself bitterly for letting the foolish, helpless man go away from me. But at dawn of the fifth day (it was a holiday) I heard the door creak. And whom should I see but Emelian! But in what a state! His face was bluish and his hair was full of mud, as if he had slept in the street; and he had grown thin, the poor fellow had, as thin as a rail. He took off his poor cloak, sat down on my trunk, and began to look at me. Well, sir, I was overjoyed, but at the same time felt a greater sadness than ever pulling at my heart-strings. This is how it was, sir: I felt that if a thing like that had happened to me, that is--I would sooner have perished like a dog, but would not have returned. And Emelian did.