“No. The master is young and unmarried, because noble gentlemen can never marry young,” said Vanyúsha didactically. “A likely thing! See what a fed-up buffalo he is—and too young to marry! Is he the chief of you all?” she asked. “My master is a cadet; that means he’s not yet an officer, but he’s more important than a general—he’s an important man! Because not only our colonel, but the Tsar himself, knows him,” proudly explained Vanyúsha. “We are not like those other beggars in the line regiment, and our papa himself was a Senator. He had more than a thousand serfs, all his own, and they send us a thousand rubles at a time. That’s why everyone likes us. Another may be a captain but have no money. What’s the use of that?” “Go away. I’ll lock up,” said the girl, interrupting him. Vanyúsha brought Olénin the wine and announced that “_La fille c’est tres joulie_,” and, laughing stupidly, at once went out. Chapter XIII Meanwhile the tattoo had sounded in the village square. The people had returned from their work. The herd lowed as in clouds of golden dust it crowded at the village gate. The girls and the women hurried through the streets and yards, turning in their cattle. The sun had quite hidden itself behind the distant snowy peaks. One pale bluish shadow spread over land and sky. Above the darkened gardens stars just discernible were kindling, and the sounds were gradually hushed in the village. The cattle having been attended to and left for the night, the women came out and gathered at the corners of the streets and, cracking sunflower seeds with their teeth, settled down on the earthen embankments of the houses. Later on Maryánka, having finished milking the buffalo and the other two cows, also joined one of these groups. The group consisted of several women and girls and one old Cossack man. They were talking about the _abrek_ who had been killed. The Cossack was narrating and the women questioning him. “I expect he’ll get a handsome reward,” said one of the women. “Of course. It’s said that they’ll send him a cross.” “Mósev did try to wrong him. Took the gun away from him, but the authorities at Kizlyár heard of it.” “A mean creature that Mósev is!” “They say Lukáshka has come home,” remarked one of the girls. “He and Nazárka are merry-making at Yámka’s.” (Yámka was an unmarried, disreputable Cossack woman who kept an illicit pot-house.) “I heard say they had drunk half a pailful.” “What luck that Snatcher has,” somebody remarked. “A real snatcher. But there’s no denying he’s a fine lad, smart enough for anything, a right-minded lad! His father was just such another. Daddy Kiryák was: he takes after his father. When he was killed the whole village howled. Look, there they are,” added the speaker, pointing to the Cossacks who were coming down the street towards them. “And Ergushóv has managed to come along with them too! The drunkard!”