Finally they reached the gates of the enclosure. They looked around. It was very quiet. No one was visible anywhere. Shabalov jumped out of his trap and began to look for the bell. Madame Doulebova said in great irritation: “What do you think of that?” They tried to open the small gate by themselves but were unable. Shabalov cried out: “Open the gate! You devils, demons, sinners!” Madame Doulebova tried to soothe Shabalov, who justified himself: “Forgive me, Zinaida Grigorievna. It is most annoying. If I had come myself I shouldn’t have minded waiting, though even then it would have been discourteous--being, after all, an official. And here the higher authorities have announced their coming, and these people pay absolutely no attention to it.” At last the small gate opened, suddenly and noiselessly. A boy, sunburnt and barefoot, in a white shirt and short white breeches, stood on the threshold. The angry Doulebov said in his thin, shrill voice: “Is this Trirodov’s school?” “Yes,” said the boy. The visitors entered and found themselves in a small glade. Three barefoot girls slowly came to meet them. These were instructresses. Nadezhda Vestchezerova looked with her large dark eyes at Madame Doulebova, who whispered to the Vice-Governor: “Have a look at her. This girl had a scandal in her life, but he’s taken her on.” Doulebova knew every one in town, and she knew especially well those who have had an unpleasant experience of some sort. Presently Trirodov appeared in a white summer suit. He looked with an ironic smile at the gaily dressed party of visitors. The visitors were met with courtesy; but the Headmaster was displeased because no honour was shown them and no special preparations were evident. The instructresses were dressed as simply as always. Doulebov was especially displeased because both the instructresses and their pupils walked about barefoot. The naïveté of the children irritated the visitors. The children looked at the party indifferently. Some of them nodded a greeting, others did not. “Take off your cap!” shouted Shabalov. The boy pulled his cap off and reached it out to Shabalov with the remark: “Here!” Shabalov growled savagely: “Idiot!” Then he turned away. The boy looked at him in astonishment. Doulebov, and even more his wife, were terribly annoyed because they had not put on more clothes for their visitors, not even shoes. The Vice-Governor looked dully and savagely. Everything displeased him at once. Doulebov asked with a frown: “Surely they are not always like that?” “Always, Vladimir Grigorievitch,” replied Trirodov. “They have got used to it.” “But it is indecent!” said Madame Doulebova. “It is the one thing that is decent,” retorted Trirodov. CHAPTER XXXII