Bitter, very bitter was it for poor Avdótya to pack up her things. Despite the assistance of the "intelligent" man, who, by the way, knew how to do nothing but stalk about with a staff in his hand, and watch the others, and spit to one side, she did not succeed in moving out that day, and remained to spend the night in the inn, having first requested Fetínya not to leave her room; but it was not until daybreak that she fell into a feverish doze, and the tears streamed down her cheeks even in her sleep. In the meantime, Efrém awoke earlier than was his wont in his lumber-room, and began to thump and demand his release. At first his wife would not let him out, declaring to him through the door that he had not yet had enough sleep; but he excited her curiosity by promising to tell her about the remarkable thing which had happened to Akím; she undid the latch.--Efrém imparted to her everything he knew, and wound up with the question: "Was he awake or not?" "Why, the Lord knows,"--replied his wife;--"go and see for thyself; he has not climbed down from the oven yet.--You both got pretty drunk last night; thou shouldst just see thyself--thy face has no semblance of a face; 't is like some sort of ladle; and what a lot of hay has got into thy hair!" "Never mind if it has,"--returned Efrém,--and passing his hand over his head, he entered the house.--Akím was no longer asleep; he was sitting on the oven with his legs dangling; his face also was very strange and discomposed. It appeared all the more distorted because Akím was not in the habit of drinking heavily. "Well, how now, Akím Semyónitch, how have you slept?"--began Efrém.... Akím looked at him with a turbid gaze. "Come, brother Efrém,"--he said hoarsely,--"can't we do it again--thou knowest what?" Efrém darted a swift glance at Akím .... at that moment he felt a sort of thrill; that is the kind of sensation a sportsman experiences when standing on the skirt of the woods, at the sudden yelping of his hound in the forest, from which, apparently, all the wild beasts have already fled. "What--more?"--he asked at last. "Yes; more." "My wife will see,"--thought Efrém,--"and I don't believe she will allow it."--"All right, it can be done,"--he said aloud;--"have patience."--He went out and, thanks to artfully conceived measures, succeeded in smuggling in a huge bottle unperceived beneath the skirt of his coat.... Akím seized the bottle ... But Efrém did not start to drink with him as on the preceding evening--he was afraid of his wife, and,--having told Akím that he would go and see how things were progressing at his house, and how his belongings were being packed, and whether he were not being robbed,--he immediately set off for the inn astride of his unfed little nag,--not forgetting himself, however, if we may take into consideration his projecting bosom.