"'Has n't my uncle come out?' says I. "'No,' says he, 'I have n't seen him.'... "'Has n't something happened to him, brother?'.... says I... "'Oï!'.... We were both fairly frightened. "'Come, Feodósyeitch,' says I, 'come on,' says I,--'let 's see whether he is n't in the house.' "'Come on,'--says he, 'Vasíly Timofyéitch!' but he himself was as white as clay. "We entered the house... I was about to pass the store-room, but I glanced and the padlock was hanging open on the hasp, and I pushed the door, but the door was fastened inside.... Feodósyeitch immediately ran round, and peeped in at the window. "'Vasíly Timofyéitch!' he cries;--'his legs are hanging, his legs ...' "I ran to the window. And they were his legs, Lukyánitch's legs. And he had hanged himself in the middle of the room.--Well, we sent for the judge.... They took him down from the rope; the rope was tied with twelve knots." "Well, what did the court say?" "What did the court say? Nothing. They pondered and pondered what the cause might be. There was no cause. And so they decided that he must have been out of his mind. His head had been aching of late, he had been complaining very frequently of his head...." I chatted for about half an hour longer with the young fellow, and went away, at last, completely disconcerted. I must confess that I could not look at that rickety house without a secret, superstitious terror.... A month later I quitted my country-seat, and little by little all these horrors, these mysterious encounters, vanished from my mind. II Three years passed. The greater part of that time I spent in Petersburg and abroad; and even when I did run down to my place in the country, it was only for a few days at a time, so that I never chanced to be in Glínnoe or in Mikhaílovskoe on a single occasion. Nowhere had I seen my beauty nor the man. One day, toward the end of the third year, in Moscow, I chanced to meet Madame Shlýkoff and her sister, Pelagéya Badáeff--that same Pelagéya whom I, sinful man that I am, had hitherto regarded as a mythical being--at an evening gathering in the house of one of my acquaintances. Neither of the ladies was any longer young, and both possessed pleasing exteriors; their conversation was characterised by wit and mirth: they had travelled a great deal, and travelled with profit; easy gaiety was observable in their manners. But they and my acquaintance had positively nothing in common. I was presented to them. Madame Shlýkoff and I dropped into conversation (her sister was being entertained by a passing geologist). I informed her that I had the pleasure of being her neighbour in *** county. "Ah! I really do possess a small estate there,"--she remarked,--"near Glínnoe." "Exactly, exactly,"--I returned:--"I know your Mikhaílovskoe. Do you ever go thither?" "I?--Rarely." "Were you there three years ago?" "Stay! I think I was. Yes, I was, that is true." "With your sister, or alone?" She darted a glance at me.