Varvara decided to steal the letter, though this was difficult. Grushina urged her to hurry. There was one hope--to take the letter from Peredonov when he was drunk. And he drank a great deal now. He had even not infrequently appeared at the _gymnasia_ in a rather tipsy state and had made unpleasant remarks which had aroused repugnance in even the worst of the boys. * * * * * Once Peredonov returned from the billiard saloon more drunk than usual: they had baptised the new billiard balls. But he never let go of his wallet. As he managed to undress somehow, he stuck it under his pillow. He slept restlessly but profoundly, and during his sleep his mind wandered and he babbled about something terrible and monstrous. And these words inspired Varvara with a painful apprehension. "Well, it's nothing," she encouraged herself. "So long as he doesn't wake up." She had tried to waken him. She nudged him--he only muttered something and cursed violently, but did not awaken. Varvara lit a candle and placed it so that the light should not fall into Peredonov's eyes. Numb with terror, she rose in the bed and slipped her hand under Peredonov's pillow. The wallet was quite close but for a long time it seemed to elude her fingers. The candle burned dimly. Its light wavered. Timorous shadows ran on the walls and on the bed--evil little devils flashed by. The air was close and motionless. There was a smell of badly-distilled vodka. Peredonov's snores and drunken ravings filled the bedroom. The whole place was like the incarnation of a nightmare. Varvara took the letter with trembling hands and replaced the wallet. In the morning Peredonov looked for his letter, failed to find it, and shouted in a fright: "Where's the letter, Varya?" Varvara felt very much afraid but concealed it and said: "How should I know, Ardalyon Borisitch? You keep showing it to everyone, you must have dropped it. Or else someone has stolen it from you. You have a lot of friends and acquaintances that you get drunk with at night." Peredonov thought that the letter had been stolen by his enemies, most likely by Volodin. The letter was now in Volodin's hands and later he would get the other papers and the appointment into his clutches, and he would go away to his inspectorship while Peredonov remained a disappointed beggar. * * * * * Peredonov decided that he must defend himself. Every day he wrote denunciations of his enemies: Vershina, the Routilovs, Volodin, his colleagues, who, it seemed to him, had their eye on the same position. In the evening he would take these denunciations to Roubovsky. The Officer of the gendarmerie lived in a prominent place on the square near the _gymnasia._ Many people observed from their windows how often Peredonov entered the gates of the Officer of the gendarmerie.