Looking ahead over his shoulders, I caught sight of a landau, drawn by a troika, and a wicker char-a-banc with a pair of horses. The horses' heads were turned towards us, and several people were standing near them; one, a tall Russian functionary with a red moustache, and wearing a cap with a scarlet band, the badge of Russian nobility. The other man wore a long fur coat. "That's our district judge, Soutchoff, and the miller Mamaieff," muttered Isaiah, in a tone that denoted respect. Then, addressing the pony, he shouted, "Whoa, my benefactor!" Then, pushing his hat to the back of his head, he turned to the fat coachman standing near the troika, and remarked, "We are too late, it seems; eh?" The coachman glanced with a sulky look at Isaiah's egg-shaped head, and turned away without deigning to reply. "Yes, you are behindhand," said the miller, with a smile. He was a short, thick-set man, with a very red face and cunning, smiling eyes. The district judge scanned us from under his full eyebrows, as he leant against the foot-board of his carriage, smoked a cigarette, and twisted his moustache. There were two other people in the group--Mamaieff's coachman, a tall fellow with a curly head, and a miserable bandy-legged peasant in a torn sheepskin overcoat swathed tightly round him. His figure seemed bent into the chronic position of a low bow, which at the present moment was evidently meant for us. His small, shrunk face was covered with a scanty grey beard, his eyes were almost hidden in his wrinkled countenance, and his thin blue lips were drawn into a smile, expressive at one and the same time of respect and of derision, of stupidity and of cunning. He was sitting in an ape-like attitude, with his legs drawn up under his body; and, as he turned his head from side to side, he followed each one of us closely with his glance, without showing his own eyes. Through the many holes of his ragged sheepskin bunches of wool protruded, and he produced altogether a singular impression--an impression of having been half masticated before escaping from the iron jaws of some monster, who had meant to swallow him up. The high sandy bank behind which we were standing sheltered us from the blasts of wind, though it concealed the river from our view. "I am going to see how matters stand yonder," said Isaiah, as he started climbing up the bank.