The gate opened a few more inches, and Ilya needed no greater hint, but slipped through, and the gate closed after him. “You smell like a _kabak_,” grumbled Wassili. “That is why you opened the gate,” said Ilya with a chuckle. “You have a nose for vodka, even if you are not civil to your friends.” “But you will be seen by enemies, to come here so boldly,” went on Wassili, not so easily altered in his temper. “I? No one saw me. I am as secret as an owl. Those fools of soldiers are all drunk and talking in their sleep. They shoot their guns at the moon every night, to scare honest folk away.” “What brings you?” demanded Wassili. “Am I to stand here freezing because you want to gossip?” “I came to talk with Michael Alexandrovitch,” said Ilya with pomposity. He swayed unsteadily on his feet, for the vodka he had drunk was again asserting its potency because he had been standing still so long outside the gate. He blew gently down into his whiskers to melt away the ice which had formed in the bristles from his breath. “Hmf!” growled Wassili. “Perhaps you think Michael Alexandrovitch has baked a pig for your coming? Have you forgotten that Michael Alexandrovitch is an Excellence?” “I am as good as he, Excellence or no Excellence,” retorted Ilya. “What I remember is the revolution, and that Ilya Andreitch is as good as the Czar. But I have brought news for the Excellence. Are we to stand here warming the night with our breaths, when Michael Alexandrovitch would be glad to know what I know?” “He could salt his porridge with what you know,” scorned Wassili. “What news do you bring?” He was still doubtful of the legitimacy of Ilya’s visit, and suspected his coming to be a desire for drunken argument. “When a man brings news in these times, he might have a glass of hot tea,” hinted Ilya. “It is about government, and I have come with big news about what is being done outside this place.” “You have brought a monkey with you, that is what,” muttered Wassili, meaning that Ilya was foolishly drunk. But he fastened the bolt of the gate. He was now shivering with the cold and sulky about it, though he did not dare risk sending Ilya away if there was any chance of valuable information’s coming to the attention of his master, Kirsakoff. “Whoosh! Is not a monkey smarter than a fox? You old pothead, you sit here all day looking at your feet, while I learn government news and risk my neck to bring it here and——” “Be still!” commanded Wassili. “You can be heard to the hills a night like this! You smell of fresh-killed pig and vodka, for all your government talk. Is that the way to come to the house of Excellence? Follow along with that noisy tongue of yours, but keep your fingers on it, for it wags too freely and you will lose it along with your head, if you are not careful.” “Yes, and I’ll bring a drink of vodka along for you, if you have a fire in your samovar, you old spider.”