The dark Tartar jumped up and bade Jilin sit down, not on the rugs, but on the bare floor. Then he sat down on his rug again, and treated his guests to more pancakes and beer. The servant made Jilin sit down in the place assigned to him, took off his overshoes, which he placed by the door where the other shoes were standing, and sat down on the felt carpet, nearer to his master. He watched the others eating, his mouth watering. When the Tartars had finished, a woman came in dressed like the girl in trousers and a kerchief on her head. She cleared away the remains, and brought a basin and a narrow-necked jug of water. The Tartars washed their hands, laid them together, fell on their knees and said their prayers in their own tongue. When they had finished one of the guests turned to Jilin and addressed him in Russian. “You were captured by Kasi-Mohammed,” he said, indicating the red-bearded Tartar, “but he has given you to Abdul-Murat.” And he indicated the dark Tartar. “Abdul-Murat is now your master.” Jilin was silent. Abdul-Murat now began to speak, pointing at Jilin and laughing. “A soldier Russ, a good Russ,” he said. And the interpreter said, “He wants you to write home asking your people to send a ransom for you. When the money comes, he will let you go.” Jilin reflected and said, “How much does he want?” The Tartars deliberated among themselves; the interpreter said, “Three thousand roubles.” “I can’t pay as much as that,” Jilin said. Abdul leapt up and began to gesticulate violently. He was saying something to Jilin, thinking that he would understand. “How much will you give?” the interpreter asked. After reflection Jilin said, “Five hundred roubles.” At this the Tartars all began talking together. Abdul shouted at the red-bearded Tartar, jabbering away till he foamed at the mouth. The red-bearded Tartar merely frowned and clacked his tongue. They grew silent and the interpreter said, “The master thinks a ransom of five hundred roubles is not enough. He himself paid two hundred roubles for you. Kasi-Mohammed was in his debt, and he took you in payment. He wants three thousand roubles and refuses to let you go for less. If you won’t pay the money you’ll be flung into a pit and flogged.” “The more you show you’re afraid of them, the worse it is,” Jilin thought. He leapt to his feet and said, “Tell the dog that if he begins to threaten me, he shan’t have a farthing! I won’t write home at all! I was never afraid of you, and I’m not going to be now, you dogs!” The interpreter conveyed his words, and again the Tartars began to speak all at once. They jabbered for a long time, then the dark one sprang up and came to Jilin. “Russ,” he said, “_djigit, djigit_ Russ!” (Djigit in their tongue means brave.) He laughed and said a few words to the interpreter, who turned to Jilin. “Will you give a thousand roubles?” Jilin stuck to his own. “I won’t give more than five hundred, not if you kill me.”