for living honestly. It’s very well for him to talk!” (He was thinking of Resoún.)
Egór Miháylovitch rubbed his face with his hand and yawned. He was evidently tired of the subject; besides, he was ready for his tea.
“Eh, old fellow! Don’t you be mean!” said he. “Have a hunt in the cellar; I dare say you’ll turn up some four hundred old rouble notes, and I’ll get you a substitute—a regular wonder! … The other day a fellow came offering himself.”
“In the government ?” asked Doútlof, meaning the town.
“Well, will you buy him?”
“I’d be glad enough, God’s my witness! … but …”
Egór Miháylovitch sternly interrupted him.
“Well, then, listen to me, old man! See that Elijah does himself no injury, and as soon as I send word—whenever that may be—he is to be taken to town at once. You will take him, and you will be answerable for him; but if—which God forbid!—anything should happen to him, I’ll send your eldest son instead! Do you hear?”
“But could not one be sent from a two-man family? … Egór Miháylovitch, this is an affront!” he said. Then, after a pause, he went on, almost with tears:
“It seems that my brother died a soldier, and now they are taking my boy! How have I deserved such a blow?” and he was ready to fall on his knees.
“Well, well, go away!” said Egór Miháylovitch. “Nothing can be done. It’s the law. Keep an eye on Elijah: you’ll have to answer for him!”