“I went another journey with a merchant, too,⁠ ⁠…” Panteley went on again, speaking as before in a low voice and with fixed unblinking eyes. “His name, as I remember now, was Pyotr Grigoritch. He was a nice man,⁠ ⁠… the merchant was. We stopped in the same way at an inn.⁠ ⁠… He indoors and me with the horses.⁠ ⁠… The people of the house, the innkeeper and his wife, seemed friendly good sort of people; the labourers, too, seemed all right; but yet, lads, I couldn’t sleep. I had a queer feeling in my heart,⁠ ⁠… a queer feeling, that was just it. The gates were open and there were plenty of people about, and yet I felt afraid and not myself. Everyone had been asleep long ago. It was the middle of the night; it would soon be time to get up, and I was lying alone in my chaise and could not close my eyes, as though I were some owl. And then, lads, I heard this sound, ‘Toop! toop! toop!’ Someone was creeping up to the chaise. I poke my head out, and there was a peasant woman in nothing but her shift and with her feet bare.⁠ ⁠… ‘What do you want, good woman?’ I asked. And she was all of a tremble; her face was terror-stricken⁠ ⁠… ‘Get up, good man,’ said she; ‘the people are plotting evil.⁠ ⁠… They mean to kill your merchant.

With my own ears I heard the master whispering with his wife.⁠ ⁠…’ So it was not for nothing, the foreboding of my heart! ‘And who are you?’ I asked. ‘I am their cook,’ she said.⁠ ⁠… Right!⁠ ⁠… So I got out of the chaise and went to the merchant. I waked him up and said: ‘Things aren’t quite right, Pyotr Grigoritch.⁠ ⁠… Make haste and rouse yourself from sleep, your worship, and dress now while there is still time,’ I said; ‘and to save our skins, let us get away from trouble.’ He had no sooner begun dressing when the door opened and, mercy on us! I saw, Holy Mother! the innkeeper and his wife come into the room with three labourers.⁠ ⁠… So they had persuaded the labourers to join them. ‘The merchant has a lot of money, and we’ll go shares,’ they told them. Every one of the five had a long knife in their hand each a knife. The innkeeper locked the door and said: ‘Say your prayers, travellers,⁠ ⁠… and if you begin screaming,’ they said, ‘we won’t let you say your prayers before you die.⁠ ⁠…’ As though we could scream! I had such a lump in my throat I could not cry out.⁠ ⁠… The merchant wept and said: ‘Good Christian people! you have resolved to kill me because my money tempts you. Well, so be it; I shall not be the first nor shall I be the last. Many of us merchants have been murdered at inns.