The Count seized the landlord by the scruff of his neck and ordered him to dance the Russian dance. The landlord refused. The Count snatched up a bottle of champagne, and having stood the landlord on his head and had him held in that position, amidst general laughter slowly emptied the bottle over him.

It was beginning to dawn. All looked pale and worn except the Count.

“Well, I must be starting for Moscow,” said he, suddenly rising. “Come along, all of you! Come and see me off⁠ ⁠… and we’ll have some tea.”

All agreed except the paterfamilias (who was left behind asleep), and all, crowding into three large sledges that stood at the door, drove off to the hotel.