When he had reached the foot of the incline, Drum of his own accord trotted up the next hill, and Polikéy, who was as anxious as Drum to get home, did not check him. All was well⁠—at any rate, so Polikéy imagined; and he gave himself up to dreams of his mistress’s gratitude, of the five roubles which she would give him, and of the joy of his family. He took off his cap, felt for the envelope, and, smiling, put the cap tighter on his head. The velveteen crown of the cap was very rotten, and just because Akoulína had carefully sewn up the rents in one place, it burst open in another; and the very movement by which Polikéy in the dark had thought to push the envelope with the money deeper under the wadding, tore the cap farther, and pushed out a corner of the envelope through the velveteen crown.