rest.”
“What will our peasants say now?” said one stout, cross-looking, pockmarked gentleman, a landowner of the neighborhood, approaching a group of gentlemen engaged in conversation.
“But they are not all peasants. There are four government clerks among them.”
“Yes, there are clerks,” said a member of the district council, joining the group.
“And do you know that Nazaryev, the merchant with the medal, a juryman?”
“What of him?”
“He is a man with brains.”
“But he never speaks.”
“He is no great talker, but so much the better. There’s no need for the Petersburg man to teach him: he could teach all Petersburg himself. He’s the father of twelve children. Think of that!”
“Upon my word, you don’t suppose they won’t acquit him?” one of our young officials exclaimed in another group.
“They’ll acquit him for certain,” said a resolute voice.
“It would be shameful, disgraceful, not to acquit him!” cried the official. > “Suppose he did murder him—there are