and her foal were wandering in front of the house among the rosebushes. The shutters were all closed, except at one window which was open. A little serf boy, seeing Prince Andréy, ran into the house. Alpátych, having sent his family away, was alone at Bald Hills and was sitting indoors reading the Lives of the Saints . On hearing that Prince Andréy had come, he went out with his spectacles on his nose, buttoning his coat, and, hastily stepping up, without a word began weeping and kissing Prince Andréy’s knee.
Then, vexed at his own weakness, he turned away and began to report on the position of affairs.
Everything precious and valuable had been removed to Boguchárovo. Seventy quarters of grain had also been carted away. The hay and the spring corn, of which Alpátych said there had been a remarkable crop that year, had been commandeered by the troops and mown down while still green. The peasants were ruined; some of them too had gone to Boguchárovo, only a few remained.
Without waiting to hear him out, Prince Andréy asked:
“When did my father and sister leave?” meaning when did they leave for Moscow.
Alpátych, understanding the question to refer to their departure for Boguchárovo, replied that they had left on the seventh and again went into details concerning the estate management, asking for instructions.
“Am I to let the troops have the oats, and to take a receipt for them? We have still six hundred quarters left,” he inquired.
“What am I to say to him?” thought Prince Andréy, looking down on the old man’s bald head shining in the sun and seeing by the expression on his face that the old man