collected her beads and went out.  The candle burnt down and the flame caught the paper in the candlestick.  Yergunov laid his revolver and matches beside him, and put out the candle.  The light before the holy images flickered so much that it hurt his eyes, and patches of light danced on the ceiling, on the floor, and on the cupboard, and among them he had visions of Lyubka, buxom, full-bosomed:  now she was turning round like a top, now she was exhausted and breathless. . . .

“Oh, if the devils would carry off that Merik,” he thought.

The little lamp gave a last flicker, spluttered, and went out.  Someone, it must have been Merik, came into the room and sat down on the bench.  He puffed at his pipe, and for an instant lighted up a dark cheek with a patch on it.  Yergunov’s throat was irritated by the horrible fumes of the tobacco smoke.

“What filthy tobacco you have got—­damnation take it!” said Yergunov.  “It makes me positively sick.”

“I mix my tobacco with the flowers of the oats,” answered Merik after a pause.  “It is better for the chest.”

He smoked, spat, and went out again.  Half an hour passed, and all at once there was the gleam of a light in the passage.  Merik appeared in a coat and cap, then Lyubka with a candle in her hand.

“Do stay, Merik,” said Lyubka in an imploring voice.

“No, Lyuba, don’t keep me.”

“Listen, Merik,” said Lyubka, and her voice grew soft and tender.  “I know you will find mother’s money, and will do for her and for me, and will go to Kuban and love other girls; but God be with you.  I only ask you one thing, sweetheart:  do stay!”

“No, I want some fun . . .” said Merik, fastening his belt.

“But you have nothing to go on. . . .  You came on foot; what are you going on?”

Merik bent down to Lyubka and whispered something in her ear; she looked towards the door and laughed through her tears.

“He is asleep, the puffed-up devil . . .” she said.

Merik embraced her, kissed her vigorously, and went out.  Yergunov thrust his revolver into his pocket, jumped up, and ran after him.

“Get out of the way!” he said to Lyubka, who hurriedly bolted the door of the entry and stood across the threshold.  “Let me pass!  Why are you standing here?”

“What do you want to go out for?”

“To have a look at my horse.”

Lyubka gazed up at him with a sly and caressing look.

“Why look at it?  You had better look at me . . . .” she said, then she bent down and touched with her finger the gilt watch-key that hung on his chain.

“Let me pass, or he will go off on my horse,” said Yergunov.  “Let me go, you devil!” he shouted, and giving her an angry blow on the shoulder, he pressed his chest against her with all his might to push her away from the door, but she kept tight hold of the bolt, and was like iron.

“Let me go!” he shouted, exhausted; “he will go off with it, I tell you.”