I put back the earth and went into the house.  I felt aggrieved.  Supposing, I thought, David needs the watch to save his future wife or her father from starvation—­for, say what you will, the watch has some value—­ought he not to have come to me and said, “Brother” (in David’s place I should have certainly said “Brother")—­“Brother, I’m in need of money:  you have none, I know, but give me leave to make use of the watch which we both hid beneath the old apple tree.  It’s of no use to any one.  I shall be so grateful to you, brother,” how gladly I should have agreed!  But to act in this secret, treacherous way, to have no confidence in one’s friend—­no passion, no necessity could excuse it.

I repeat it, I was aggrieved.  I began to show a coolness, to sulk; but David was not one to notice anything of that sort and be disturbed by it.  I began to make references to it, but David did not seem to understand them.  I said in his presence, “How contemptible in my eyes is the human being who has a friend, and who comprehends all the significance of that sacred feeling, friendship, and yet is not magnanimous enough to hold himself aloof from slyness!  As if anything could be hidden!” As I said these last words I smiled contemptuously.  But David paid no attention.  At last I asked him directly whether our watch had run long after we buried it, or whether it had stopped at once.  He answered, “How the deuce should I know?  Shall I think the matter over?”

I did not know what to think.  David doubtless had something on his mind, but not the theft of the watch.  An unexpected incident convinced me of his innocence.

XVI.

I was once coming home through a narrow little street which I generally avoided, because on it was the wing of; a building in which my enemy Trankwillitatin lived, but this time Fate led me that way.  As I was passing beneath the open window of a drinking-house I suddenly heard the voice of our servant Wassily, a young, careless fellow, a big good-for-nothing and a rascal, as my father used to call him, but also a great conqueror of female hearts, which he attacked by his wit, his skill in dancing and his music.

“Just hear what they planned between them!” said Wassily, whom I could not see, though I heard him distinctly:  he was probably sitting drinking tea with a friend close by the window, and, as people in a closed room often do, spoke loud, without thinking that every passer-by could hear each word.  “What did they plan?  They buried it in the earth.”

“You lie!” said the other voice.

“I tell you, that’s the sort of boy they are, especially that David.  He’s a sharp one.  At daybreak I rose and went to the window, and I saw our two little doves go into the garden, carrying the watch, and under the apple tree they dug a hole, and there they laid it like a baby; and then they smoothed the earth, the crazy fellows!”