locked. He stepped over the threshold, and again called his horse; this time by his full name, Malek-Adel! But no response came from his faithful companion; only a mouse rustled in the straw. Then Tchertop-hanov rushed into one of the three horse-boxes in the stable in which Malek-Adel was put. He went straight to the horse-box, though it was pitch-dark around.... Empty! Tchertop-hanov's head went round; it seemed as though a bell was booming in his brain. He tried to say something, but only brought out a sort of hiss; and fumbling with his hands above, below, on all sides, breathless, with shaking knees, he made his way from one horse-box to another... to a third, full almost to the top with hay; stumbled against one wall, and then the other; fell down, rolled over on his head, got up, and suddenly ran headlong through the half-open door into the courtyard....
'Stolen! Perfishka! Perfishka! Stolen!' he yelled at the top of his voice.
The groom Perfishka flew head-over-heels out of the loft where he slept, with only his shirt on....
Like drunk men they ran against one another, the master and his solitary servant, in the middle of the courtyard; like madmen they turned round each other. The master could not explain what was the matter; nor could the servant make out what was wanted of him. 'Woe! woe!' wailed Tchertop-hanov. 'Woe! woe!' the groom repeated after him. 'A lantern! here! light a lantern! Light! light!' broke at last from Tchertop-hanov's fainting lips. Perfishka rushed into the house.
But to light the lantern, to get fire, was not easy; lucifer matches were regarded as a rarity in those days in Russia; the last embers had long ago gone out in the kitchen; flint and steel were not quickly found, and they did not work well. Gnashing his teeth, Tchertop-hanov snatched them out of the hands of the flustered Perfishka, and began striking a light himself; the sparks fell in abundance, in still greater abundance fell curses, and even groans; but the tinder either did not catch or went out again, in spite of the united efforts of four swollen cheeks and lips to blow it into a flame! At last, in five minutes, not sooner, a bit of tallow candle was alight at the bottom of a battered lantern; and Tchertop-hanov, accompanied by Perfishka, dashed into the stable, lifted the lantern above his head, looked round....
All empty!
He bounded out into the courtyard, ran up and down it in all directions--no horse anywhere! The hurdle- fence, enclosing Panteley Eremyitch's yard, had long been dilapidated, and in many places was bent and lying on the ground.... Beside the stable, it had been completely levelled for a good yard's width. Perfishka pointed this spot out to Tchertop-hanov.
'Master! look here; this wasn't like this to-day. And see the ends of the uprights sticking out of the ground; that means someone has pulled them out.'
Tchertop-hanov ran up with the lantern, moved it about over the ground....
'Hoofs, hoofs, prints of horse-shoes, fresh prints!' he muttered, speaking hurriedly.' They took him through here, through here!'
He instantly leaped over the fence, and with a shout, 'Malek-Adel! Malek-Adel!' he ran straight into the open country.
Perfishka remained standing bewildered at the fence. The ring of light from the lantern was soon lost to his eyes, swallowed up in the dense darkness of a starless, moonless night.
Fainter and fainter came the sound of the despairing cries of Tchertop-hanov....
VIII
It was daylight when he came home again. He hardly looked like a human being. His clothes were covered with mud, his face had a wild and ferocious expression, his eyes looked dull and sullen. In a hoarse whisper he drove Perfishka away, and locked himself in his room. He could hardly stand with fatigue, but he did not lie on his bed, but sat down on a chair by the door and clutched at his head.
'Stolen!... stolen!...'
But in what way had the thief contrived by night, when the stable was locked, to steal Malek-Adel? Malek- Adel, who would never let a stranger come near him even by day--steal him, too, without noise, without a sound? And how explain that not a yard-dog had barked? It was true there were only two left--two young puppies--and those two probably burrowing in rubbish from cold and hunger--but still!
'And what am I to do now without Malek-Adel?' Tchertop-hanov brooded. 'I've lost my last pleasure now; it's time to die. Buy another horse, seeing the money has come? But where find another horse like that?'
'Panteley Eremyitch! Panteley Eremyitch!' he heard a timid call at the door.
Tchertop-hanov jumped on to his feet.
'Who is it?' he shouted in a voice not his own.
'It's I, your groom, Perfishka.'
'What do you want? Is he found? has he run home?'
'No, Panteley Eremyitch; but that Jew chap who sold him.'...
'Well?'
'He's come.'
'Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho!' yelled Tchertop-hanov, and he at once flung open the door. 'Drag him here! drag him along!'
On seeing the sudden apparition of his 'benefactor's' dishevelled, wild-looking figure, the Jew, who was standing behind Perfishka's back, tried to give them the slip; but Tchertop-hanov, in two bounds, was upon him, and like a tiger flew at his throat.
'Ah! he's come for the money! for the money!' he cried as hoarsely as though he were being strangled himself instead of strangling the Jew; 'you stole him by night, and are come by day for the money, eh? Eh? Eh?'
'Mercy on us, your ex-shelency,' the Jew tried to groan out.
'Tell me, where's my horse? What have you done with him? Whom have you sold him to? Tell me, tell me, tell me!'
The Jew by now could not even groan; his face was rapidly turning livid, and even the expression of fear had vanished from it. His hands dropped and hung lifeless, his whole body, furiously shaken by Tchertop-hanov, waved backwards and forwards like a reed.
'I'll pay you your money, I'll pay it you in full to the last farthing,' roared Tchertop-hanov, 'but I'll strangle you like any chicken if you don't tell me at once!'...
'But you have strangled him already, master,' observed the groom Perfishka humbly.
Then only Tchertop-hanov came to his senses.
He let go of the Jew's neck; the latter fell heavily to the ground. Tchertop-hanov picked him up, sat him on a bench, poured a glass of vodka down his throat, and restored him to consciousness. And having restored him to consciousness, he began to talk to him.
It turned out that the Jew had not the slightest idea that Malek-Adel had been stolen. And, indeed, what motive could he have to steal the horse which he had himself procured for his 'revered Panteley Eremyitch.'
Then Tchertop-hanov led him into the stable.
Together they scrutinised the horse-boxes, the manger, and the lock on the door, turned over the hay and the straw, and then went into the courtyard. Tchertop-hanov showed the Jew the hoofprints at the fence, and all at once he slapped his thighs.
'Stay!' he cried. 'Where did you buy the horse?'
'In the district of Maloarchangel, at Verhosensky Fair,' answered the Jew.
'Of whom?'
'A Cossack.'
Stay! This Cossack; was he a young man or old?'
'Middle-aged--a steady man.'
'And what was he like? What did he look like? A cunning rascal, I expect?'
'Sure to have been a rascal, your ex-shelency.'
'And, I say, what did he say, this rascal?--had he had the horse long?'
'I recollect he said he'd had it a long while.'
'Well, then, no one could have stolen him but he! Consider it yourself, listen, stand here!... What's your name?'
The Jew started and turned his little black eyes upon Tchertop-hanov.
