Knock, Knock, Knock and Other Stories

with something red, like blood.

'What is it?' he asked Emilie. 'Is it some more stolen things returned

to you?'

'Yes,' answered Emilie, as it were, reluctantly. 'Some more.'

'Was it your servant found them?'

Emilie frowned.

'What servant? We haven't any servant.'

'Some other man, then?'

'No men come to see us.'

'But excuse me, excuse me.... I saw the cuff of a man's coat or

jacket. And, besides, this cap....'

'Men never, never come to see us,' Emilie repeated emphatically. 'What

did you see? You saw nothing! And that cap is mine.'

'How is that?'

'Why, just that. I wear it for dressing up.... Yes, it is mine, und

Punctum.'

'Who brought you the bundle, then?'

Emilie made no answer and, pouting, followed Madame Fritsche out of

the room. Ten minutes later she came back alone, without her aunt and

when Kuzma Vassilyevitch tried to question her again, she gazed at his

forehead, said that it was disgraceful for a gentleman to be so

inquisitive (as she said this, her face changed a little, as it were,

darkened), and taking a pack of old cards from the card table drawer,

asked him to tell fortunes for her and the king of hearts.

Kuzma Vassilyevitch laughed, took the cards, and all evil thoughts

immediately slipped out of his mind.

But they came back to him that very day. When he had got out of the

gate into the street, had said good-bye to Emilie, shouted to her for

the last time, 'Adieu, Zuckerpuppchen!' a short man darted by

him and turning for a minute in his direction (it was past midnight

but the moon was shining rather brightly), displayed a lean gipsy face

with thick black eyebrows and moustache, black eyes and a hooked nose.

The man at once rushed round the corner and it struck Kuzma

Vassilyevitch that he recognised--not his face, for he had never seen

it before--but the cuff of his sleeve. Three silver buttons gleamed

distinctly in the moonlight. There was a stir of uneasy perplexity in

the soul of the prudent lieutenant; when he got home he did not light

as usual his meerschaum pipe. Though, indeed, his sudden acquaintance

with charming Emilie and the agreeable hours spent in her company

would alone have induced his agitation.

X

Whatever Kuzma Vassilyevitch's apprehensions may have been, they were

quickly dissipated and left no trace. He took to visiting the two

ladies from Riga frequently. The susceptible lieutenant was soon on

friendly terms with Emilie. At first he was ashamed of the

acquaintance and concealed his visits; later on he got over being

ashamed and no longer concealed his visits; it ended by his being more

eager to spend his time with his new friends than with anyone and

greatly preferring their society to the cheerless solitude of his own

four walls. Madame Fritsche herself no longer made the same unpleasant

impression upon him, though she still treated him morosely and

ungraciously. Persons in straitened circumstances like Madame Fritsche

particularly appreciate a liberal expenditure in their visitors, and

Kuzma Vassilyevitch was a little stingy and his presents for the most

part took the shape of raisins, walnuts, cakes.... Only once he let

himself go and presented Emilie with a light pink fichu of real French

material, and that very day she had burnt a hole in his gift with a

candle. He began to upbraid her; she fixed the fichu to the cat's