He smiled impressively and added:
'And the Indians attack the trains, too. But worst of all are the mosquitoes and the termites.'
'Why, what's that?'
'They're something like ants, but with wings. They bite fearfully. Do you know who I am?'
'Mr. Lentilov.'
'No, I am Montehomo, the Hawk's Claw, Chief of the Ever Victorious.'
Masha, the youngest, looked at him, then into the darkness out of window and said, wondering:
'And we had lentils for supper yesterday.'
Lentilov's incomprehensible utterances, and the way he was always whispering with Volodya, and the way Volodya seemed now to be always thinking about something instead of playing . . . all this was strange and mysterious. And the two elder girls, Katya and Sonya, began to keep a sharp look-out on the boys. At night, when the boys had gone to bed, the girls crept to their bedroom door, and listened to what they were saying. Ah, what they discovered! The boys were planning to run away to America to dig for gold: they had everything ready for the journey, a pistol, two knives, biscuits, a burning glass to serve instead of matches, a compass, and four roubles in cash. They learned that the boys would have to walk some thousands of miles, and would have to fight tigers and savages on the road: then they would get gold and ivory, slay their enemies, become pirates, drink gin, and finally marry beautiful maidens, and make a plantation.
The boys interrupted each other in their excitement. Throughout the conversation, Lentilov called himself 'Montehomo, the Hawk's Claw,' and Volodya was 'my pale-face brother!'
'Mind you don't tell mamma,' said Katya, as they went back to bed. 'Volodya will bring us gold and ivory from America, but if you tell mamma he won't be allowed to go.'
The day before Christmas Eve, Lentilov spent the whole day poring over the map of Asia and making notes, while Volodya, with a languid and swollen face that looked as though it had been stung by a bee, walked about the rooms and ate nothing. And once he stood still before the holy image in the nursery, crossed himself, and said:
'Lord, forgive me a sinner; Lord, have pity on my poor unhappy mamma!'
In the evening he burst out crying. On saying good-night he gave his father a long hug, and then hugged his mother and sisters. Katya and Sonya knew what was the matter, but little Masha was puzzled, completely puzzled. Every time she looked at Lentilov she grew thoughtful and said with a sigh:
'When Lent comes, nurse says we shall have to eat peas and lentils.'
Early in the morning of Christmas Eve, Katya and Sonya slipped quietly out of bed, and went to find out how the boys meant to run away to America. They crept to their door.
'Then you don't mean to go?' Lentilov was saying angrily. 'Speak out: aren't you going?'
'Oh dear,' Volodya wept softly. 'How can I go? I feel so unhappy about mamma.'
'My pale-face brother, I pray you, let us set off. You declared you were going, you egged me on, and now the time comes, you funk it!'
'I . . . I . . . I'm not funking it, but I . . . I . . . I'm sorry for mamma.'
'Say once and for all, are you going or are you not?'
'I am going, only . . . wait a little . . . I want to be at home a little.'
'In that case I will go by myself,' Lentilov declared. 'I can get on without you. And you wanted to hunt tigers and fight! Since that's how it is, give me back my cartridges!'
At this Volodya cried so bitterly that his sisters could not help crying too. Silence followed.
'So you are not coming?' Lentilov began again.
'I . . . I . . . I am coming!'
'WeIl, put on your things, then.'
And Lentilov tried to cheer Volodya up by singing the praises of America, growling like a tiger, pretending to be a steamer, scolding him, and promising to give him all the ivory and lions' and tigers' skins.
And this thin, dark boy, with his freckles and his bristling shock of hair, impressed the little girls as an extraordinary remarkable person. He was a hero, a determined character, who knew no fear, and he growled so ferociously, that, standing at the door, they really might imagine there was a tiger or lion inside. When the little girls went back to their room and dressed, Katya's eyes were full of tears, and she said:
'Oh, I feel so frightened!'
Everything was as usual till two o'clock, when they sat down to dinner. Then it appeared that the boys were not in the house. They sent to the servants' quarters, to the stables, to the bailiff's cottage. They were not to be found. They sent into the village -- they were not there.
At tea, too, the boys were still absent, and by supper-time Volodya's mother was dreadfully uneasy, and even shed tears.
Late in the evening they sent again to the village, they searched everywhere, and walked along the river bank with lanterns. Heavens! what a fuss there was!
Next day the police officer came, and a paper of some sort was written out in the dining-room. Their mother cried. . . .
All of a sudden a sledge stopped at the door, with three white horses in a cloud of steam.
'Volodya's come,' someone shouted in the yard.
'Master Volodya's here!' bawled Natalya, running into the dining-room. And Milord barked his deep bass,
