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_ VI
EUGENE MIHAILOVICH had actually used the coupon to buy firewood
from the peasant Ivan Mironov, who had thought of setting
up in business on the seventeen roubles he possessed.
He hoped in this way to earn another eight roubles,
and with the twenty-five roubles thus amassed he intended
to buy a good strong horse, which he would want in the spring
for work in the fields and for driving on the roads, as his old
horse was almost played out.
Ivan Mironov's commercial method consisted in buying from
the stores a cord of wood and dividing it into five cartloads,
and then driving about the town, selling each of these at
the price the stores charged for a quarter of a cord.
That unfortunate day Ivan Mironov drove out very early
with half a cartload, which he soon sold. He loaded
up again with another cartload which he hoped to sell,
but he looked in vain for a customer; no one would buy it.
It was his bad luck all that day to come across experienced
towns-people, who knew all the tricks of the peasants in
selling firewood, and would not believe that he had actually
brought the wood from the country as he assured them.
He got hungry, and felt cold in his ragged woollen coat.
It was nearly below zero when evening came on;
his horse which he had treated without mercy, hoping soon
to sell it to the knacker's yard, refused to move a step.
So Ivan Mironov was quite ready to sell his firewood at a loss
when he met Eugene Mihailovich, who was on his way home
from the tobacconist.
"Buy my cartload of firewood, sir. I will give it to you cheap.
My poor horse is tired, and can't go any farther."
"Where do you come from?"
"From the country, sir. This firewood is from our place.
Good dry wood, I can assure you."
"Good wood indeed! I know your tricks. Well, what is your price?"
Ivan Mironov began by asking a high price, but reduced it once,
and finished by selling the cartload for just what it had cost him.
"I'm giving it to you cheap, just to please you, sir.--Besides, I am glad it
is not a long way to your house," he added.
Eugene Mihailovich did not bargain very much.
He did not mind paying a little more, because he was delighted
to think he could make use of the coupon and get rid of it.
With great difficulty Ivan Mironov managed at last, by pulling
the shafts himself, to drag his cart into the courtyard,
where he was obliged to unload the firewood unaided
and pile it up in the shed. The yard-porter was out.
Ivan Mironov hesitated at first to accept the coupon, but Eugene
Mihailovich insisted, and as he looked a very important person
the peasant at last agreed.
He went by the backstairs to the servants' room, crossed himself
before the ikon, wiped his beard which was covered with icicles,
turned up the skirts of his coat, took out of his pocket
a leather purse, and out of the purse eight roubles and
fifty kopeks, and handed the change to Eugene Mihailovich.
Carefully folding the coupon, he put it in the purse.
Then, according to custom, he thanked the gentleman for
his kindness, and, using the whip-handle instead of the lash,
he belaboured the half-frozen horse that he had doomed to an
early death, and betook himself to a public-house.
Arriving there, Ivan Mironov called for vodka and tea for which he paid
eight kopeks. Comfortable and warm after the tea, he chatted in the very
best of spirits with a yard-porter who was sitting at his table.
Soon he grew communicative and told his companion all about the conditions
of his life. He told him he came from the village Vassilievsky,
twelve miles from town, and also that he had his allotment of land
given to him by his family, as he wanted to live apart from his
father and his brothers; that he had a wife and two children;
the elder boy went to school, and did not yet help him in his work.
He also said he lived in lodgings and intended going to the horse-fair
the next day to look for a good horse, and, may be, to buy one.
He went on to state that he had now nearly twenty-five roubles--
only one rouble short--and that half of it was a coupon.
He took the coupon out of his purse to show to his new friend.
The yard-porter was an illiterate man, but he said he had had
such coupons given him by lodgers to change; that they were good;
but that one might also chance on forged ones; so he advised the peasant,
for the sake of security, to change it at once at the counter.
Ivan Mironov gave the coupon to the waiter and asked for change.
The waiter, however, did not bring the change, but came back with
the manager, a bald-headed man with a shining face, who was holding
the coupon in his fat hand.
"Your money is no good," he said, showing the coupon, but apparently
determined not to give it back.
"The coupon must be all right. I got it from a gentleman."
"It is bad, I tell you. The coupon is forged."
"Forged? Give it back to me."
"I will not. You fellows have got to be punished for such tricks.
Of course, you did it yourself--you and some of your rascally friends."
"Give me the money. What right have you--"
"Sidor! Call a policeman," said the barman to the waiter.
Ivan Mironov was rather drunk, and in that condition was hard to manage.
He seized the manager by the collar and began to shout.
"Give me back my money, I say. I will go to the gentleman who gave it to me.
I know where he lives."
The manager had to struggle with all his force to get loose from
Ivan Mironov, and his shirt was torn,--"Oh, that's the way you behave!
Get hold of him."
The waiter took hold of Ivan Mironov; at that moment the policeman arrived.
Looking very important, he inquired what had happened, and unhesitatingly
gave his orders:
"Take him to the police-station."
As to the coupon, the policeman put it in his pocket; Ivan Mironov,
together with his horse, was brought to the nearest station. _
Read next: PART FIRST: Chapter VII
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