“You want to be friends with us because we should be such useful neighbors to you…because there will be less than a hundred and fifty workmen in our factory, and in course of time even more. If a hundred men come and drink one glass at your place, after receiving their weekly wages, that means you will sell every month four hundred glasses more than you sell at present. This is of course the lowest estimate. And then you have the eating-house besides. You are not an inexperienced fool, and you can understand for yourself what profitable neighbors we shall be.”

“That is true,” Vaviloff nodded, “I knew that.”

“Well, what then?” asked the merchant, loudly.

“Nothing…Let us be friends!”

“It is nice to see you have decided so quickly. See here, I have already prepared a notification to the court on the withdrawal of the summons against my father. Here it is; read it, and sign it.”

Vaviloff looked at his interlocutor with his round eyes and started, as if scenting something unpleasant.

“Pardon me…sign it? How is that?”

“Quite simple…just write your Christian name and surname, nothing more,” explained Petunikoff, pointing obligingly with his finger to the place allotted for the signature.

“Oh! It is not that…I was alluding to the compensation I was to get for my ground.”

“But this ground is of no use to you,” said Petunikoff, calmly.

“But it is mine all the same!” exclaimed the soldier.

“Of course, and how much do you want for it?”

“Well, say the amount stated in the document,” said Vaviloff, falteringly.

“Six hundred!” and Petunikoff smiled softly. “You are a funny bloke!”

“The law is on my side.…I can even demand two thousand. I can insist on your pulling down the building… and enforce it too. That is why my claim is so small. I demand that you should pull it down!”

“Very well, go on. Probably we shall do so…after three years, and after having dragged you into enormous law expenses. And then having paid up, we shall open our own public-house, far better than yours, and you will be ruined…done for like the Swedes at Poltava. We shall see that you are done for…we shall take good care of that, you may be sure.”

Egor Terentievitch looked at his guest, clenching his teeth, and felt that his fate was in his hands. Vaviloff was overwhelmed with self-pity at having to deal with this calm, relentless figure in the checked suit.

“Being such a near neighbor you might have gained a good deal in remaining friendly with us, and we should have done our best to make it worth your while. For instance, I would advise you even now to open a small shop for tobacco, you know, bread, matches, cucumbers, and so on.…All these are sure to be in great demand.”

Vaviloff listened, and, being a clever fellow, knew that to throw himself on the enemy’s generosity was the better plan. He ought to have done this from the start. Now, unable to relieve his mind otherwise, the soldier began to swear at Kuvalda.

“Curses be upon your head, you drunken rascal! May the Devil take you!”