"Wherever it was, Boris Timofeich," said Sergei, "I am no longer there."
"Have you spent the night with my daughter-in-law?"
"Well, as to that, master, I know where I have passed the night; but, Boris Timofeich, listen to my words; what is done can't be undone, father. Don't disgrace your merchant's house by taking extreme measures. Tell me what you require of me now? What amends do you want?"
"You asp, I want to give you five hundred lashes," answered Boris Timofeich.
"As you will—it's my fault," agreed the young man. "Tell me where to go; do as you please—you may drink my blood."
Boris Timofeich took Sergei to his little stone store-room, and lashed him with his whip until he had no more strength. Sergei did not utter a groan, but instead he chewed half his shirt sleeve away.
Boris Timofeich left Sergei in the store-room for the bruises on his back to heal, gave him an earthen jug of water, locked the door with a great padlock, and sent for his son.
In Russia even now you can't drive fast over by-ways, and Katerina Lvovna could not live a single hour without Sergei. Her awakened
