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would not overcharge; exchanged a significant glance with his workmen, and started off to make the necessary arrangements. The whole day was spent driving to and fro between Rasgoulaï and the Nikitsky gates; towards evening, all being arranged, he settled with his driver, and returned homewards on foot. It was a moonlight night. The undertaker had safety reached the Nikitsky gates. At the Church of the Ascension, our friend Yoorko hailed him, and on recognizing the undertaker wished him good-night. It was getting late. The undertaker was approaching his house, when he suddenly fancied he saw some one nearing it, open the wicket, pass through, and disappear. "What can this mean?" thought Adrian. "Who is it wants me again? Can it be a thief? Do lovers perhaps visit my silly girls? It bodes evil!" And the undertaker was on the point of calling his friend Yoorko to come to his aid. Just then some other person approached the wicket and was about to enter, but, on becoming aware that Adrian was nearing hurriedly, this person stopped, and raised his cocked hat; Adrian fancied he knew the face, but was not, in his haste, able to examine it closely. "You were coming to me," said Adrian, breathlessly; "do me the favour to step in."

"No ceremonies, friend," said the stranger, in a hollow voice; "walk on, show thy guests the way!"

There was no time to stand on ceremony. The wicket stood open, Adrian went up the staircase, the person following him. Adrian fancied that people were walking about his rooms. "What devilry is this?" thought he, and hurried in—but here his legs gave way. The room