Go away, go away, in God's name, and you others, off with you, do you hear?...'
Vassily Ivanovitch moved swiftly to the open window, took out a small silver whistle, blew lightly... Bourcier answered from close by. Lutchinov turned at once to Pavel Afanasievitch.
'What's to be the end of this farce?'
'Vassily Ivanovitch, I will come to you to-morrow. What can I do with this crazy old woman?...'
'Oh, I see it's no good wasting words on you,' said Vassily, and he swiftly raised his cane...
Pavel Afanasievitch broke loose, pushed Efimovna away, snatched up the sword, and rushed through another door into the garden.
Vassily dashed after him. They ran into a wooden summerhouse, painted cunningly after the Chinese fashion, shut themselves in, and drew their swords. Rogatchov had once taken lessons in fencing, but now he was scarcely capable of drawing a sword properly. The blades crossed. Vassily was obviously playing with Rogatchov's sword. Pavel Afanasievitch was breathless and pale, and gazed in consternation into Lutchinov's face.
Meanwhile, screams were heard in the garden; a crowd of people were running to the summerhouse. Suddenly Rogatchov heard the heart-
