Kasbitch was silent for a long, long while; at last instead of replying, he began to chant an old ditty, half aloud:
‘Down in our hamlet many are the beauteous maidens Stars are gleaming in the dark heaven of their eyes. Sweet it were to own their love, a lot, indeed, to envy! But sweeter still than this is young and lusty freedom. For gold you may buy beauties, ay, as many as you will, But a steed of highest mettle is a treasure beyond price, Swift as the wind he flies over the Steppes, And fickleness and falsehood have no place in him.’
It was to no purpose Asamat importuned him to accept his proposal, and wept, and raved, and swore; Kasbitch lost patience at last.
‘Go along, silly boy!’ he said. ‘You ride my horse! With the first three steps he would fling you off, and break your neck on the stones.’
‘Me!’ screamed Asamat, in a fury, and the boy’s dagger clashed on the coat of mail. But a vigorous hand shook him off, and dashed him with such violence against the boarded wall that it rocked with the blow. Here’s a pretty piece of work! thought I; so I hurried to the stall, bridled our horses, and led them to the backdoor. In two minutes there was a tremendous row in the house. What happened there was briefly this: Asamat rushed in, with his beshmet torn, crying out that Kasbitch wanted to murder him. All present sprang up, seized their weapons, and the brawl began. All were shouting, blows, and firing; but Kasbitch was already in the saddle, and broke, like an incarnate fiend, through the throng, brandishing his shashka. Petchorin wanted to see how it would end, but he took my advice, and we rode straight home.
M.—The usual luck of these fellows; he got clear off whether wounded or not, Heaven only knows! They have as many lives as cats, these robbers. I saw one of them, for instance, in battle, pierced like a sieve with bayonet holes, yet still laying about him with his shashka. [The captain paused awhile, and then continued, stamping on the ground]: One thing I shall never forgive myself: the devil put it into my head, when I got back to the fort, to tell Petchorin all I had overheard in the shed. He smiled, with such a sly air,—he had his reasons for it, as you shall see.