find any more: to a fence or to the treasury. If you decide to follow the law, I’ll tell you how to do it. The newspapers will write about your patriotism.’
‘About what?’
‘About you not just filling your belly, but loving your homeland, that’s what.’
Senka wasn’t too sure about the homeland part. Where was his homeland, anyway? Sukharevka, was it, or Khitrovka? Why should he love those lousy dives?
Then Kuvshinnnikov surprised him again. He sighed. ‘So, Zot lied to me about the grammar school. And about everything else too, no doubt. . . Very well, he’ll answer to me for that.’
The judge turned sad and hung his grey head. ‘Forgive me, Senya, for buying off my conscience with a hundred roubles. I could have called to check how you were getting on at least once. When your father died, I wanted to take both of you in, but Puzyrev clung on to you like grim death – he’s my nephew, he said, my sister’s flesh and blood. But it would seem money was the only thing on his mind.’
Senka’s thoughts briefly turned away from money to something completely different: how would everything have turned out if he’d been taken in by Judge Kuvshinninkov instead of Uncle Zot?
But what point was there in eating his heart out now?
Senka asked sullenly: ‘Won’t you let me see Vanka?’
The judge paused for a moment before he answered. ‘Well now, you’ve spoken to me honestly, and you’re not an entirely hopeless case. So yes, you can see each other. Why shouldn’t you? Vanya’s French lesson has just finished. Go to the nursery. The maid will show you the way.’
And Senka needn’t have worried about his little brother.
When they told Vanka his big brother had arrived, he ran out to meet him, jumped right up and threw his arms round Senka’s neck.
‘Aha! I did it, I wrote him a letter! Senya, you look just the way I imagined you!’ Then he corrected himself. ‘Not imagined, remembered. You haven’t changed at all, even the tie’s still the same!’
What a brazen liar the little scamp was!
Senka gave him the bonbonnier and some other presents: binoculars and a penknife – the same one, with the nail file on it. Of course, Vanka immediately forgot all about his brother and started fiddling with the blades – but that was all right, kids will be kids.
Senka shook the judge’s hand when he said goodbye and promised to come again in a couple of days.
He walked back almost all the way to the Kaluga Gate, deep in thought.
Seven thousand a rod! If he didn’t force down the price, he could live like a king for a whole year – on just one rod.
He had to put his wits to work, use that noggin a bit.
As a certain individual, who has already been mentioned, had taught him: ‘He who think rittur, cry man’ tears.’
Story Four. About the Japanese man Masa
Meaning: ‘He who thinks little, cries many tears’. This individual could not pronounce the Russian ‘l’ because there was no such letter in the language where he was from. But apparently they managed somehow, they got by.
So now it is time to tell you about Senka’s other teacher, who wasn’t hired, but self-appointed.
It happened like this.
The day after the ballet, when Senka was feeling unwell first thing in the morning, and then was cured by champagne and pate, he had an unexpected visitor.
There was a knock on the door – a quiet, well-mannered knock. He thought it was the landlady.
But when he opened the door he saw the Japanese, from yesterday.
Senka got an awful fright. Now the Jap would start belting him and asking why he had scampered off before being called to account for his stealing.
The Japanese said hello and asked: ‘Why you trembur?’
Senka told him straight: ‘I’m trembling because I’m afraid for my life. Afraid you might do me in, mister.’
The Japanese was surprised: ‘You mean, Senka-kun, that you afrai’ of death?’
‘Who isn’t afraid of it?’ Senka answered. The question sounded like a threat, and Senka backed away towards the window. He’d thought maybe he could leap from the window. But it was a bit on the high side, otherwise he’d definitely have jumped.
The Japanese continued to put the wind up Senka – making out he was even more surprised. ‘Why be afrai’? You no’ afrai’ to sreep at nigh’, are you?’
After a dark hint like that, Senka stopped feeling afraid of the height. He backed off all the way to the window