Presently
Andrey got up and carefully picked his way through and out of the
kitchen, quietly shutting the door after him. The noise of the iron
bucket was heard on the porch. Suddenly the door was flung wide
open; the Little Russian entered the kitchen, and announced in a
loud whisper:
"I hear the jingling of spurs in the street!"
The mother jumped out of bed, catching at her dress with a trembling
hand; but Pavel came to the door and said calmly:
"You stay in bed; you're not feeling well."
A cautious, stealthy sound was heard on the porch. Pavel went to
the door and knocking at it with his hand asked:
"Who's there?"
A tall, gray figure tumultuously precipitated itself through the
doorway; after it another; two gendarmes pushed Pavel back, and
stationed themselves on either side of him, and a loud mocking voice
called out:
"No one you expect, eh?"
The words came from a tall, lank officer, with a thin, black mustache.
The village policeman, Fedyakin, appeared at the bedside of the
mother, and, raising one hand to his cap, pointed the other at her
face and, making terrible eyes, said:
"This is his mother, your honor!" Then, waving his hand toward
Pavel: "And this is he himself.
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