“Bring more water! Do your best, Orthodox men and women, on this unfortunate occasion!”
The muzhiks stood in a crowd with idle hands and gaped at the fire. Not one knew what to start on, not one was capable of help ; although around were stacks of grain, hay, outhouses, and heaps of dry brushwood. Kiriak and his father Osip, both tipsy, stood in the crowd. As if to excuse his idleness, the old man turned to the woman who lay on the ground and said —
“Don't worry yourself, gossip! The hut's insured — it's all the same to you!”
And Semion, addressing each muzhik in turn, explained how the hut caught fire.
“That old man there with the bundle is General Zhukoff's servant. . . . He was with our general, heaven kingdom to him! as cook. He comes up to us in the evening and begins, ‘Let me sleep here to-night.’ . . . We had a drink each, of course. . . . The woman prepared the samovar to get the old man tea, when in an unlucky moment she put it in the hall; and the fire from the chimney, of course, went up to the roof, the straw and all! We were nearly burnt ourselves. And the old man lost his cap; it's a pity.”
The fire-alarm boomed without cease; and the bells of the church across the river rang again and again. Olga, panting, bathed in the glare, looked with terror
