I'll find
this scoffer, I'll talk to him." "Well," thought I, "I should not care to be in that scoffer's shoes! What will happen? Merciful heavens?" XVII. This is what did happen:

As soon as that drowsy, stifling stillness prevailed, which to this
day lies like a feather bed on the Russian household and the Russian
people in the middle of the day after dinner is eaten, David went to
the servants' rooms (I followed on his heels with a sinking heart) and
called Vassily out. The latter was at first unwilling to come, but
ended by obeying and following us into the garden. David stood close in front of him. Vassily was a whole head taller. "Vassily Terentyev," my comrade began in a firm voice, "six weeks ago
you took from under this very apple-tree the watch we hid there. You
had no right to do so; it does not belong to you. Give it back at
once!" Vassily was taken aback, but at once recovered himself. "What watch? What are you talking about? God bless you! I have no
watch!" "I know what I am saying and don't tell lies. You've got the watch,
give it back." "I've not got your watch." "Then how was it that in the eating-house, you ..." I began, but David
stopped me. "Vassily Terentyev!" he pronounced in a hollow, threatening voice, "we
know for a fact that you have the watch. You are told honourably to
give it back and if you don't ..."

Vassily sniggered insolently. "Then what will you do with me then? Eh?" "What will we do? We will both fight with you till you beat us or we
beat you." Vassily laughed. "Fight? That's not for a gentleman! To fight with a servant!" David suddenly caught hold of Vassily's waistcoat. "But we are not going to fight you with our fists," he articulated,
grinding his teeth. "Understand that! I'll give you a knife and take
one myself.... And then we shall see who does for which? Alexey!" he
began commanding me, "run for my big knife, you know the one with the
bone handle--it's lying on the table and the other's in my pocket." Vassily positively collapsed. David stood holding him by the
waistcoat. "Mercy on us! ... Mercy on us, David Yegoritch!" he muttered; tears
actually came into his eyes. "What do you mean, what are you saying? Let me go." "I won't let you go. And we shall have no mercy on you! If you get
away from us today, we shall begin again to-morrow. Alyoshka, where's
the knife?" "David Yegoritch," wailed Vassily, "don't commit murder.... What are
you doing! The watch ... I certainly ... I was joking. I'll give it to
you this minute. What a thing, to be sure! First you are going to slit
Hrisanf Lukitch's belly, then mine. Let me go, David Yegoritch....
Kindly take the watch. Only don't tell your papa." David let go his hold of Vassily's waistcoat. I looked into his face:
certainly not only Vassily might have been frightened by it. It looked
so weary ... and cold ... and angry....

Vassily dashed into the house and promptly returned with the watch in
his hand. He gave it to David without a word and only on going back
into the house exclaimed aloud in the doorway:

"Tfoo! here's a go." He still looked panic-stricken. David tossed his head and walked into
our room. Again I followed on his heels. "A Suvorov! He's a regular
Suvorov!" I thought to myself. In those days, in 1801, Suvorov was
our great national hero. XVIII

David shut the door after him, put the watch on the table, folded his
arms and--oh, wonder!--laughed. Looking at him I laughed, too. "What a wonderful performance!" he began. "We can't get rid of this
watch anyway. It's bewitched, really. And why was I so furious about
it?" "Yes, why?" I repeated. "You ought to have let Vassily keep it...."

"Well, no," interposed David. "That's nonsense. But what are we to do
with it?" "Yes! what?" We both stared at the watch and pondered. Adorned with a chain of pale
blue beads (the luckless Vassily in his haste had not removed this
chain which belonged to him) it was calmly doing its work: ticking
somewhat irregularly, it is true, and slowly moving its copper minute
hand. "Shall we bury it again? Or put it in the stove," I suggested at last. "Or, I tell you what: shouldn't we take it to Latkin?" "No," answered David. "That's not the thing. I know what: they have
set up a committee at the governor's office and are collecting
subscriptions for the benefit of the people of Kasimov. The town has
been burnt to ashes with all its churches. And I am told they take
anything, not only bread and money, but all sorts of things. Shall we
send the watch there?" "Yes! yes!" I answered. "A splendid idea. But I thought that since
your friends are in want...."

"No, no; to the committee; the Latkins will manage without it. To the
committee." "Well, if it is to be the committee, let it be. Only, I imagine, we
must write something to the governor." David glanced at me. "Do you think so?" "Yes, of course; there is no need to write much. But just a few
words." "For instance?" "For instance ... begin like this: 'Being' ... or better: 'Moved
by' ..."

"'Moved by' ... very good." "Then we must say: 'herewith our mite' ..."

"'Mite' ... that's good, too. Well, take your pen, sit down and write,
fire away!" "First I must make a rough copy," I observed. "All right, a rough copy, only write, write.... And meanwhile I will
clean it with some whitening." I took a sheet of paper, mended a pen, but before I had time to write
at the top of the sheet "To His Excellency, the illustrious Prince"
(our governer was at that time Prince X), I stopped, struck by the
extraordinary uproar ... which had suddenly arisen in the house. David
noticed the hubbub, too, and he, too, stopped, holding the watch in
his left hand and a rag with whitening in his right. We looked at each
other. What was that shrill cry. It was my aunt shrieking ... and
that? It was my father's voice, hoarse with anger. "The watch! the
watch!" bawled someone, surely Trankvillitatin. We heard the thud of
feet, the creak of the floor, a regular rabble running ... moving
straight upon us. I was numb with terror and David was as white as
chalk, but he looked proud as an eagle. "Vassily, the scoundrel, has
betrayed us," he whispered through his teeth. The door was flung wide
open, and my father in his dressing gown and without his cravat, my
aunt in her dressing jacket, Trankvillitatin, Vassily, Yushka, another
boy, and the cook, Agapit--all burst into the room. "Scoundrels!" shouted my father, gasping for breath.... "At last we
have found you out!" And seeing the watch in David's hands: "Give it
here!" yelled my father, "give me the watch!" But David, without uttering a word, dashed to the open window and
leapt out of it into the yard and then off into the street. Accustomed to imitate my paragon in everything, I jumped out, too, and
ran after David....

"Catch them! Hold them!" we heard a medley of frantic shouts behind
us.