Five minutes had not passed before Gerasim made his appearance with a huge bundle of hewn logs on his back, accompanied by the inseparable Mumu. Gerasim turned sideways before the door, shoved it open with his shoulder, and staggered into the house with his load. Mumu, as usual, stayed behind to wait for him. Then Stepan, seizing his chance, suddenly pounced on her, like a kite on a chicken, held her down to the ground, gathered her up in his arms, and without even putting on his cap, ran out of the yard with her, got into the first fly he met, and galloped off to a market-place. There he soon found a purchaser, to whom he sold her for a shilling, on condition that he would keep her for at least a week tied up; then he returned at once.
On coming out of the house Gerasim had at once missed Mumu. He never remembered her failing to wait for his return, and began running up and down, looking for her, and calling her in his own way... He rushed up to his garret, up to the hay-loft, ran out into the street, this way and that...
She was lost!
He turned to the other serfs, with the most despairing signs, questioned them about her, pointing to her height from the ground, describing her with his hands... Then Gerasim ran right away out of the yard. It was dark by the time he came back. From his worn-out look, his unsteady walk, and his dusty clothes, it might be surmised that he had been running over half Moscow.
Everyone looked after him, but no one smiled or said a word, and the inquisitive postilion Antipka reported next morning in the kitchen that the dumb man had been groaning all night.
It was the third morning when Gerasim came out of his garret. He came in to his dinner, ate it, and went out again, without a greeting to anyone. His face, which had always been lifeless, as with all deaf-mutes, seemed now to be turned to stone. After dinner he went out of the yard again, but not for long; he came back, and went straight up to the hay-loft.
Night came on, a clear moonlight night. Gerasim lay breathing heavily, and incessantly turning from side to side.
Suddenly he felt something pull at the skirt of his coat. He started, but did not raise his head, and even shut his eyes tighter. But again there was a pull, stronger than before; he jumped up before him, with an end of string round her neck, was Mumu, twisting and turning. A prolonged cry of delight broke from his speechless breast; he caught up Mumu, and hugged her tight in his arms, she licked his nose and eyes, and beard and moustache, all in one instant... He stood a little, thought a minute, crept cautiously down from the hay-loft, looked round, and having satisfied himself that no one could see him, made his way successfully to his garret.
Gerasim had guessed before that his dog had not got lost by her own doing, that she must have been taken away by the mistress’s orders; the servants had explained to him by signs that his Mumu had snapped at her, and he determined to take his own measures. First he fed Mumu with a bit of bread, fondled her, and put her to bed, then he fell to meditating, and spent the whole night long in meditating how he could best conceal her.
At last he decided to leave her all day in the garret, and only to come in now and then to see her, and to take her out at night.
The hole in the door he stopped up effectually with his old overcoat, and almost before it was light he was already in the yard, as though nothing had happened, even—innocent guile!
The dumb man had never shown such energy as on that day; he cleaned and scraped the whole courtyard, pulled up every single weed with his own hand, tugged up every stake in the fence of the flower-garden. In fact, he toiled and labored so that even the old lady noticed his zeal.
Twice in the course of the day Gerasim went stealthily in to see his prisoner; when night came on, he lay down to sleep with her in the garret, not in the hay-loft, and only at two o’clock in the night he went out to take her a turn in the fresh air.
On that day,after walking about the courtyard a good while with her, he was just turning back, when suddenly a rustle was heard behind the fence on the side of the back street. Mumu pricked up her ears, growled—went up to the fence, sniffed, and gave vent to a loud shrill bark. At that very time the old lady had just fallen asleep, the sudden bark waked her up, her heart palpitated, and she felt faint. “Again, that dog, again! The dog, the dog again! Oh!”
Steward in a fury ordered the whole household to get up.
Meanwhile the luckless Mumu had gone on barking, while Gerasim tried in vain to call her away, from the fence. Gerasim turned round, saw lights and shadows moving in the windows, and with an instinct of coming trouble in his heart, put Mumu under his arm, ran into his garret, and locked himself in.
On the narrow staircase leading to the garret sat one guard; at the door were standing two more with sticks. They went up to the door, knocked with his fist, shouting, “Open the door!”
Gerasim stood without stirring in his doorway. Steward took a step forward. And he began to explain to him by signs that the mistress insists on having his dog; that he must hand it over at once, or it would be the worse for him. Gerasim looked at him, pointed to the dog, made a motion with his hand round his neck, as though announcing he would take upon himself the task of killing Mumu.
“Yes, yes,” the latter assented, nodding,“ yes, just so.”
Mumu, who was all the while standing beside him, innocently wagging her tail and pricking up her ears inquisitively. Gerasim looked at him, smiled scornfully, struck himself again on the breast, and slammed to the door.
