Мертвые души
Chapter 3
Next,alightgleamedinoneofthewindows,andfilteredinathinstreamtothegardenwall—thusrevealingthewhereaboutsoftheentrancegates;whereuponSelifanfelltoknockingatthegatesuntiltheboltsofthehousedoorwerewithdrawnandthereissuedtherefromafigurecladinaroughcloak.
“Whoisthatknocking?Whathaveyoucomefor?”shoutedthehoarsevoiceofanelderlywoman.
“Wearetravellers,goodmother,”saidChichikov.“Prayallowustospendthenighthere.”
“Outuponyouforapairofgadabouts!”retortedtheoldwoman.“Afinetimeofnighttobearriving!Wedon’tkeepanhotel,mindyou.Thisisalady’sresidence.”
“Butwhatarewetodo,mother?Wehavelostourway,andcannotspendthenightoutofdoorsinsuchweather.”
“No,wecannot.Thenightisdarkandcold,”addedSelifan.
“Holdyourtongue,youfool!”exclaimedChichikov.
“WhoAREyou,then?”inquiredtheoldwoman.
“Advorianin12,goodmother.”
Somehowtheworddvorianinseemedtogivetheoldwomanfoodforthought.
“Waitamoment,”shesaid,“andIwilltellthemistress.”
Twominuteslatershereturnedwithalanterninherhand,thegateswereopened,andalightglimmeredinasecondwindow.Enteringthecourtyard,thebritchkahaltedbeforeamoderate-sizedmansion.Thedarknessdidnotpermitofveryaccurateobservationbeingmade,but,apparently,thewindowsonlyofone-halfofthebuildingwereilluminated,whileaquagmireinfrontofthedoorreflectedthebeamsfromthesame.
