a year passed... a whole year: no news had come of panteley eremyitch. the cook was dead, perfishka himself made up his mind to abandon the house and go off to town, where he was constantly being persuaded to come by his cousin, apprenticed to a barber; when suddenly a rumour was set afloat that his master was coming back. the parish deacon got a letter from panteley eremyitch himself, in which he informed him of his intention of arriving at bezsonovo, and asked him to prepare his servant to be ready for his immediate return. these words perfishka understood to mean that he was to sweep up the place a bit. he did not, however, put much confidence in the news; he was convinced, though, that the deacon had spoken the truth, when a few days later panteley eremyitch in person appeared in the courtyard, riding on malek-adel.
perfishka rushed up to his master, and, holding the stirrup, would have helped him to dismount, but the latter got off alone, and with a triumphant glance about him, cried in a loud voice: 'i said i would find malek-adel, and i have found him in spite of my enemies, and of fate itself!' perfishka went up to kiss his hand, but tchertop-hanov paid no attention to his servant's devotion. leading malek-adel after him by the rein, he went with long strides towards the stable. perfishka looked more intently at his master, and his heart sank. 'oh, how thin and old he's grown in a year; and what a stern, grim face!' one would have thought panteley eremyitch would have been rejoicing, that he had gained his end; and he was rejoicing, certainly... and yet perfishka's heart sank: he even felt a sort of dread. tchertop-hanov put the horse in its old place, gave him a light pat on the back, and said, 'there! now you're at home again; and mind what you're about.' the same day he hired a freedman out of work as watchman, established himself again in his rooms, and began living as before....
not altogether as before, however... but of that later...
the day after his return, panteley eremyitch called perfishka in to him, and for want of anyone else to talk to, began telling him--keeping up, of course, his sense of his own dignity and his bass voice--how he had succeeded in finding malek-adel. tchertop-hanov sat facing the window while he told his story, and smoked a pipe with a long tube while perfishka stood in the doorway, his hands behind his back, and, respectfully contemplating the back of his master's head, heard him relate how, after many fruitless efforts and idle expeditions, panteley eremyitch had at last come to the fair at romyon by himself, without the jew leyba, who, through weakness of character, had not persevered, but had deserted him; how, on the fifth day, when he was on the point of leaving, he walked for the last time along the rows of carts, and all at once he saw between three other horses fastened to the railings--he saw malek-adel! how he knew him at once, and how malek-adel knew him too, and began neighing, and dragging at his tether, and scraping the earth with his hoof.
'and he was not with the cossack,' tchertop-hanov went on, still not turning his head, and in the same bass voice, 'but with a gypsy horse-dealer; i, of course, at once took hold of my horse and tried to get him away by force, but the brute of a gypsy started yelling as if he'd been scalded, all over the market, and began swearing he'd bought the horse off another gypsy--and wanted to bring witnesses to prove it.... i spat, and paid him the money: damn the fellow! all i cared for was that i had found my favourite, and had got back my peace of mind. moreover, in the karatchevsky district, i took a man for the cossack--i took the jew leyba's word for it that he was my thief--and smashed his face for him; but the cossack turned out to be a priest's son, and got damages out of me--a hundred and twenty roubles. well, money's a thing one may get again, but the great thing is, i've malek-adel back again! i'm happy now--i'm going to enjoy myself in peace. and i've one instruction to give you, perfishka: if ever you, which god forbid, catch sight of the cossack in this neighbourhood, run the very minute without saying a word, and bring me my gun, and i shall know what to do!'
this was what panteley eremyitch said to perfishka: this was how his tongue spoke; but at heart he was not so completely at peace as he declared.
alas! in his heart of hearts he was not perfectly convinced that the horse he had brought back was really malek-adel!
