Part 5 (2/2)

Kovaloff, still holding his handkerchief to his face, re-entered the droshky and cried in a despairing voice ”Drive on!”

”Where?” asked the coachman.

”Straight on!”

”But how? There are cross-roads here. Shall I go to the right or the left?”

This question made Kovaloff reflect. In his situation it was necessary to have recourse to the police; not because the affair had anything to do with them directly but because they acted more promptly than other authorities. As for demanding any explanation from the department to which the nose claimed to belong, it would, he felt, be useless, for the answers of that gentleman showed that he regarded nothing as sacred, and he might just as likely have lied in this matter as in saying that he had never seen Kovaloff.

But just as he was about to order the coachman to drive to the police-station, the idea occurred to him that this rascally scoundrel who, at their first meeting, had behaved so disloyally towards him, might, profiting by the delay, quit the city secretly; and then all his searching would be in vain, or might last over a whole month. Finally, as though visited with a heavenly inspiration, he resolved to go directly to an advertis.e.m.e.nt office, and to advertise the loss of his nose, giving all its distinctive characteristics in detail, so that anyone who found it might bring it at once to him, or at any rate inform him where it lived. Having decided on this course, he ordered the coachman to drive to the advertis.e.m.e.nt office, and all the way he continued to punch him in the back--”Quick, scoundrel! quick!”

”Yes, sir!” answered the coachman, las.h.i.+ng his s.h.a.ggy horse with the reins.

At last they arrived, and Kovaloff, out of breath, rushed into a little room where a grey-haired official, in an old coat and with spectacles on his nose, sat at a table holding his pen between his teeth, counting a heap of copper coins.

”Who takes in the advertis.e.m.e.nts here?” exclaimed Kovaloff.

”At your service, sir,” answered the grey-haired functionary, looking up and then fastening his eyes again on the heap of coins before him.

”I wish to place an advertis.e.m.e.nt in your paper----”

”Have the kindness to wait a minute,” answered the official, putting down figures on paper with one hand, and with the other moving two b.a.l.l.s on his calculating-frame.

A lackey, whose silver-laced coat showed that he served in one of the houses of the n.o.bility, was standing by the table with a note in his hand, and speaking in a lively tone, by way of showing himself sociable.

”Would you believe it, sir, this little dog is really not worth twenty-four kopecks, and for my own part I would not give a farthing for it; but the countess is quite gone upon it, and offers a hundred roubles' reward to anyone who finds it. To tell you the truth, the tastes of these people are very different from ours; they don't mind giving five hundred or a thousand roubles for a poodle or a pointer, provided it be a good one.”

The official listened with a serious air while counting the number of letters contained in the note. At either side of the table stood a number of housekeepers, clerks and porters, carrying notes. The writer of one wished to sell a barouche, which had been brought from Paris in 1814 and had been very little used; others wanted to dispose of a strong droshky which wanted one spring, a spirited horse seventeen years old, and so on. The room where these people were collected was very small, and the air was very close; but Kovaloff was not affected by it, for he had covered his face with a handkerchief, and because his nose itself was heaven knew where.

”Sir, allow me to ask you--I am in a great hurry,” he said at last impatiently.

”In a moment! In a moment! Two roubles, twenty-four kopecks--one minute!

One rouble, sixty-four kopecks!” said the grey-haired official, throwing their notes back to the housekeepers and porters. ”What do you wish?” he said, turning to Kovaloff.

”I wish--” answered the latter, ”I have just been swindled and cheated, and I cannot get hold of the perpetrator. I only want you to insert an advertis.e.m.e.nt to say that whoever brings this scoundrel to me will be well rewarded.”

”What is your name, please?”

”Why do you want my name? I have many lady friends--Madame Tchektyriev, wife of a state-councillor, Madame Podtotchina, wife of a Colonel.

Heaven forbid that they should get to hear of it. You can simply write 'committee-man,' or, better, 'Major.'”

”And the man who has run away is your serf.”

”Serf! If he was, it would not be such a great swindle! It is the nose which has absconded.”

”H'm! What a strange name. And this Mr Nose has stolen from you a considerable sum?”

”Mr Nose! Ah, you don't understand me! It is my own nose which has gone, I don't know where. The devil has played a trick on me.”

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