The case dragged on. Convinced that he was in the right, Andrei Gavrilovich worried little about it, had neither the wish nor the means to throw money around, and though he used to be the first to mock the bought conscience of the ink-slinging tribe, the thought of falling victim to calumny never entered his head. For his part, Troekurov cared just as little about the success of the case he had undertaken. Shabashkin bustled about for him, acted in his name, threatened and bribed judges, and interpreted various decrees either straightly or crookedly.
Be that as it may, in the year 18––, on the 9th day of February, Dubrovsky received, through the town police, a summons to appear before the * * * district judge for the hearing of his decision in the affair of the estate contested between him, Lieutenant Dubrovsky, and General-en-chef Troekurov and the signing of his accord or disaccord. That same day Dubrovsky set out for town; on the way Troekurov overtook him. They looked at each other proudly, and Dubrovsky noticed a malicious smile on his adversary’s face.
CHAPTER TWO
Having arrived in town, Andrei Gavrilovich stopped with a merchant acquaintance, spent the night there, and the next morning appeared in the office of the district court. No one paid any attention to him. After him came Kirila Petrovich. The clerks rose and put their pens behind their ears. The members of the court received him with expressions of profound obsequiousness, moved a chair for him in a show of respect for his rank, years, and portliness; he sat down by the open door. Andrei Gavrilovich stood leaning against the wall. A profound silence ensued, and the secretary in a ringing voice began to read the decision of the court. We insert it here in full,2 supposing that everyone will be pleased to see one of the means by which we in Russia can be deprived of an estate, to the ownership of which we have an indisputable right.
