"On the ruins of the count"

A curly blond head peeped out of the grass, two bright blue eyes, and an angry whisper was heard:

Valka... Valka... crawl in, you idol, on the right! Crawl in from behind, otherwise he w-w-ut.

The dense burdocks stirred, and from their swaying tops one could guess that someone was carefully crawling along the ground.

Suddenly the blond head of the hunter again emerged from the grass. A fired arrow whistled and, with a dull thump on the boards of a rotten fence, fell.

A large, fat cat rushed frightened to the roof of the crooked bathhouse and promptly disappeared through the attic window.

Du-urak... Oh, you! - indignantly, the hunter said to his comrade rising from the ground. - I told you to crawl. It would be convenient in the back, but now, bite it ... When you follow him again.

I would crawl myself, Yashka. There are nettles, and I burned myself twice.

- "Nettle"! When on the hunt, then there is no time for nettles. You should have laid out a rug.

And when she burns!

So you endure. Why, then, do I endure ... Do you want me to tear it off with my bare hand and not even blink? Woo, you think?

Yashka wiped his wet hand, pulled out a large nettle bush, and, opening his eyes unnaturally wide, asked triumphantly:

Well, did you blink? Oh, you nurse.

I'm not a nurse at all, - Valka answered offendedly. I can too, but I don't want to.

And you want ... Well, it's weak to want?

Valka's freckled snub-nosed face turned red; he could not accept the challenge now.

He went up to the nettle, hesitated, but, feeling the mocking look of his comrade on him, jerked out the big, old nettle. His lips trembled, his eyes watered; however, trying to force a smile, he said, stuttering a little:

And I didn't blink either.

Right! - Yashka agreed in a pure way. If you didn't blink, then you didn't blink. Only I still grabbed in the middle, and you under the spine, and under the spine she had a weaker sting. Well, yes, that's fine! You know? Come on, let's go to the yard, the girls are playing there, and we'll make a fuss for them.

Is mother at home?

No. She went to the station to sell milk. There is no one at home.

In the yard near the fence, homely and chattering like magpies, two girls covered a broken chair and stool with an old blanket and, leaning out of their hut, affably called out to two other girls:

Please come visit! Today we have jam pies. Come in, please!

But as soon as the guests decorously went to the call, the hostesses of the hut looked at each other in fright:

The boys are coming!

Yashka and Valka approached slowly, calmly, this time giving no indication of their true intentions.

Are you playing? asked Yashka.

W-ear-baby! Why are you climbing? We don’t interfere with you, ”Nyurka, Yashkin’s sister, said whiningly.

Why should we leave? - Yashka asked even softer. We'll take a look and move on. This is what you have? And he pointed at the blanket.

This is our home, - answered Nyurka, somewhat puzzled by such an unusually peaceful approach.

Do-om? Are houses built out of blankets? Houses are built of logs or bricks. You would have dragged bricks from the Grafsky and built a strong one, but if you push this one a little, it will crumble.

And Yashka touched the stool with his foot, which caused considerable panic among the inhabitants of the hut.

OK. Where is your pie?

Here, - anxiously following every movement of Yashka, Nyurka answered.

Here are some fools! All of them are not human. The house is made of a blanket, and the pies are made of clay. Come on, eat one pie, come on, bite. Uh... don't you want to? You treat people with such rubbish, but you don’t want to yourself ... Valka, let's stuff all their pies into their mouths. They baked themselves, let them eat.

I-a-a-shka! - hopelessly-dreary in one voice tightened the girls. - I-a-shka ... u-go away, hu-li-i-ga-an.

Ah... you still swear! Valka, attack this bandit's nest!

The threat of defeat and reprisals had just hung over the peaceful inhabitants of the hut, when suddenly Yashka felt that someone had firmly taken him from behind by the tuft.

The girls, as if on cue, stopped howling. Yashka turned around and saw Valka's heels disappearing behind the fence, and the angry face of his mother, who had returned from the station.

March home! cried his mother, giving him a slap. - Look, a robber, and his games are robbery ... Look, what Petliura turned up! Just wait, your father will come - he will show you how to lead!

Yashka's father is old - already fifty-four years old. He serves as a watchman in the council, and earlier he was the count's gardener.

During the revolution, the count fled with his family. The old manor was plundered by the peasants in the heat of the moment. It was not known, it was clear that the estate could come in handy. In the confusion, someone either on purpose or accidentally set it on fire. And all the wooden inside of the stone estate burned out. Only the walls are now sticking out, and even those have collapsed in many places. And there was no trace of greenhouses left. During the civil war, the windows were shattered by cannon fire, and the wood rotted.

Previously, at least there was a road past, but since the construction of a new bridge across the Green River, the estate has remained completely aloof. And it stands on the edge, above the ravine, like a tombstone monument to the old regime.

Yashka's father, Nefedych, returned today at all kind, because there was a paycheck. And on payday, every person, of course, is kind, and therefore, when the mother began to complain about Yashka that she was not on good terms with him, the father answered conciliatoryly:

Nothing, in the fall he will go to school again, then the nonsense will fly out of his head for learning.

It's still a long time until autumn. He's completely spoiled. What do you care, but I have it in front of my eyes.

Yashka sat silently, with his head buried in his plate, and made no excuses.

This silence irritated the mother even more, and she, plumping a pot of porridge and pork on the table, continued:

No good will come out of a boy like that. The little ones went too ... Today I'm walking from the station, I look - in a haystack, near the path, something is tossing and turning. Isn't our little pig running in? .. She came up, looked, and just died. A mug protrudes from there, black, shaggy, all as it is in soot. There is a cigarette in the mouth, and in the hand of a rogul with rubber, and in the rubber there is a pebble. A boy of thirteen years old, and terrible - no strength. I’m back, and he whistles like that, and whistles that way, which already rang in my ears.

At these words, Yashka became alert, and Nefedych neatly folded the newspaper and said:

In the council, we had a conversation about this very thing. They say that some homeless person showed up in our town. And why he was brought to us is incomprehensible to the mind. Our place is small, off-site, with only a branch from the main line. We argued - why not catch him? So again - where are you going to put it? It is impossible to go to court, as long as no misconduct has been noticed behind him. We don’t have a homeless home, and sending it to the city is a fuss. The secretary said that he must be homeless and would soon run away himself, because he was not interested in our place: neither the public at the station, nor the crowd on the street - there was no one to steal a wallet from his pocket.

He rushed to the fence of Valka's garden and almost collided head-on with Valka climbing towards him.

And I, brother, what do I know! - said, taking a breath, Yashka.

No, you better listen to what I know.

What can you know about! You know about the uninteresting, and I about the interesting.

No, I know about the most interesting thing.

I know what interesting things you know about. Probably about who threw our dive into the canal? So this is it, but I know!

You know nothing. Well, let's bet: if you know it's more interesting, I'll give you two soldered arrows, and if I'm more interesting, then you give me ... a knife.

Look how clever you are! .. The knife is almost new, it has only one blade broken, and more than half of the second is left ... Do you want me to give you a cartridge?

What is he to me? I have three of mine.

So you have empty ones, and I will give unshot ladies; if you throw him into a fire in the forest, he will die like that.

OK. Chur - yes! Speak. And then you will see that mine takes, and you will say that you know the same thing about it, so as not to give it away.

So then how?

Both boys stood, thinking, then Yashka clicked his tongue and said:

That's how! There is a nail on you and scribble it on the fence about what you have, and then I will scribble it in another place, it will already be without deceit.

Both of them puffed for a long time, crossing out crooked letters.

A minute later they were both laughing.

Yes, we are talking about the same thing. Only I have it written "about a stray", and you have "about a stray raider." Why, however, is he a raider?

Or maybe they will ask where, - doubting the words of a comrade, Yashka said, - or they will steal apples from the orchards, so they eat them.

Well, they will "ask"! You will say too ... But who will give such a terrible one? No, you believe me, that the raider. Simka Petukhov met him today. Simka says that as soon as he jumps out of the pit near the brick sheds and shouts: "Spread everything you have," while he himself waves a weight; and the weight is heavy - ten pounds.

How about ten?

By God, ten. Simka barely leaked. He would, he says, enter into battle with him, but he was without a weapon, a stick - and that was not at hand.

Or maybe he's lying, Simka? What to steal from him? I myself saw through the window how he ran past. He was wearing only knee-length pants, and he didn’t even have a shirt.

The last argument confused Valka somewhat, but, not wanting to give up, he answered evasively:

I don’t know why, but only raiders always start a conversation with such words, it’s already such a habit with them.

Valka! - said, after a little thought, Yashka. - And what about now ... boys? Come on, everyone's going to freak out.

Definitely shattered. A little evening, go, and they will be afraid to go out the gate.

I... - Valka smiled proudly. - I what! I myself ... today I will sharpen a penknife and tie it to my belt on a twine under my shirt. So I will walk like a Circassian. Let him just try to get in!

And I'll take a nalobok, with which they play in the pits. He is strong and oaky. Come tomorrow morning under the window and call me. Yes, just don’t yell, like yesterday, at the top of your lungs, so that the mother even jumped out of bed - she thought, said that it was a fire or some kind of flash.

No... I'm quiet.

Valka ... - Yashka asked before leaving. - And why are they so black? .. As the mother says, worse than the devil.

Because they spend the night under bridges or in boilers.

Why in boilers? - Yashka was even more surprised. - What is the interest in the boiler to spend the night?

Which? Valka thought. - And such that if you put him in bed, then he cannot even close his eyes, but it is necessary that he be in a cauldron. It's their nature.

In the following week there was considerable talk and gossip among the boys of the shtetl. This stray, apparently, actually turned out to be a real robber.

For example, on the night from Saturday to Sunday, Aunt Pelageya's garden turned out to be completely cleared of apples. In the priest's house, glass is shattered to smithereens by a stone that has flown in from nowhere. And what is even worse - the goat disappeared from Sychikha. That is, all the nooks and crannies were searched, all the wastelands, but there is no goat and no ...

Yashka understood everything. Well, apples, let's say, in reserve. In the glass with a stone - just for mischief. Well, what about the goat? Neither the skin from it, nor the meat is not eaten.

Zhru-u-ut! Valka confirmed enthusiastically. - Ordinary people do not eat, but they eat everything as it is. Such is their nature.

What did you mutter to me, - Yashka got angry, - nature and nature! In your opinion, maybe they eat raw materials.

And raw materials and everything! - Valka began to assure with even greater excitement. - Simka told me that when he was in the city, he saw such a thing! There is a merchant with a basket, and the homeless swooped in ... once ... once, and nothing was left of her.

From a merchant?

Yes, not from a merchant, but from a basket, with rolls there or with pies.

So after all, this is a pie - a pie, it is delicious, otherwise a goat - pah!

Valka looked around, went closer to his comrade, and said in a mysterious whisper:

Yashka! And Styopka is following us. Honestly. I went to the "Count". All of a sudden it made me turn around. I took a closer look. I look, Styopka's head sticks out from behind the bushes and looks intently at me like that. I deliberately took it and turned a ravine towards a wasteland, and from there home.

Well, no, not by accident. That way he looks and looks. And I look - a bush swayed nearby ... it must have been someone else from their party sitting there.

So you weren't there?

How is he hungry?

Nothing, last time they brought him a lot of bread and water too. Will live until tomorrow. And tomorrow we will go either early in the morning, or later in the evening, when the boys are more inconspicuous. Wow, how carefully one must act, otherwise they will cover! There are two of us and four of them. If only we could at least make someone else to ourselves.

Whom to befriend? You make him friends today, and tomorrow he will blurt out all of them. And then what? Then they will surely kill him.

Definitely will be killed.

Returning home, Yashka ran into his inveterate enemy Styopka behind the gardens.

The meeting was unexpected for both. But the opponents noticed one another from afar, and therefore, without losing their dignity, it was impossible to turn aside.

Approaching three steps, the enemies stopped and silently, carefully examined one another. Styopka had a stick - therefore, the advantages were on his side. Looking around, Styopka contemptuously and skillfully spat on the grass. Yashka whistled no less contemptuously.

What are you whistling?

And what are you spitting about?

I'll whistle to you! Why are you hunting our cat with arrows?

And let him not climb into someone else's garden. When our Wolf ran into your yard, why did you throw bricks at him?

Where did you take Wolf? You're lying that someone poisoned him. You yourself hid him somewhere, because we sued him for strangled chickens. Only you won't fool us... Wait a minute, we'll get to the bottom of you soon!

Four for two, found!

Oh, and cowards! "Four"! Vaska was also counted when he was only nine years old.

So what, nine. He's as fat as a boar... and you're all pigs.

The last remark seemed so insulting that Styopka grabbed a clay ball from the ground and launched it at Yashka with all his might.

And if the bloody duel was not destined to take place, and if Yashka did not fall on the battlefield at the hands of a better armed enemy, then only because this latter suddenly screamed wildly and without looking back rushed to run.

Assuming that he was scared, Yashka issued a war cry - and was about to pursue the enemy, when he suddenly heard a soft laugh behind him.

He turned around and immediately understood the real reason for Styopka's hasty disappearance.

Near the elderberry bush stood a short black boy dressed in rags, in which Yashka easily guessed the storm of all the boys of the town, the hero of recent events - a homeless raider.

And immediately Yashka realized that he was dead completely and irrevocably. He wanted to run, but his legs would not obey him. He wanted to scream, but realized that it was useless because there was no one around. Then, determined to defend himself desperately, he took a defensive stance.

The boy in rags continued to laugh, and this laughter confused Yashka even more.

What are you? he asked, moving his tongue with difficulty.

Nothing, he answered. - What are you, like roosters, - they ran into each other?

The little boy parted the bushes and found himself next to Yashka.

"Now the weight will be taken out," he thought with horror and took a step back.

However, instead of attacking Yashka, the stray fell on the grass and, clapping his hand on the ground, said:

Why did you stand up like a pillar. Sit down.

Yashka sat down. The homeless man put his hand in his pocket and, to Yashka's great amazement, took out a small living sparrow and raised it to his mouth.

Will you eat it? - Yashka exclaimed indignantly.

The homeless man raised his small bright green eyes inquiringly to Yashka, breathed warmth on the little sparrow and answered:

Do they eat sparrows? They don't eat sparrows, and they don't eat jackdaws either. Pigeon - that's another story. Dove if baked in coals - delicious! I hit them with a slingshot.

He thrust the sparrow into the bosom of a woman's tattered katsaveyka and, holding out a half-smoked cigarette to Yashka, suggested:

Come on, smoke it.

Mechanically, Yashka took a cigarette butt and, not knowing where to put it, asked timidly:

Why did you eat the goat?

Goat ... Sychinny. Our guys say that you put him on the grub.

The homeless man clapped his hands on his sides and laughed loudly. And while he was laughing, the numbness began to leave Yashka, and the homeless man presented himself to him in a completely different light. Yashka laughed himself, then jumped up and shook his hand, because the burnt cigarette butt painfully burned his fingers.

Calming down, they moved closer to each other.

What's your name? - asked the stray.

Me Yashka. And you?

And me Dergach.

Why Dergach?

Why are you Yashka?

Here's another thing to say too. Jacob was such a saint, and they celebrate name days. And such a saint, so that ... Dergach, there should not be ...

And I don't care that I shouldn't.

And me, - Yashka admitted after a little thought. “Only if you say that in front of your mother, it will be by the ear.” Father, that’s okay, he himself doesn’t love passion like saints - supposedly they are all parasites. And mother - wow! About something else, but about this and do not give a hint. Once I poured oil from a lamp - Lubricate the wolf's bruised paw, so it was something ...

Beaty? - Dergach asked sympathetically.

So, it was necessary, - he answered and took a deep breath.

This heavy, bitter sigh, behind which, it seemed, something big, unspoken, was hidden, for some reason, it was as if it had enveloped Yashka with warmth.

Let's be friends, Dergach? - unexpectedly for himself sincerely offered Yashka. - I'll take you with Valka - with my friend. Good... just lies a lot. And then ... - Here Yashka hesitated. - Then we'll tell you an interesting thing. And what fun it will be to live, Dergach.

The jerk didn't answer. He lay, exposing his face to the reflections of the crimson, fading horizon. And it seemed to Yashka that Dergach was deeply saddened by something unchildish.

However, noticing Yashka's gaze on him, Tergach quickly turned around and said, getting up:

Tomorrow get some shag from your father... and bring it here, otherwise it's all grown up... I'll be waiting here about this time.

And without saying goodbye, he parted the bushes and disappeared, leaving Yashka to think about a strange meeting and a strange new comrade.

It's quiet at home. The coals crackle in the samovar. Yashka is cutting a wooden plank. Nefedych went deep into reading. From behind an unfolded sheet of newspaper, his red forehead is visible, damp from the fifth glass of tea. Nyurka is making a doll hat. Mother is busy in the kitchen.

No mom!

Well, this idol must have knocked over.

"This idol", that is, Yashka, sits and puffs, stroking the board, and pretends that the conversation does not concern him.

Are they telling you? Did you overturn? - angrily repeats the mother.

Yashka, reluctantly and not looking up from work, answers:

If I, Mom, knocked it over, everything would be on the floor, and since the floor is dry, it means I didn’t knock it over.

And the dog will pick you up! - even more irritated mother. - That one did not take, this one did not overturn, what is it, dried up, or what? Father! Get off your newspaper! Who, it turns out, took something?

Nefedych unhurriedly folds up the newspaper and, obviously hearing only the end of the phrase, answers incoherently:

Indeed ... And who would have thought. Again they took it, but how cleverly that you can’t dig under it.

Who are they? Who needs this sour soup?

Yes, not soup ... what soup? - Nefedych answers, looking around in confusion and annoyed. - I say, the conservatives sculpted power again.

Convinced that no one would get any sense, the mother spat and began to rattle the dishes. And Nefedych, who felt a desire to talk, continued:

And it would seem that their time has passed. But no, they are still getting out. Let's say, for example, our count. His estate was set on fire, and he wanders around abroad somewhere. And all, come on, dreams of how to return the old. Yes, and do not dream! Take, for example, the estate - what was life to him there? The picture - what's inside, then outside. Some greenhouses were worth something. And what was there just not there - and orchids, and tulips, and roses, and strawberries for Christmas ... The palm tree was even huge, more than two fathoms. Specially from the Caucasus, from near Batum, they were discharged. I tell him: "Your Excellency, where are we going to put such a colossus - this whole greenhouse will have to be broken!" And he replies: "Nothing, you plant it directly in the ground, and every year, by the time of cold weather, make a special glass building near it, and we will dismantle it again by spring." Well, they figured it out. It was a beautiful palm tree. Then the count gave me twenty-five rubles for leaving ... just in May.

Here's another crazy, old. But did we have a wedding in May? The wedding was played just after the Trinity.

I don’t know if it was after the Trinity or after what, but only in May we planted the Levkoy at that time.

What are you telling me! - suddenly irritated, as always, says the mother. - Look at the metrics, they lie behind the shrine.

I have nothing to watch. I remember that. Even then, the senior barchuk had just arrived from the cadet corps for the holidays and the photographer was filming him under a palm tree. I still have this card somewhere ... Yashka, did I show you this card?

I saw it a hundred times, - Yashka replies.

Mother, indignant, clasps her hands and climbs for metrics for the goddess.

She can't find the paper she needs for a long time. During this time, her ardor cools somewhat, for, having estimated in her mind, she begins to recall that the Trinity in the year when the wedding took place, as if it really was early and fell on May. But here her attention is diverted by another circumstance.

No mom!

Father! Surely you didn't touch the candles?

I haven't touched it for twenty-five years, - Nefedych dutifully confirms. - I haven't touched it since the day of the wedding itself.

And I saw them last week. Where did they go? Probably Yashka stuck it somewhere again.

Yashka, since the question is not addressed directly to him, continues to silently snuffle over the blackboard.

Yashka! You bastard must have worn out the candles?

Yashka finishes his work, puts the knife on the table and answers seriously, but at the same time looking a little slyly at his mother:

We, mothers, had electricity by Lenin’s order, so it’s light for me with him and without your candles.

So where do they go? Here are some other amazing things! No one poured out the borscht, no one took the candles, and there was nothing in place. What are you going to do with them!

In the early morning, when everyone was still sleeping in the house, Yashka's blond whirlwinds leaned out of the window. Seeing Valka impatiently waiting near the fence, Yashka jumped onto the damp grass, and both boys disappeared into the raspberries. A minute later they emerged from there, and Yashka carefully carried a large clay pot, tied in a dirty rag.

Having got out of the gardens, the guys quickly rushed along the path leading past the bushes and ravines to the ruins of the "Count".

On the way, Yashka talked about yesterday's meeting:

And he doesn’t have a weight at all, and he has a sparrow in his pocket ... and they don’t eat goats, and all this boys lie out of fear. And today we will go to him together. If he becomes friends with us, he will stop us from Styopka's company. He is strong, and he does not care. And then, if he inflates anyone, then there is no one to complain about him, and a little something about us - and to his mother.

Why is he homeless? So, for his own interest or for his family, does he have anyone?

I don't know! I haven't asked yet, but I don't think it's just for curiosity's sake: homeless people have a hard life, after all. When I grow up, I study, I go to a factory or somewhere else to serve, but where will he go? There is nowhere for him to go.

The grove greeted the boys with the morning noise, the fervent hubbub of the whistling birds and the warm steamy smell of drying grass.

Here are the ruins - silent, majestic. There is emptiness in the gaps of the dark windows. The old walls smell of mold. At the main entrance there is a huge pile of rubble from a collapsed column. In some places young bushes made their way along the cornices gnawed by winds and rains.

Having dived into a crack in the stone fence and made their way through a thicket of weeds and sagebrush that reached their shoulders, the guys stopped in front of a continuous curtain of wildly growing wild ivy. An outsider's eye would not have seen any passage here, but the guys quickly and confidently climbed the half-rotted trunk of a fallen linden tree, parted the leaves, and a window opening opened in front of them, leaving a narrow, well-like room without a roof.

Climbing the stairs, they found themselves already in a large room on the second floor, from the windows of which one could see a piece of the Green River and a path leading to the town.

From here they got to the balcony, went straight to the roof, further down through the dormer window. It was completely dark here, because this room had apparently served as a pantry, and iron shutters with rusty bolts firmly closed the windows.

Yashka rummaged around somewhere with his hand. He took out a stub of a gilded wedding candle with a bow and lit it.

An iron door appeared in the corner. Having reached it, Valka pulled the bracket.

The rusty hinges wept bitterly, creaked, and the children found themselves in a large semi-basement with narrow windows overlooking the surface of a pond swollen with algae.

And immediately, in greeting to the boys, a cheerful, fervent screech was heard from the corner.

Wolf, Little Wolf, Little Wolf! the guys shouted, rushing to the dog tied by the collar. - Missed ... hungry. Look, all, as it is, to the crust, he ate bread, and there was not a bit of water in the trough.

The wolf wagged its tail, squealing, while it was being untied. Then he jumped up and down near the pot, managed to lick Yashkin's cheek and almost knocked Valka off his feet, putting his paws on his back.

But you wait, you fool... let me untie the pot... Well, go on - burst.

The dog quickly plunged its muzzle into the sour borscht and began to lap up greedily.

The basement was dry and spacious. In the corner lay a large armful of withered grass.

Here was the secret shelter of the children who hid here the criminal strangler of other people's chickens - the Wolf dog.

Waiting for the Wolf to get enough, the guys fell on a bunch of grass and began to discuss the situation.

It is difficult to get food, - said Yashka. - Wow, how difficult! Mother even missed borscht yesterday. And the Wolf is growing all the time... Look, he has already devoured almost everything. Well, where can you get enough of him!

Me too, - Valka assented dejectedly. - Mother saw once how I was dragging crusts, let's swear. She just didn't know why. I thought that the crooked carrier should be changed for steamed pears. What to do now? Can't be released yet?

No, not yet. Soon the court will be about Stepka's chickens. Mother is called, and I am a witness.

Can they go to jail?

Well, go to jail! Money, they will say, let's go for the chickens. And where do you get them, money. And what do they need money for, they are already rich, there is a shop in the bazaar.

The wolf came up, licking his lips, and lay down beside him, resting his big eared head on Yashka's knees.

They lay down silently.

Yashka, - Valka asked, - and why, in your opinion, a sort of dominatrix?

Yes, huge. If you go around it all ... well, let's say, at least look into every room, and then half a day is needed. And why did the counts have such houses? After all, there used to be a hundred rooms here?

Well, not a hundred, but sixty - that's what my dad said. The counts have every room for a special one. In one they sleep, in another they eat, the third for guests, in the fourth for dancing.

And for everything separately?

For everything. They cannot live in such a way that, for example, a room and a kitchen. My dad told me that they even had a separate room for fish. They let fish into a sort of huge vat, and then they sit and fish with fishing rods.

Oh you! And big ones are caught?

Which ones are let in, they are caught, even by the pood.

Valka squeezed his eyes shut sweetly, imagining a pound carp being dragged out, then asked:

Have you ever seen, Yashka, live counts?

No, Yashka admitted. - I was only three years old when they were all wiped out. I saw it on a card. Dad has one. There is a palm tree on it - such a tree, and next to it there is a graph, so older than me, and in uniform, like white ones, he is called a cadet. And so squishy. If someone would give such a scruff on the back of the neck, then he would pile it in his pants.

And who would give?

Yes, well, at least I.

You ... - Here Valka respectfully looked at Yashka. - You're so healthy. And if I would give, then heaped?

You ... - Yashka, in turn, looked at the frail figure of his comrade, thought and answered: - I would have piled it anyway. Old Man says that the counts will never stand against the common people.

What fruit grows on a palm tree? Tasty?

Did not eat. It must be delicious if it's on a palm tree. This is not an apple tree for you, it costs a thousand rubles.

Valka closed his eyes, licking his lips:

That would be a bite, Yashka! At least a little bit ... otherwise you will live your whole life and not bite even once.

I will bite. I will grow up, enroll in the Komsomol, and from there to the sailors. And sailors travel to different countries and see everything, and they have all sorts of adventures. Do you like, Valka, adventures?

I love. Only to stay alive, otherwise there are adventures from which you can die.

And I love all kinds. I love passion like heroes! There, the armless Panfil-Budyonnovets has an order. When he talks about the past, it's breathtaking.

But how, Yashka, to become a hero?

Panfil says that for this it is necessary to persecute the whites mercilessly and not give up before them.

And if the Reds drive?

And if it’s red, then you yourself are white, and I’ll crack you on the bowler hat, then you won’t talk.

Valka blinked his eyes in fear.

So I did it on purpose. Am I for the whites? Just ask Pioneer Mishka.

I didn’t really like it in the school detachment, ”Yashka said a little later. - Here in other detachments, at least for the summer, they go to the camps, to the forest. And there are more girls in school. And all the poems are taught there, about school and about learning. I looked like, looked like and stopped. What kind of poems can be in the summer! In the summer it is necessary to catch fish, or let a snake in, or walk away.

And I was not accepted into the school squad at all. Seryozhka Kuchnikov complained about me, as if I had shattered pears at Semenikh's. He turned out to be such a sneak, and when last year he accidentally broke a window at the Gavrilovs with a snowball, he did not confess, but they thought Shurka was his mother and tore it out. Is it good to do that too?

Nothing! By winter, the sawmill will start working again, and we will sign up for the local detachment. There are funny guys. There, if they fight sometimes, then nothing. Well, they fought - they made peace. Is it possible for boys to do without it? And in the school detachment - a little something - they immediately discuss it!

Yashka spat angrily and got up:

Need to go. You sit still, and I'm upstairs - I run to the Wolf for water.

Yashka returned ten minutes later. His face was worried.

Look, he said, holding out his hand.

Well, what to look at? Cigarette...

How did he get into the upper room?

So, maybe it's a long-standing one, - Valka suggested uncertainly. - Maybe it's still left from the old regime.

Well, no, not from the old one. It says "2nd state factory" on it.

Then, then, it means that Stepkin's guys were already snooping on top. I know that Seryozhka Smirnov secretly smokes with them.

Of course they are, - Yashka agreed. But then he looked at the cigarette butt, on which the "Highest Grade" was stamped in gold, shook his head and said: - But why would Seryozhka Smirnov suddenly light up such expensive cigarettes?

The boys looked at each other in bewilderment. Then they tied the Wolf tightly, ordered him to be silent, And, quickly getting out, they ran home.

The jerk puffed on the smoke of a cigarette rolled from shag brought by Yashka, and, poking his finger at Valka, asked:

So he told you that I ate a goat? He will say too! The goat is still lying in the ravine - he broke his leg. I gave him another piece of grass so that he would not die of hunger.

Dergach, - Yashka asked after some hesitation, - where do you live?

The jerk chuckled.

I live by myself. Where I stumble at night, there I wake up in the morning.

Do you have relatives?

Yes, go far.

Yashka, bewildered by this manner of answering, said reproachfully:

And why are you, Dergach, snapping! We're not interrogating you, but if I ask, it's out of friendship.

Tergach still looked incredulously at the guys from under his brows and answered evasively:

And who knows, whether out of friendship, or why. I once lived in Rostov under the bridge. Some kind of whip sat next to me. A sort of same, like me, rip rip. He treated me to sausage, gave me a cigarette. Well, then and there, and began to ask about my life. I foolishly take it and tell him. And how I got lost from my father and mother during the famine years, and what kind of province, what locality, how I live. He even told me about the case of how the butcher shop was robbed. About three days later, Cartilage himself comes up to me like a slap on the neck! And he pokes a newspaper in my face. "You, he says, what is the language dismissed ?!" And I know how to read. I looked at the newspaper and gasped. Mother honest! Every word that I said was printed in the newspaper - both the nickname, and the name, and where I came from, and, most importantly, about the butcher shop. It's great then Cartilage beat me for it.

We won't publish it in a newspaper, - Valka spoke up, fearfully pushing such an accusation away from himself. We won't even print a single line. I have never even seen how they print it, and he did not see it either.

Dergach lay on his back and thought about something. So, at least, Yashka decided, because when a person lies, staring at the starry sky with his eyes, he cannot help but think.

Dergach, - Yashka asked unexpectedly, - and who is he to you?

What "he"?

At the mention of this name, Tergach somehow twitched all over, quickly turned around and asked, perplexed and embittered:

What else Cartilage?

Yes, you just talked about it.

Ah... did you say? - again turning on his back, Dergach said absently. - So... one person... Wow, and a person! Here Dergach got up, leaning on his elbows, his face twisted, and, throwing a cigarette butt, he added caustically: - Wow, and a scoundrel ... wow, and a bandit!

Real? - Valka asked, opening his eyes wide with surprise and inquisitiveness, and added with undisguised regret: - But I didn’t see anything - neither a living count, nor a real bandit.

Dergach shrugged contemptuously.

And I saw the Count.

Of course, not dead.

Valka, as always in moments of excitement, screwed up his eyes and, imbued with involuntary respect for the beggar, said with poorly concealed envy:

And you are happy, Dergach, that you saw everything.

Tergach looked at Valka in surprise, perhaps even angrily:

Wow, if you had such happiness, you would howl then, like a cow in front of a wolf! No, don’t give anyone such happiness ... Oh, if only I ... - Then Tergach waved his hand and fell silent.

And again it seemed to Yashka that Dergach had some great, unspoken grief in his soul. And not knowing, in fact, why, he put his hand on Tergach's shoulder and said:

Nothing, Dergach! Maybe everything will work out somehow.

Twitch recoiled, but meeting the eyes of the boy’s seriously friendly gaze, he bowed his head slightly and answered in a kind of muffled voice:

It would be nice if everything worked out, but I just don’t know.

And from that evening, a thread of inexplicably strong friendship stretched between Yashka and Dergach.

Dergach's idea was downright brilliant. Initiated into the mystery of the boys and their difficulties with the delivery of food to the Wolf, he quickly found a way out.

At dawn one could see Yashka and Valka in the garden, near the old bathhouse. They hurriedly carried out a large cast-iron cauldron, in which mother usually diluted lye for washing clothes.

The fact that the guys did not drag the cauldron across the yard, but threw it straight over the fence to the kitchen gardens, showed that all this was being done without the knowledge of the household.

Having got out on the path, the boys grabbed the boiler by the handles and hurriedly disappeared into the bushes.

If you traced their further path, you could see them running past the garbage dump and disappearing into the failure of a deep desert ravine. It was quiet and windless here, only the buzzing of clumsy bumblebees and the incessant rumble of cheerful grasshoppers filled the morning silence.

The guys stopped to rest.

Well, we did it well! After all, it was necessary to pull out such a colossus. And in the evening we will drag it back again, and everything will be covered up.

In the evening it will be more difficult, Yashka, there will be more people.

Nothing, we'll manage somehow! Well, let's go.

They turned into one of the innumerable branches of the ravine and soon saw the smoke of a fire and Tergach, busily hosting near the fire.

Twitch held a knife in his hand and wiped the bloodied blade with a bunch of damp grass. Nearby lay a freshly flayed goat skin and a carcass cut into pieces.

And I already thought that you would not come, - said Dergach to the approaching guys. - Look how I cut the meat. Now the Wolf will have enough for a week. It is only necessary to boil it stronger and swell more salt so that it does not deteriorate. Well, let's get to work, quick!

Dergach disposed of skillfully and confidently. Valka was sent to collect brushwood. Yashka hammered in the racks for the boiler with a stone, and Dergach himself cleaned the crossbar from branches.

Guys! - Valka said excitedly, throwing a huge pile of brushwood on the ground. - And how many lizards are below! There are huge ones, let's catch them later.

You can catch it later, but now let's throw it up, kindle the fire.

The flame, furiously devouring the dry foliage of the thrown up branches, shot up high and blazed with warmth on the faces of the boys, already flushed.

Pieces of meat were placed in a cauldron filled with water from a nearby stream, and almost a pound of salt was poured out.

So... done now. With her, the Wolf will get so fat that he will soon become a calf.

They all fell on the grass. The sun has already dried the dew. It smelled of mint, wormwood and honey.

They lay silently at first. High in the sky, carefree, happy larks rang, and somewhere far away, a herd driven out to the meadows bellowed.

Valka! - Yashka said lazily, without turning his head. - I found a card... Well, what a card! With the palm tree I promised to show you.

Come on.

Valka got up, examining the faded photograph, and his face assumed a somewhat disappointed expression.

Well! I saw a kind of palm tree in a tavern through the window, but I didn’t know what a palm tree was called. And the count is so-so, some kind of fidgety, only the nose protruded forward with a hook and a square chin.

It's all like that in their family. Old Man said that their entire family had such noses, like hawks, it just so happened by inheritance.

Come on, I'll take a look! - said Tergach, basking in the sun.

He raised the photographic card to his eyes and at the same moment let out a little cry and quickly rolled over.

Serpent! - jumping up in fright, squealed Valka.

Yashka jumped too.

But Dergach did not move, grabbed the photograph with both hands and greedily glared at it with his eyes.

Where is the snake? What are you lying, fool? - Yashka got angry with Valka. - I'll give you a slap so that you know how to scare.

Valka blinked his eyes guiltily.

So is it me! This is Dergach ... why did he turn around like a stung.

Yashka looked at Dergach with surprise. His face was agitated, and his eyes shone.

Who is it? - asked Dergach, pointing to the card.

This... this is the count here... that is, the son of the counts. They were defeated in the revolution. And where we hide the Wolf - this was their estate.

For a long time - almost the whole day - the children were busy in the ravine. They collected branches, played peg, caught four lizards below and tied them amusingly in a rag.

They had just finished cooking the goat meat, when Valka, who had found wild raspberries on top, rolled down head over heels.

Guys, - he whispered excitedly, - Styopka, Mishka and Petka are walking along the path from the forest ... they must have gone for mushrooms. Here's to covering them!

No, - answered Yashka, overcoming the desire to beat off his sworn enemies. - If the two of us jump out, they will stuff us, because there are more of them. And if with Dergach, then they will find out and tell everyone that we are at one with him.

Let me go alone, - Tergach suggested fervently, and, grabbing a stick, he, like a lizard, began to make his way upstairs.

Valka and Yashka climbed to the edge of the ravine and, sticking their heads out a little, prepared to observe, and in extreme cases, no matter what, come to the aid of a comrade.

Twitch stopped behind a bush By the path and began to guard. As soon as Stepkin's company approached, Tergach came out and, slightly spreading his legs, blocked their way.

Such an unexpected appearance of a dangerous opponent made the boys dumbfounded. But, realizing at once that there were three of them and he alone, they decided to defend themselves.

Drop the cart! - Shouted Tergach defiantly.

Instead of answering, Styopka put down the basket and leaned over the stone; the other two did the same.

Ah, so that's how you are! Tergach shouted angrily, and, whistling deafeningly, he rushed at the enemies with a raised stick.

Blood! someone suddenly shouted in horror, seeing Tergach's red hands.

And, probably assuming that the terrible Tergach had just committed a bloody massacre on some traveler, all three, without waiting for the same fate to befall them, rushed to flee in a panic, pursued by the mocking whistle of Tergach.

I saw, - Valka yelled admiringly, - how he is one for three! Ouch! Ouch! How good, Yashka, that we became friends with Dergach! - And Valka, besides himself with delight, began to ride on the grass.

Twitch went down to the fire, silently threw the captured basket and lay down again.

How cool are you! - said Yashka, sitting down next to him.

The jerk smiled slightly, waved his hand, as if to say that it was not worth talking about such a trifle, and again, taking out the photograph, began to examine it. Yashka poured the mushrooms onto the grass, and threw the old basket into the fire.

Why are you?

You can’t return home with their basket, they can find out. And then we will pour the mushrooms into an empty cauldron and steal it home, and then we will pour it into our baskets. And if the mothers begin to swear: where did you disappear to? - We will say that we went for mushrooms. Mushrooms in some ... white, birch trees are few at all.

It was getting quite dark when Dergach, having strung pieces of meat on a string, went to carry food to Grafskoe, and the guys, picking up the boiler, trudged to the house.

They safely passed the path, did not meet anyone in the gardens, and already in the garden they ran into Yashka's mother, who was watering the beds.

What are you idols doing? Where was that taking you with the cauldron? - she asked menacingly approaching.

Valka, as always in such cases, quickly set off, and Yashka was so dumbfounded that he could only answer:

We, moms, are looking for mushrooms ... we, look, what whites ...

Is it with a cauldron for mushrooms? - mother was dumbfounded. - What are you talking about!

Having received a slap, Yashka howled not so much from pain, but according to custom, and fled into the yard.

Mother went up to the cauldron, looked into it, and seeing a large pile of mushrooms, was even more perplexed:

You are my fathers! What is it? I thought he was lying about mushrooms ... but he really ... - And she helplessly spread her hands. - But only ... but where has it been seen to go through the forest with a two-pood cauldron for mushrooms ... Yes, God forbid, have they really gone crazy?

That evening, Yashka was no longer allowed out of the house. Valka turned about near his window and whistled. But from there the angry face of Yashka's mother suddenly looked out and her stern voice was heard:

I'll give you a whistle! I'll whistle to you, you little pig! I'll throw a bucket of slop on your head right now!

He took with him a "cat", that is, an anchor made of nails, suspended from a thin line, and rushed to the river.

The sun has already disappeared. Clouds of warm steam spread over the blackened river. Valka went down to an old mangled rakita, spread out near the shore overgrown with sedge, took the end of the string in his left hand, swung the "cat" with his right hand and, having marked a place, quickly threw it forward.

Water gurgled. Frightened frogs flopped from the shore. Valka pulled the end of the string - the string did not stretch.

Didn't get hooked! - he guessed and threw the "cat" a little to the right.

Aha... now there is!

His heart fluttered like a bird entangled in the bushes at night when the clumsy twigs of the diver appeared above the surface of the water.

Oh, if only a pike ... or burbot three pounds.

He snatched out a dive, raised it to his eyes, and, ignoring the trickles of water flowing down his pants, began to examine the catch:

Two roaches... three ruffs, three saiga and two crayfish.

Valka sighed disappointedly, strung the fish on a hooker. Rakov threw it into the river, threw the dive to another place and, turning the "cat", climbed up.

It was already night. The edge of a huge moon peeped out from behind the forest like a red arc. And, illuminated by her faint radiance, the ruins of the count's estate now seemed again to be a majestic, soundly sleeping castle.

But what is it? Valka jumped up, as if he had caught a snag with his foot, and dropped the kukan. One of the windows of the sleeping castle lit up from within with a faint light.

"What's that thing?" thought Valka. "Who's there?.. Aha! Yes, it's, of course, Tergach lit a candle. But why is he wandering around there? How can he, the fool, not understand what the boys can see from here and become interested! "

Valka bent down, looking for the dropped kukan. When he raised his head, there was no light in the window anymore.

And Valka was attacked by the doubt that he had mistook the lunar reflection on the accidentally preserved piece of glass for fire.

"I'll have to ask Dergach tomorrow," he decided. "If he didn't light the fire, it means that it seemed to me."

In the morning, Yashka was dressed up in new pants, a festive shirt, and from the chest the mother took out a cap that smelled of mothballs.

Mom ... but why the cap? Yashka protested. - It's not autumn or winter, and it's so hot.

Shut up! his mother interrupted. - Do you want the judge to look at you and say: wow, what a hooligan, all disheveled! Yes, I’ll give birth to a better wash. Yes, if they ask you what they will, then answer modestly and do not sniff your nose.

In court they met Styopka's mother, a shopkeeper, dressed in an old-fashioned plush jacket, and Styopka, so combed back that it seemed his eyes even sank to his forehead.

The mothers sat down in silence, without saying hello. Styopka managed to show Yashka his tongue, to which he turned his neatly folded figure in response.

Proceedings of this most complicated case on counterclaims for damages began.

The first is about the cost of three chickens strangled by a dog named "Wolf". The second is about the cost of two ducklings and a piece of boiled meat, stolen by a cat named "Scythe". At first it was impossible to understand anything. It seemed as if no one strangled the chickens, and no one dragged the meat away. Then it suddenly turned out that the chickens themselves were to blame, because they wandered into someone else's territory and tore up the beds with seedlings. And he ate the ducklings and stole the meat not from the "Slanting" cat, that Stepkin, but from "Tailless" Sychikhin, who had long had a reputation as a suspicious person engaged in dark deeds. However, the brisk Sychikha immediately swore an oath that "Tailless" was not her cat at all, but he lived in the attic of her bath without permission, taking care of his own food, and she could not bear any responsibility for him.

Witness Yakov Babushkin, - asked the judge, Yegor Semenovich, a kind old man with laughing eyes, - answer me the question: were you in the yard when the dog Volk rushed to the neighbor's chickens?

Was, - answers Yashka.

What did you do?

We ... - Yashka hesitates.

Answer ... do not be afraid, - encourages the judge.

Valka and I fired from the rogul.

From what?

From Rogul, - Yashka continues, embarrassed. - A stick with rubber, you lay a stone in it, and how it will crack!

Where will it crack? - the judge is surprised.

And where to aim, it will crack there, - Yashka explains and finally loses, hearing the rumble of restrained laughter.

So! .. And what did you do when you saw that the Wolf dog was strangling the neighbor's chickens?

So, Comrade Judge, they themselves climbed into our beds ...

I'm not talking about that! You answer what you did when you saw that the dog was strangling chickens?

We ... so when we approached, the Wolf had already run away.

Were the chickens already dead?

And who knows... maybe not dead... maybe they just died of fright.

Sit down... Witness Stepan Surkov. Is it true that your chickens wandered into someone else's garden?

They did not wander off on their own, they were deliberately lured with grain.

Why do you think you lured?

Definitely tempted. Why would they go to someone else's yard? They don't have their own, do they?

When you picked up the chickens, were they already dead?

They were completely dead ... and one of them didn’t even have a full leg. Mother carried them to the market to sell, then those two were nothing, but this third one was forced ...

Here Stepan, suddenly feeling a poke in the side from his mother, who was sitting next to him, suddenly falls silent.

But it is already late, and the judge asks sternly and in surprise:

So, you are... dead chickens. sold at the market?

Stepka's mother feels what a mistake her son made, and tries to wriggle out:

He's lying, Comrade Judge! The chickens were only bruised, but still alive; I, of course, slaughtered them and sold them.

Ta-ak! - drawling the words and squinting slyly, says the judge. - So, you say that you slaughtered your live chickens and sold them in the market ... But let me: what then can be a lawsuit about?

The hall laughs in unison, and Yashka almost squeals with pleasure. Yashka probably knows that the Wolf strangled the chickens, but after Styopka blurted out that they were sold at the market, it is impossible for Stepka's mother to claim that she sold dead chickens.

Wow! he shouts, after a while leaving the court. - Our took.

Behind, the angry shopkeeper says softly to Styopka:

Wait, we'll come home, I'll tear you out, I'll show you how to lie with your tongue! - And, turning to Yashkina's mother, she shouts angrily: - And you tell your tomboy not to be outrageous! In the morning I open the pantry, and I just died - lizards scurry all over the floor. I know who let it in from the garden through the window.

But Yashka pulls her mother by the hem and tells her convincingly:

Don't believe mom! What am I, a snake tamer, or what? I myself am afraid of all the lizards and snakes worse than death.

The previous evening, Dergach, having seized the goat meat strung on a string, set off to run to the "Count".

The basement was already dark. Twitch lit a candle and, throwing a piece of meat to the always hungry Wolf, lay down on a pile of hay and again took out a photograph.

So that's who he is! - whispered Dergach. - And I thought that it was only his nickname ... In epaulettes ... And now what a man has come to ... So, it means that this whole estate was his ...

Twitch put the card in his pocket and, putting the warm, tightly biting Wolf with him, closed his eyes.

There was dead silence under the vaults of the stone cellar. One could even hear the wolf's heart beating evenly and the reeds rustling under the window on the pond.

Dergach fell asleep. He slept soundly, but restlessly. In a dream, he saw a palm tree, and under the palm tree Yashka.

"Come here," called Yashka. And suddenly Tergach saw that it was not Yashka at all, but the formidable raider Khryashch himself was standing and beckoning him with his finger: “Well, come here, come here ... And why did you want to be a burglar *, and why did you leave the stirrup?”

* Burglar (slang) - an apartment thief.

Twitch wanted to shout, but could not; I wanted to run, but the grass covered my legs; he rushed and... opened his eyes.

The wolf stood by. You could see how greenish lights burned his eyes. Twitch stroked the dog and felt that every muscle in it was tense and tense.

What are you? - Tergach asked in a whisper and, listening, caught somewhere far above a barely audible rustle.

“These are owls chasing bats,” he thought. “Whoever comes here at night. Lie down, Wolf, lie down ... There is no one.

And, hugging the dog tightly, he lay still a little with open eyes, then fell asleep and did not wake up again until dawn.

Tergach answered Valka that he had not turned on any lights in the upper rooms. But at the same time he was so embarrassed and frowning that it did not escape the eyes of the boys.

I'm thinking of moving out of here tomorrow, - he announced quite unexpectedly.

Where to go? Why, Dergach? Do you feel bad here with us?

The jerk was silent for a while... It was evident that he hesitated and wanted to say something to the guys.

It's all there," he said with a sigh. - Look for your house. I have both a father and a mother somewhere. As there was a famine, so I got lost from them near Odessa, and now I don’t even know where they are. I think to Siberia, to the city of Barnaul, to make my way, somewhere I have an aunt - she probably knows the address of her parents. Yes, the only trouble is that I don’t know her last name, but I know that her name is Marya. Yes, I remember a little in the face.

It's hard to find one without a last name, Dergach.

Difficult, - confirmed Valka. - In, let's take at least three neighboring houses from us, and even then there are four Maryas in them, if you do not even count Manka Kurkina, who is one year old, and the goats, whose names are Mashki. And what is your father's last name, Dergach?

Elkin Pavel, and they used to call me Mitka. It was already when I involuntarily ended up in homeless children, they gave me a nickname there.

And why, Dergach, are you so suddenly about to leave?

Dergach frowned again.

And because ... - he said after some thought - that I found myself here, running away from Cartilage. We are on the main line, on a branch, we accidentally ran into him. He was there with one more, and now, according to some signs, I think that they were not heading here too.

Well, what about you? What is Cartilage to you, chief, or what?

Cartilage something? - And Tergach looked mockingly at Yashka, as if surprised at the absurdity of such a question. - If the cartilage catches me, it will definitely kill me.

What will he kill for? Is there such a law for him to kill?

They have a law.

Who - they?

The real raiders. I ran away with a stirrup, on which they put me ... And they already have such a routine that whoever leaves without permission with a stirrup must be killed, as for treason.

What is this stirrup?

How can I tell you... Well, a guard... or an observer who is posted outside the house to signal while they are robbing. So Khryashch put me in, and I ran away on purpose ... because of this, two then burned down ...

Was there a fire?

Yes, not a fire ... They burned down - that means they got caught and went to jail ... But why are you standing there with your mouths open?

It hurts wonderfully, Dergach, - Valka answered timidly. - And the story is so terrible, and the words are somehow incomprehensible ...

If you live with dogs, you will get sick yourself. And how harmful this cartilage is! How many children he has embarrassed, how many are in correctional colonies because of him! Oh, and I'm tired of this dog life! All the same, if at least I don’t find my own home, I’ll try with all my might to settle down somewhere - to the shoemaker as an apprentice or to the filing cabinet - somewhere, but I’ll stumble. What is there to say? Dergach finished and shook his shaggy head. - It's hard though, but if you want, you can still get out on a good path ... Let's stop talking about it, we'd better run to the river to catch leeches; at the Goat's ford there are scary ones; then we will swim, otherwise why think about grief ...

At home, mother said to Yashka:

And your father was looking for you. Some kind of photograph, he says, didn’t you take it.

What other photo?

Yes, ask him. He's rummaging around in the barn.

"Here's another new misfortune," thought Yashka. "And why did he need it?"

Father came out of the barn. He was covered with dust and held in his hands a pile of some yellowed papers.

Yashenka, - he said affectionately, - have you seen where the card with a palm tree is?

I saw it somewhere!

And you go bring it to me...

Well! - said Yashka and went to the rooms, but, on the way, remembering that the card was left in Dergach's pocket, he returned. - Yes, I don’t remember already, dad, where I saw her. And why did you suddenly need it?

You need it, honey! And you must remember. If you remember and bring it, I'll give you fifty kopecks.

Olti-Innik? - even Yashka blossomed. - Aren't you going to cheat?

I will definitely donate right away.

Yashka disappeared, wondering why his father decided to be so generous. It used to happen that you didn’t always get a dime on Sunday, but then all of a sudden a whole fifty kopecks at once.

He jumped out and whistled Valka.

Valka! Do you know where Dergach is?

He must be sleeping at the Wolf's. And what?

Let's run, Valka, to the Count's, I really need it. Take a card from him. Father promised, if I bring it, to give fifty kopecks.

It's already dark, Yashka. By the time we reach it, the night will come.

Well, what a night - but fifty kopecks. Tomorrow we would buy saltpeter and berthollet salt - we will make a rocket.

Well, let's run - just to one spirit. My mother went to the bath by the way.

Let's go. Yashka ran with an even, measured step, like a real runner-athlete. Valka, however, could not do without frills here. He then quickened, then reduced his step, along the way he imitated either the snorting of the motor, or the puffing of the locomotive.

Here is the turn over the river.

Well, give me a couple ... Tu-tuu! ..

And suddenly Valka the locomotive braked at full speed; stopped in his tracks and Yashka.

Valka looked in astonishment at Yashka, Yashka at Valka, then both turned their heads towards the ruins of the Count's. There could be no doubt: a fire was burning in the corner room on the second floor.

Wow! - Yashka said, coming out of his stupor. - What else is this?

I told you! I said that Dergach lit the fire. Did you see how embarrassed he was when I asked him about the fire?

But why should he stagger on top? What was he doing there? You know what, let's sneak up and see what else he's got in there.

It's scary to peep something, Yashka.

Here's what's scary! Chai, he is with us at the same time. Yes, you need a card too. Fifties are also not promised every day. Today, the father promised, and the next day he will take it and think it over.

And the two boys set off again along the path.

What a strange and quaint castle at night! Huge lindens with calm peaks almost touch the moon. The gray stone of the ruins is not always distinguishable from the night fog. And the black overgrown pond, in which the stars are reflected, seems like a deep abyss with fireflies scattered along the bottom.

How strange everything is at night, as if all things had moved from their places. Everything has to be searched first. And the old linden lies as if not where it lay, and the window overgrown with ivy is not in place.

Get in, Valka.

And now I'll just take off my shoes so that they don't creak.

Stepping quietly with bare feet along the cold stone stairs, Yashka began to make his way upstairs, intending to find out what exactly Tergach was doing there at such a late hour. He had almost reached the top step, when Valka inadvertently stepped on some kind of plank, which creaked treacherously loudly.

And immediately, to the unspeakable horror of the boys, a dull bass, which could not possibly belong to Dergach, said:

What if there was a noise downstairs?

Someone here to make noise. Who will climb here at night!

We must still block the window, - continued the first. - Go down, I saw the matting there, otherwise someone might see the light from the side of the river.

At these words, the boys were even more frightened, since it was necessary to go down past them. They were about to rush headlong to the window, but a second voice answered:

Will do for today and so. I don't have a spare candle to go down.

Then slowly the guys began to back away.

They got out to the window and, jumping out to the ground, rushed to run at full speed, leaving even Yashkin's hidden shoes uncollected.

Having reached the gardens, the children, without discussing everything that had happened, agreed to meet early tomorrow and ran home.

Yashka dived under the covers and, hiding with his head, pretended to fall asleep.

The father came in and asked the mother:

Is Yashka already sleeping? Couldn't find a photo. Oh, and it's a pity if he doesn't find it!

What is she to you? - the mother, who was already falling asleep, responded from under the covers.

That's just the point, what is what. I’ll fill up the photograph, it’s worth a nickel, and they promised me a five for it. I am sitting, reading a newspaper in the lodge. Some unknown person approaches me. I immediately guessed that he was a visitor. He greeted and asked: "Will you be Maxim Nefedovich Babushkin?" - "I'm talking. "Very nice! I would like to talk to you. If you are not busy, then maybe you would go with me to the neighboring tea house, "Golden Bottom", and there, over a bottle of beer, I would explain to you the essence of the matter." And I was just about to go home. "Well, I say, you can come in. Wait a minute, I'll just lock up the coachman." We went into the tea room, served us a couple of beers, and he got down to business.

It turns out that he came with a friend from the city from some society for the study of Russian antiquity. That is, they study various old buildings, estates and churches. Which architect worked, in what year and in what style. And now they became interested in the count's estate. I explained to him that although I had served as a gardener for the count for many years, the estate itself had been built a hundred years before me, so I can’t say anything about the architect. As for the greenhouses and the park, it was all under my supervision.

Then he began to ask me what plants were grown and what flowers. I answer him and mentioned the word about the palm tree. He does not believe: "The palm tree cannot grow in the wild in such a climate." - "How, I say, can't? I won't lie - I still have a photograph from it." How his eyes sparkled... "Sell us this photograph," he suggests to me, "we'll give you five rubles for it. It's not for you, but for our collection." I gasped - for all sorts of rubbish and five rubles! Well, I think it’s true that you don’t know where a person’s luck falls. And I promised to bring him ... Yes, but I can’t find it anywhere.

Fools people, - said, yawning, mother. - They have nowhere to put their money, or what? Last year, an artist from Sychikha, too, undertook to draw a portrait, and even paid her a ruble a day. Well, I’d take at least the chairman’s wife or someone else uglier, otherwise Sychikha - and even without a portrait she’s taken aback! .. And you still look for a card, fives don’t lie under the fence. There Yashka will have to manage his coat by the fall, he has completely grown out of the old one.

“Eh, and we are fools!” thought Yashka, carefully leaning out from under the blanket. “Oh, and cowards! And what were you afraid of? "We ought to get upstairs to them. Maybe they could help in something - you see, they earned a two-kopeck piece, and we run away. And what you can't imagine with fear at night!"

Yashka pulled the blanket tighter and heard his father turn the switch, turning off the light.

Yashka turned on his side and closed his eyes. He stayed like that for ten minutes. A sweet drowsiness began to seize him, and his thoughts began to mingle, a piece of some kind of dream had already flashed, when suddenly he heard that something softly hit the floor, as if a small piece of plaster had fallen from the ceiling. A minute later, something knocked again.

“Vaska the cat must be pampering in the dark,” Yashka thought, and lowered his hand to the floor, looking for something that could scare the cat away. And at that very moment he felt that a small, pea-sized pebble fell right on his blanket.

“Someone is throwing himself through the window. Isn’t Valka already ... But why is he so late? ..”

Yashka leaned out the window. Near the black fence, he barely made out Valka hiding in the shadows. Yashka waved his hand to him, which should have meant: "Go away, I can't get out, my father and mother have just gone to bed." However, Valka stubbornly shook his head and continued to give a signal, calling Yashka.

“Here, dog, take you away!” thought Yashka, worried. “What could have happened to him to call at midnight?”

He carefully pulled his trousers up and listened. Sister Nyurka was fast asleep. In the next room, my father was snoring, but my mother was still tossing and turning from side to side.

Yashka silently climbed onto the windowsill, felt the ledge with his hand and quietly descended to the excavation of the foundation. He made his way to the corner along the ditch, and only then did he jump into the soft earth of the strawberry patches.

What are you? - he pounced on Valka. - Did I tell you to wake up at night?

Instead of answering, Valka excitedly put his fingers to his lips and pulled Yashka by the sleeve.

So what are you? Yashka asked impatiently, stopping near the bathhouse and not understanding Valka's excited state. And immediately he understood everything, or rather, understood nothing - at the wall of the bath he saw a Wolf tied up from somewhere.

I just wanted to go to bed, went out to recover, - said Valka, - I look, the dog is running at full speed - and straight to me. I thought I was crazy, but out of fear I jumped right onto the fence. And suddenly I see that it is a wolf.

But why did Dergach let him out?

Don't know.

Here's another new misfortune ... Look, yes, the Wolf is all furry, he was in the water somewhere ... What to do with him now?

Let's tie him to the bath for now... And in the morning we'll bring him back. He may have escaped from Dergach.

They tied the dog in the bathhouse ... Once again they agreed to meet early in the morning and parted again.

Yashka began to make his way home the same way. Already near the window, he turned around, and it seemed to him that the top of the lilac bush that grew in the garden near the bathhouse trembled somehow unnaturally, as if it had been rocked from below. An inexplicable uneasiness seized the little boy for some reason. He climbed into the room, not knowing why he bolted the window and could not sleep for a long time, thinking about what had happened. He must have fallen asleep very soundly afterwards, because somehow he woke up suddenly, with a jerk, from a loud noise and barking.

Yashka, - shouted the mother, - Yashka, wake up, you devil!

Yashka jumped up, thinking nothing.

The barking got stronger. It was no longer a simple dog barking at a passing traveler, but desperate anxiety, turning into a frenzied squeal.

Nefedych, grabbing a hunting Berdanka from the wall, hurriedly ran out into the yard.

After half a minute, the barking immediately broke off, and almost immediately there was a roar of a shot.

Yashka, not remembering himself, jumped out into the yard. Towards him came across several people of neighbors. Someone said:

A man entered the bathroom. Must be a thief. He stabbed the dog. Nefedych fired, but missed.

Why did he sneak into the bathroom? Why did he attack the dog?

I don't know why, you can ask him.

“Well, it’s a night!” thought the stunned Yashka, rushing to the bathhouse. “Well, it’s a night today, there’s nothing to say.”

With a knife blow, Wolf was harmlessly wounded in the upper part of the neck. Father and mother inflicted on Yashka the strictest interrogation about how the "poisoned" dog ended up in the bathhouse.

Taking advantage of the favorable moment, Yashka frankly admitted that the Wolf was hidden by him for the time being, and kept silent about it. Where exactly was the wolf hiding? And since the lawsuit against the Wolf was not approved by the judge, and besides, the dog proved to be a real hero, protecting the house from an unknown intruder last night, an amnesty was declared for the Wolf.

Meeting with Valka, who was already aware of everything that had happened, Yashka dragged him into the garden and there, stopping in a secluded place, put his hand in his pocket.

Look, Valka! We didn't see it last night, but this morning I found it tied to the Wolf's collar.

And Valka saw a fragment of the picture - the lower part of the photo with a palm tree. On the reverse side, some letters were obviously drawn, but it was impossible to make out them, because the blood flowing from the neck of the wounded Wolf stained this entire side of the card.

How did she get on the Wolf's neck?

Dergach tied! He wanted to write something to us... Maybe some misfortune happened to him. Maybe some stone fell from the wall and crushed him, or he lost his leg in the dark.

Why only half of the card?

Having decided nothing plainly, the guys went to the "Count" to ask Dergach about everything on the spot.

Near the wall overgrown with ivy, Yashka left Valka to look for the shoes left yesterday, while he himself climbed up.

In the dark pantry he lit a match, and at once the cigarette butts caught his eye. He picked up one. It was the same cigarette butt he had found a few days earlier in the upper room.

"These researchers-scientists were already here," he thought.

The match went out. He lit the second and pulled the door leading to the basement - there was no one in the basement. Then Yashka got back and whistled a prearranged signal. A booming echo answered him with dozens of false whistles, but Twitch did not answer.

It became clear that Dergach had disappeared.

Two days have passed. The children built a strong kennel for the Wolf, put him on a chain, and the Wolf officially assumed the position of the watchman of the Yashka house.

There was not a word about Dergach.

Why didn't he say goodbye to us?.. And what did he write on the back of the photo?

Yashka took out a piece of the picture, turned it over and, deciding that you couldn’t make out anything here anyway, threw the card onto the grass.

Let's go swimming, Valka.

Ten minutes after the children ran away, Nefedych came out of the garden gate. In his hands he held a curved garden knife, with which he cut dry branches, and a shovel.

In the yard, he stopped just near the place where the guys had recently been talking, and began to roll a cigarette. His glance fell accidentally on a card lying on the grass.

Look, the guys messed up again, ”he grumbled, picking up the piece. He turned the find in his hands, took out his spectacles, and looking closely at the raised scrap, spread his hands: - Oh, you, you sort of devils! I'm looking for, looking for a photograph, twice a day a person visits her, and they tore it up ... Now my five are gone ... Who needs a sort of scrap? He slipped the card into his pocket and, with a heavy sigh, went home.

When Yashka and Valka were returning home for dinner, before they reached the gate, they heard the barking of the Wolf and the cry of their father.

Shut up, you damned one, look how furious you are! .. Come in, come in. Don't be afraid, he's on a chain.

The gate swung open, and a stranger came out to meet the guys. Short, slightly stooped, with an uneven row of small teeth, grinning in a satisfied smile. His right hand was bandaged with a bandage.

He looked askance at the boys and turned sharply to the opposite side of the sidewalk.

In the yard, Yashka ran into his father, who was holding a brand new crispy piece of paper in his hand.

Yashka quickly looked at the grass near the fence. The piece of photograph he had thrown was not there.

After dinner he went into the garden, lay down and thought. And the more he thought, the more intrusively the thought became attached to him that all the events of the last days were not accidental, but had a strong connection with each other, and that this very photographic card was the connecting link of everything that had happened.

Just at this time, Yashka's father received a vacation and gathered with his mother to stay for three days in the city, to the eldest married daughter.

Aunt Daria was invited to take care of the house at this time. But Aunt Daria was already old, besides, she was excessively fat and a little deaf, and therefore, in the morning, her mother began to pump up Yashka:

Yes, see that you go to bed early and don’t forget to lock the doors ... But don’t pester Nyurka, otherwise I’ll come and give you a thrashing. Yes, if I notice that you, like last time, opened the cabinet with jam with a nail, then it’s better to run out of the house in advance. - Etc. First, Yashkin's possible crimes were listed, then there was a list of punishments that would follow these crimes.

Yashka answered everything briefly:

No, mom. What are you attached to? You would have cracked me in the neck ahead of time. I said I won't, so I won't.

But as soon as the cart disappeared, taking his parents to the station, Yashka rushed into the garden in a hurricane, whistling Valka, who was always ready to appear. And together they began to cackle and gallop on the grass like young foals released into the wild.

I am now the owner of the house! - proudly declared Yashka. - Oh, varnish is fun when father and mother occasionally leave! You and I will come up with something fun these days.

Come on, Yashka, let the snake go ... let's do it with a ratchet.

And with a ratchet, the policeman does not order, because the horses are frightened. Yes, and without a ratchet, he does not order not to confuse telephone wires.

Work boiled with might and main; took out a glass of flour, brewed a paste. Yashka brought his father's newspaper and a bast pulled out of a rug, and Valka brought shingles.

When Yashka was already setting up a "fetter", that is, three threads that converge at the center, an interesting ad caught his eye. It was written there:

Parents of the boy Dmitry Elkin

convincingly ask the person who wrote a note about him

in the Rostov newspaper "Molot"

tell your son our address:

"Saratov province., State farm "Red plowman".

Mother honest, but it's Dergach they are looking for! gasped Yashka. - Remember, he told us that someone wrote about him in the newspaper.

But Dergach knows nothing. Maybe he will never know at all - will he get a newspaper?

And where did he fail? No to wait ... It's a pity, Valka, Dergacha. Although he was rude, he was good. He stood up for us. He cooked a goat for a wolf ... He fixed a slingshot for me. And so he left ... And how glad he would be, Valka!

Having finished the kite, the guys let it dry, then they took the Wolf with them and ran into the field to launch it.

But despite the fact that the kite went straight up and rattled merrily with a ratchet, scaring away the ringing larks, the guys' mood dropped. It was a pity for Dergach and a shame that he had so unexpectedly and absurdly left his happiness. I was going to Siberia to look for some kind of aunt. Where else can you find her without a last name? Is it far from the Saratov province here?

The serpent, suddenly saluting, quickly went down. Yashka started running with all his might, pulling on the thread, but nothing helped. The serpent saluted again and fell like a stone somewhere on the trees behind the "Count".

They began to tighten the ball of thread, but the threads soon broke off. “Oh, mother wouldn’t have asked!” thought Yashka. “After all, I took the ball from her for a while without asking.

Let's run. The serpent sat high in the branches of one of the trees in the grove that started from the "Count" and adjoined the gloomy Kudimovsky forest. Yashka was about to climb a tree, when his attention was attracted by the barking of the Wolf.

Interested, Yashka ran to the barking and saw that the Wolf was jumping in the bushes near a narrow path and, joyfully waving his tail, rattled some black object with his teeth.

The guys snatched his find from the Wolf and looked at each other. It was nothing more than Tergach's cap, tattered and stained with soot.

Valka, - said Yashka, thinking a little, - maybe Dergach didn’t run away at all? Maybe he was just scared of someone and hiding somewhere around here? I know there is a hut near here.

And who is he afraid of?

Whom! Yes, at least these ones that climb around the estate.

So you yourself told me that these are scientists.

I know what I said. Yes, something seems to me now, Valka, that they, perhaps, are not quite so scientists, but some others.

Meanwhile, the Wolf, quietly, squealing with joy, ran along the path, sniffing it and wagging its tails without ceasing.

Look how happy the wolf is. Honestly, he smelled Dergacha's trail. You know what, Valka, let's run after the Wolf, he will lead us somewhere. There are even several huts here, in which they spend the night on the mowing. And now it's not too late. The sun is still high.

Valka hesitated, but, always obedient to the wishes of his comrade, agreed.

Well, Wolf! - And Yashka waved his cap in front of his nose. - Well, look!

The wolf, jumping high, licked Yashka in the face, as if showing that he understood what they wanted from him, buried his nose in the ground, turned around and, at once pulling the string stretched from the collar to Yashka's hand, dragged the boy behind him.

Look how he loves Dergach.

Still would! The jerk of one meat fed him as much as he always put to sleep with him.

It is difficult to say how long this rapid advance along the path lasted. But it must have been a lot, because the trees had already begun to cast long shadows, and the guys were sweating a lot, when the Wolf suddenly stopped, spun around, sniffing the ground, and resolutely turned right from the path into the forest.

Half an hour later, it definitely became clear to Yashka that in the direction where the Wolf was rushing, there was not a single place where Tergach could hide, except ... except only for the "hunting house".

The building, known as the "hunting lodge", was located seven versts from the "Count". Once built at the whim of the count, far from the roads, on the edge of a huge swamp, it has remained almost untouched to this day. True, everything that could be carried away from it was plundered during the war years, but the house itself, built from blocks of gray stone lying in abundance, survived.

After the revolution, one of the burned peasants wanted to adapt the house for housing, but the place turned out to be quite uncomfortable: on the one hand - a stone, on the other - a swamp. So no one moved into the house, and it was overgrown with weeds and damp moss.

Entire clouds of midges darted between the trees. The sun did not warm the damp earth through the dense foliage. The women did not come here for mushrooms either, because only milk-white fiddlers and fiery-red fly agarics grew here.

And only in early spring and towards autumn, when hunting was allowed, one could hear the dull echo of the shot of a lone hunter hunting for ducks. And even that is rare: there were few hunters of their own in the town, and it is far from here to the city.

The Wolf dragged the guys along with him to this house.

A little before reaching the place, Yashka stopped and, passing Valka the string from the dog's collar, said:

Stay here. Sit behind this stone and see that the Wolf does not bark. And I'll go ahead and scout carefully. Who knows who else you'll run into. In which case, let the strekacha go back.

Valka cringed. It was evident that he did not like this order, but he knew that it was useless to object to Yashka, and besides, the house was around the corner, very close by. He nestled between two large boulders and pulled the impatiently torn Wolf to him.

Turning behind a bushy hill, Yashka saw the roof of the "hunting lodge". Hiding behind the leaves, he crept close and listened.

Apart from the buzzing of mosquitoes, the croaking of frogs, and the dreary squeak of some marsh bird, he did not hear a single sound that could tell him that the house was inhabited.

Then Yashka cautiously approached the porch, wondering what exactly made the Wolf so persistently pull towards this place. He pulled the doorknob and found himself inside the house. There was no one in the first room, but for the fact that people were here recently, they said sausage peelings, a bottle of wine and cigarette butts scattered on the floor.

He picked up one cigarette butt and again without difficulty recognized the same sort of cigarettes with golden letters, which he had twice found in the Grafskoye.

"Wow," he thought, "our explorers seem to have been here already!" There was a pile of hay in the next room. Then he looked into a small side room. Here he immediately stumbled upon a box with some tools and two unknown objects that looked a bit like shells.

“What can all this mean?” thought Yashka. “Eh, yes, it’s better, perhaps, to get out of here, and what’s good, they’ll think that I’ve come to steal something.”

And he darted back to the porch.

And where, in fact, was Dergach at that time?

Having gone, as usual, in the evening to the basement of the "Count", to the Wolf, he soon fell asleep. He woke up again from the slight growl of a dog. This time the noise upstairs was quite distinct; it intensified, then subsided.

Finally, steps were heard in the pantry next to the basement. Light from a lit candle filtered through a narrow slot in the iron door. Someone shuffled their feet on the stone floor, then there was a rustle of hay thrown on the floor, and one could hear how a person lay down on an armful to rest.

"Who else has it brought here?" thought Dergach. And, having patted the Wolf so that he was silent, Tergach, sneaking to the door, looked into the crack.

And although the candle dimly illuminated the stone vaults of the pantry, Tergach immediately recognized the man.

“The Count,” he whispered, feeling a tremor in his knees, “the Count returned to his estate, but why? What does he want here? - A terrible thought burned Dergach at the same time ...

That's why he saw the Count and Cartilage at the main line station. They themselves were heading for the town, but he, Dergach, did not find any place where it would be safer to run away, but here, to the town. Clearly, since the Count is here, Cartilage is somewhere nearby.

But what to do now? The wolf can hardly restrain himself from barking, and the count is not going to leave. Maybe he'll even stay here overnight? And at dawn, if he notices the door leading to the basement and looks in here? What then? Then the end.

Plans for escaping this trap flashed through Twitch's mind one after the other. No... nothing comes out. Then he took out a photograph, pulled out a pencil stub, lying among other little things in his pocket, and in the dark wrote at random:

"Yashka, I'm locked up... The cartilage is here, in Grafskoye, tell the police"...

Twitch tied the photograph to the collar, dragged the Wolf to the narrow window and stuck the dog's head in there.

The wolf did not force himself to beg ...

It was heard how he fell into the water and swam, heading for the opposite shore.

Twitch hid in a corner, curled up and threw hay at himself. “Still, it’s easier without a dog,” he thought, “otherwise it would definitely give out by barking.”

A few minutes later, someone else quickly entered the adjacent pantry, and Twitch immediately recognized Khryashch from his voice.

Count,” he said curtly, “something is wrong ... There are cops somewhere ... I walk past the pond, I hear something thrashing from the wall. I look, the dog is swimming; I went to her ... waited until she began to get out ... illuminated her with a lantern - I looked, she had some kind of package tied to her neck ... bushes and disappeared... Wait... the dog fell into the water from this wall... Wait a minute, where does this iron door lead to?

At these words, Tergach cringed even more and almost stopped breathing.

In the next room, they discussed something in a whisper.

Then suddenly the door swung open. At first, Dergach did not see anyone. But then he saw that both raiders prudently lay down on the floor, apparently fearing that a shot would immediately fire at them from the open door. They had guns in their hands.

There is no one, - said the count.

However, Cartilage, in two leaps, found himself near a heap of hay lying in a corner, and kicked him hard with his foot.

A malevolent cry escaped him when he saw Tergach huddled up in front of him:

Ah... so that's where you are... so you're following us... sent a report to someone with a dog, to the police, or what?.. Whose dog was that?..

And Cartilage hit Twitch with all his might. He staggered and, making a desperate attempt, if not to justify himself, then to gain time, replied:

I did not write to the police, but to the boys I knew. So that they don't come here tomorrow, because there is someone else here. This is their dog, they hid it here.

Ah... I know... who they are... - gritted Cartilage, turning to the count. “They’ve been hovering around here all the time the other day, near the estate. One of them is the son of that same watchman ... Well, you know which one ... to whom I always go for a photograph ...

Wait, - interrupted the count, - the note can still get into the police ... The devil knows what this little snake wrote in it. She must be returned at all costs... otherwise the whole thing may collapse... The dog must be wandering around the yard until morning... Try to get into the yard and kill her... and rip off what is written on the collar. .. It's not a joke... We haven't done anything yet...

Cartilage hit Twitch again and said angrily:

Now, mess with the dog now!.. It’s not enough of your own business, or something ... Well, all right ... Stay here ... Yes, tie the hands of this bastard ... And watch be on the alert ... In case of anything ... you knock, and you go there yourself ... we'll meet there.

And he disappeared.

Cartilage returned an hour and a half later. He was angry, and his right hand was covered in blood.

Damn dog! - he said. - She was locked in a bathhouse ... I made my way there, hit her with a knife, but she, like a frenzy, dug into my arm ... Then the sodom rose, someone even banged after me, but my happiness is past.

And the note?

What a hell of a note! There was a whole card hanging to the collar. I pulled - half tore off, and half remained there. Na, look...

The count looked at the piece of paper handed to him and shouted:

Listen, do you know what it is? This is a half of the very photo that we need; but only her whole bottom, which we need most of all, remained there ... How did she get to you? he asked, jerking Twitch by the shoulder.

Dergach replied.

Oh you! - Count Cartilage said venomously. - I was afraid of a dog bite. Well, what would you tear it all off! And the whole thing would be over ... And now what ... to rummage through the entire section of greenhouses, or something ...

Hey, you're good too! - snarled angry Cartilage. - Your Excellency! The owner of the estate - and you can not show the place where the palm tree grew.

Fool! Yes, when the peasants kicked us out of the estate, I was only twelve years old.

And whose face is it on the card?

This is my older brother. I was very similar to him. Yes, and our whole family was alike, we have a family nose and chin ... Well, what should we do now?

Cartilage thought and said:

We need to get out of here just in case. We'll wait a day there, and then we'll see.

And this one? - And the count shook his head, pointing to Tergach lurking in the corner.

We will also take this with us. I will first interrogate him thoroughly, how and why he ended up here.

The raiders quickly got out, and, pushed by kicks, Twitch wandered along the path indicated to him into the forest.

One of the branches caught his cap and threw it to the ground. Twitch could not lift it, because his hands were tightly bound.

From the tools scattered on the floor of the "hunting lodge" Twitch was brought into, he realized that the raiders had come here for some serious business.

He was pushed into a large room, and he flew into a corner.

Coming to his senses a little, Dergach began to look around. He was immediately amazed that the window looking outward was wide open and had no bars. He stuck his head in there, but the night, black, impenetrable, hid the outlines of all objects.

And immediately Dergach decided to run away. A small shard of glass protruded from the half-rotten frame of the knocked-out window.

Leaning against the window sill, he began to grind the rope that bound him on a sharp ledge, wondering at the same time why the usually cunning and prudent Cartilage had made such a mistake this time and left him in a room from which one could easily escape.

Meanwhile, there was an altercation going on in the next room.

And the devil pulled your father, - said Cartilage, - to contact this palm tree! Just think, what a sign: today it was, and the next it rotted. Well, I would take at least, as you will see, some kind of stone ... well, at least if not a stone, then a solid tree - a linden or oak, or even a palm tree! And how he did not have enough to realize that without him the peasants would not build this palm tree, like him, for every winter in glass and it would disappear in the first frost!

But who knew something, - the count objected. - Who then thought that all this for a long time and seriously! Yes, not only the father, but none of ours thought so. Everyone expected that the revolution would last a month ... two ... and then everything would go back to the old way. After all, they hoped for the white army.

Here they hoped. Don't dig up the whole garden! This is where you get suspicious. All this is necessary quickly and imperceptibly - I found a place, dug it out, opened it up and fled ... I’m thinking if it’s possible to call the old gardener to the estate ... Let him directly show the place where the palm tree grew.

Dangerous... can guess.

He would only show us, but there ... - Here Cartilage whistled.

Well, what to do with it?

And Dergach realized that the question had been raised about him.

With this? .. But let's have a bite to eat and rest, and there I will interrogate him, and head into the swamp ... I have old scores with him. It still won't make any sense. That's when he ran away with the stirrup, brute.

“Wait!” Twitch thought, shaking off the cut ropes from the runes. “Only you saw me!”

He carefully climbed onto the window sill, about to jump down, when he suddenly staggered and convulsively clutched the frame jamb with his hands.

The sky turned a little gray, the stars faded, and in the faint flashes of pre-dawn lightning, Tergach made out a steep, deep cliff right under the window, at the bottom of which, behind densely overgrown yellow water lilies, glimpses of water peeked out, covering in some places a viscous swamp smelling of rot.

And only now Tergach understood why he was left unattended in a room with an open window, and only now did he feel the full horror of his situation.

But the years spent in a constant struggle for existence, spending the night under bridges, dangerous journeys under wagons and all sorts of obstacles that had to be overcome during the years of vagrancy, did not pass without a trace for Dergach. Dergach did not want to give up yet. Standing on the windowsill, he began to look around. And up above, above the window overlooking the cliff, he noticed another, small window leading to the attic. But before him, even standing up to his full height, Dergach could not reach at least one and a half yards.

"Eh, if you fly into the quagmire this way and that way," Dergach thought, bitterly pursing his lips, "if you disappear this way and that way, then it's better to try anyway."

His plan was to swing open half of the outer frame to its full capacity, climb onto the upper Beam, grab onto the ledge of the dormer window, and, making his way to the attic, run out of there through the exit door.

In another place Twitch would have done this without much difficulty - he was tenacious, light and flexible - but here the whole point was that the frame was very dilapidated, weakly hinged and could not withstand the weight of the boy.

Still, there was no other choice.

Twitch opened the window all the way and pushed some piece of wood between the window sill and the lower hinge so that the window would not slosh. He looked down, and it seemed to him that the black mouth of the predatory bog was wide open, waiting for the moment when he would break. He averted his eyes and no longer looked down.

Then, with the caution of a circus gymnast weighing the slightest movement, he stepped on the bottom bar with his foot. Immediately there was a slight but ominous crunch, and the frame sank a little. Then, clinging to the ledges of the unevenly built wall, trying to reduce his weight as much as possible, he climbed onto the middle crossbar. Something cracked again, and several screws flew out of their hinges. Twitch swayed and, sticking his fingers into the wall, froze, expecting that he was about to fly down with the frame.

Now the most difficult thing remained: I had to put my foot on the top crossbar, push off at once and grab onto the ledge of the dormer window, which was already almost there.

Twitch's legs tensed, fingers, ready to cling to the ledge in a death grip, spread wide. "Well," he thought, "it's time!"

And he rushed with the speed of a snake that felt that someone had stepped on its tail. There was a strong crack, and the frame torn off by the push began to slowly fall, pulling out the last screws that had not yet flown out with its weight.

And Twitch, already crawling in through the dormer window, heard her plummet into the chugging swamp.

Climbing into the attic, Tergach rushed to the exit door. But as soon as he pushed the door, he realized that it was bolted from the outside and he was locked up again.

He then lay down on the dusty earth flooring ... it seems that for the first time in all the years of homelessness he felt that tears of despair were about to burst from his eyes.

Meanwhile, the crack of the broken frame alarmed the raiders. Voices were heard from below.

He threw himself out the window, said the count.

He thought he was probably going to swim. Well, you can't get out of there! Can you feel the stench? This disturbed swamp gas is rising...

But what about now?

What is "how"? He drowned, and there he is dear. After the interrogation, I myself wanted to send him along the same path.

Little by little, Dergach, who realized that the raiders considered him dead, began to return to the completely lost hope of salvation.

With the dawn, Cartilage and the count disappeared somewhere. Twitch, taking advantage of their absence, tried all means to break out of his dungeon, but the door was firmly locked from the outside and did not move at all. There was also nothing to disassemble the roof.

Another day has passed. The jerk was hungry and exhausted. During this time, he ate only a piece of bread, accidentally left in his pocket, and drank two handfuls of water seeping through a crack in the roof during the night rain.

On the third day, the raiders returned. They were excited about something.

The main thing, - said Khryashch, - the old man shows me a piece of photograph, and he himself says: "The boys tore it up, I found only half on the grass." I almost jumped up. "It doesn't matter," I say, "let's at least half." And when I gave him the promised five, he was almost stunned with joy.

So today!

Today. I've already got the horse... we'll load it with a pack and transport it here, then we'll open it up at night, and it's over.

Both soon left.

"Today they'll bring something, probably a steel box, and they'll break it open," Tergach thought, remembering the tools he'd seen below. And Dergach, completely exhausted, lay down on the ground and, crouching like a mouse in the gray dust, fell into some kind of semi-consciousness.

He came to his senses by evening, when he heard footsteps below. Back, he thought.

But this time the steps were somehow stealthy, unsteady, as if some stranger was quietly tiptoeing through the rooms.

Twitch crawled to the door and peered through the crack. There was no one to be seen at the entrance. He waited. Footsteps were heard again, and someone came out onto the porch, looking around cautiously and, apparently, intending to run away.

Yashka! Dergach suddenly shouted, staggering. - Yashka! I'm here... here, locked in the attic...

A minute later, Yashka was already at the door.

Twitch," he replied excitedly, "you can't open it here... a huge padlock hangs and is all rusty...

Twitch looked like a wolf cub that had just been locked in a cage. He pulled the door, got angry and bit his lips...

Rather, they should return now ... What, doesn’t it work out? Well, then get me a rope from below, I'll go down the old road, and you'll drag me through the window ...

Yashka ran after the rope and slipped it to Tergach through the crack in the door... The rope slipped through tightly, and while Tergach was pulling it through, he briefly told Yashka about everything that had happened.

Well, now... run to the side room and wait for me to start descending... Wait!

The guys shuddered... Somewhere not far away a horse neighed...

Run... - whispered Dergach, - they are returning... Run to the police, tell them that Cartilage and the Count, bandits are breaking into the box here... Tell me that it will be too late by dawn... Help me out, Yashka...

And Yashka, rolling down the stairs, crashed into the bushes, without stopping, waved his hand to the lurking Valka ... And, despite the branches of the trees, painfully whipping his face, the frightened guys ran to the place.

Twitch had barely managed to pull a thick rope towards him through the gap, when the count and Khryashch, holding the bridle of a loaded horse, approached the house.

Stomping their feet heavily, the raiders brought a small square object into the rooms, and by the way something hard hit the floor, Twitch guessed that it was a fireproof box.

Then, during the whole night, there was a fuss, a creak, and some kind of hiss, similar to the noise of a kindled primus stove, below.

Obviously, things were moving slowly, because several times desperate curses were heard from below.

Dawn came, and help did not come. And now Twitch was not so much interested in the thought of whether he would soon have to get out, but whether the police would be able to arrive in time and capture the accursed Cartilage before the raiders broke open the box and disappeared from here.

Joyful exclamations from below told Dergach that the box had finally been opened.

Several minutes of silence and hurried fuss followed. At the bottom, they were probably examining the contents of the box.

Phew, it's hot ... I'm all sweaty, - said Cartilage.

My tongue almost cracked too... Go to the spring, bring some water.

But Cartilage, obviously for reasons that seemed to him quite weighty, answered:

Here's another! Why should I go alone ... let's go together ... and then immediately, without wasting a minute, we will take everything and run off, otherwise the horses must have missed it already ...

Are you afraid I'll take everything and run away? the Count asked mockingly. - Okay, let's go for a drink.

Through the gap, Tergach saw how they hurriedly headed for the edge of the forest and disappeared into the bushes. “Now they’ll come back, take away everything that was in the box, and disappear,” thought Twitch. “And again Cartilage will be free, and again always be afraid and tremble, so that he doesn’t get in your way. Eh! Why don’t they go ours!"

And suddenly a daring thought came to Dergach's head.

Ah, Cartilage! he whispered. - You always only knew that to beat and beat me, you wanted to throw me into the swamp ... Wait a minute, Cartilage! We'll get even with you now.

Obviously, some kind of fever intoxicated Tergach, because previously he, who trembled at the mere mention of Cartilage's name, would never have decided on such a risky act.

He quickly lowered the rope from the dormer window along the sheer wall ... fastened one end to the post that supported the roof, and slid down the rope. Finding himself on the windowsill of a side room, he jumped off, and, running into the next room, he slammed the heavy door shut and slid it onto an iron bolt.

"Try it, get here now!" he thought maliciously, looking around at the strong bars of the windows overlooking the forest.

He could see the raiders coming back.

He stood outside the door. Footsteps were heard on the porch. The door shook. She shuddered again.

And immediately an angry and at the same time frightened exclamation was heard from outside:

What the hell! Someone is stuck there.

Then Twitch shouted from behind the door with undisguised embittered triumph:

Cartilage... you dog wanted to throw me into the swamp! Throw yourself now out of anger! I won't open it for you and you won't get any of what's in the steel box.

The roar of a shot that rang out in response ... and the bullet that pierced the door did not embarrass Tergach, for he prudently stood behind the stone wall.

Open better, dog son! roared the count and Cartilage in one voice. - Open it, otherwise we'll break the door anyway!

In response to this, Tergach laughed somehow unnaturally loudly from excitement.

He knew for a fact that the raiders couldn't break down the door with their bare hands, because all their tools were left in the house. It was important for him to buy time and detain the bandits until help came.

Suddenly he fell like a stone to the floor, because the count, creeping from the other side, put his hand with a revolver through the lattice window.

Twitch crawled close to the wall. The count's hand writhed, trying to bend enough to reach Tergach's bullet.

The bullet penetrated the floor a quarter of it. The Count forced his hand to bend again and fired again. The bullet moved two more inches towards Dergach. But the count's hand was not rubber, and he could no longer bend it. Then the count jumped back from the window and ran around the corner, apparently thinking up another plan.

Taking advantage of this moment, Tergach darted into a side room, the window of which overlooked the swamp.

Here he was relatively safe.

But why don't ours go? he whispered anxiously. “Because I won’t be able to hold out for very long. Cartilage will come up with something ...

The fact that Cartilage had already invented something, he was convinced a few minutes later, smelling the smell of burning.

He leaned out into the next room and saw that on the floor were burning shreds of hay thrown through the grate. He wanted to trample, but immediately jumped back, because the bullet hit the stone wall, not far from his head.

"But they'll burn it!" Dergach thought in fear. "They'll throw hay until the floor catches fire. But why don't the policemen come to the rescue?"

Obviously Cartilage knew exactly what he was doing. Among the devices brought by the raiders to break into the cabinet were flammable liquids. The flame, having reached them, raged at once with tenfold force, spreading across the floor and spreading heavy, suffocating smoke.

"Disappeared!" thought Dergach, gasping for breath. "Disappeared completely." Smoke climbed into the eyes, nose, throat. Twitch's head spun, he staggered and leaned against the wall.

"Gone completely ..." - he thought again, completely losing consciousness.

His knees buckled, and he fell, no longer hearing how the shots of the militiamen who came to the rescue and opened fire rumbled through the forest.

Dergach woke up in the hospital. And the first thing he noticed was the whiteness surrounding him. White walls, white pillows, white beds. A woman in a white coat approached him and said:

Well, here you are, darling! Come on, drink this.

And, slightly rising on his elbow, Dergach asked:

Where is cartilage?

Sleep ... sleep ... - the white woman answered him. - Stay calm.

As if through a dream, Tergach saw a man in glasses who took his hand.

It was calm, warm and quiet, and most importantly - everything around was so white and clean. There was no trace of black rags and soot-stained hands.

Sleep! the woman told him again. "You'll get better soon and you'll be home soon."

And Dergach, a little vagabond who only with great effort of will got out of the way of the raiders onto a hard road, closed his eyes, repeating in a barely audible whisper: "Home soon."

A day later, Yashka and Valka were on a date with Dergach. Both of them were dressed in huge bathrobes, combed and washed. Twitch smiled at them, nodding his slender, cropped head. At first everyone was silent, not knowing how to start a conversation in such an unusual setting, then Yashka said:

Twitch! Get well soon. The count is arrested, he turned out to be a real count. They dug a box under the palm tree, hidden by the old count before running to the whites. There was a lot of good stuff in the box, but because of you, our policemen managed to seize everything. You come out soon, all the boys will follow you in herds now, because you are a hero!

Where is cartilage?

Cartilage was killed when he fired back.

Twitch, - Valka said timidly, - and your family members were found on the ad. And the pioneers are trying to get you a ticket. And the Wolf bows to you too... He loves you very much, Dergach.

Dergach sighed. A good childish smile spread over his washed, still pale face, and, closing his eyes, he said joyfully:

And how good it becomes to live ...

Arkady Petrovich Gaidar - On the count's ruins, read text

See also Gaidar Arkady Petrovich - Prose (stories, poems, novels ...):

NIGHT AT THE GUARD
Story It is quiet in the guardroom. Red Army soldiers of the next shift,...

shotgun
My assistant Trach drove up to me with such an expression on his face that I...

I

A curly blond head peeped out of the grass, two bright blue eyes, and an angry whisper was heard:
- Valka ... Valka ... yes, you crawl, idol, on the right! Crawl in from behind, otherwise he w-w-ut.
The thick mugs stirred, and from their swaying tops one could guess that someone was carefully crawling along the ground.
Suddenly the blond head of the hunter again emerged from the grass. A fired arrow whistled and, with a dull thump on the boards of a rotten fence, fell.
A big, fat cat rushed frightened to the roof of the crooked bathhouse and disappeared through the attic window.
- Du-urak ... Oh, you! - indignantly, the hunter said to his comrade rising from the ground. - I told you to crawl. It would be convenient in the back, but now, bite it ... When you follow him again.
- I would crawl myself, Yashka. There are nettles, and I burned myself twice.
- Nettle! When on the hunt, then there is no time for nettles. You should send another rug.
- And since she burns!
- So you endure. Why do I endure it ... Do you want me to tear it off with my bare hand and not even blink? Woo, you think?
Yashka wiped his wet hand, pulled out a large nettle bush, and, opening his eyes unnaturally wide, asked triumphantly:
- Well, blinked? Oh, you nurse.
- I'm not a nurse at all, - Valka answered offendedly. I can too, but I don't want to.
- Do you want ... Well, weakly want? Valka's freckled snub-nosed face turned red; he could not accept the challenge now.
He went up to the nettle, hesitated for a moment, but, feeling the mocking look of his comrade on him, pulled out a large, old nettle with a jerk. His lips trembled, his eyes watered; however, trying to force a smile, he said, stuttering a little:
And I didn't blink either.
- Right! - Yashka agreed in a pure way. If you didn't blink, then you didn't blink. Only I still grabbed in the middle, and you under the spine, and under the spine she had a weaker sting. Well, yes, that's fine! You know? Let's go to the yard, the girls are playing there, and we will make a fuss for them.
- Is your mother at home?
- Not. She went to the station to sell milk. There is no one at home.
In the yard near the fence, homely and chattering like magpies, two girls covered a broken chair and stool with an old blanket and, leaning out of their hut, affably called out to two other girls:
- Come visit, please! Today we have jam pies. Come in, please!
But as soon as the guests decorously went to the call, the hostesses of the hut looked at each other in fright:
- The boys are coming!
Yashka and Valka approached slowly, calmly, this time giving no indication of their true intentions.
- Are you playing? asked Yashka.
- W-ear-child! Why are you climbing? We don’t interfere with you, ”Nyurka, Yashkin’s sister, said whiningly.
- Why should we leave? - Yashka asked even softer. We'll see, and we'll move on. This is what you have? And he pointed at the blanket.
- This is our house, - answered Nyurka, somewhat puzzled by such an unusual peaceful approach.
- Do-om? Are houses built out of blankets? Houses are built of logs or bricks. You would have dragged bricks from the Grafsky and built a strong one, but if you push this one a little, it will crumble.
And Yashka touched the stool with his foot, which caused considerable panic among the inhabitants of the hut.
- OK. Where is your pie?
- Here, - Nyurka answered anxiously following every movement of Yashka.
- That's stupid! All of them are not human. The house is made of a blanket, and the pies are made of clay. Come on, eat one pie, come on, bite. And... don't you want to? You treat people with such rubbish, but you don’t want to yourself ... Valka, let's stuff all their pies into their mouths. They baked themselves, let them eat.
- I-a-a-shka! - hopelessly-dreary in one voice tightened the girls. - I-a-shka ... u-go, hu-li-i-ga-an.
- And ... you still swear! Valka, attack this bandit's nest!
The threat of defeat and reprisals had just hung over the peaceful inhabitants of the hut, when suddenly Yashka felt that someone had firmly taken him from behind by the tuft.
The girls, as if on cue, stopped howling. Yashka turned around and saw Valka's heels disappearing behind the fence, and the angry face of his mother, who had returned from the station.
- March home! cried his mother, giving him a slap. - Look, the robber, and his games are robbery ... Look, what Petlyura turned up! Just wait, your father will come - he will show you how to be chieftain!

II

III

In the following week there was considerable talk and gossip among the boys of the shtetl. This stray, apparently, actually turned out to be a real robber.
For example, on the night from Saturday to Sunday, Aunt Pelageya's garden turned out to be completely cleared of apples. In the priest's house, glass is shattered to smithereens by a stone that has flown in from nowhere. And what's even worse - the goat disappeared from Sychikha. That is, all the nooks and crannies were searched, all the wastelands, but there is no goat and no ...
Yashka understood everything. Well, apples, let's say, in reserve. In the glass with a stone - just for mischief. Well, what about the goat? Neither the skin from it, nor the meat is not eaten.
- Zhru-u-ut! Valka confirmed enthusiastically. - Ordinary people do not eat, but they eat everything as it is. Such is their nature.
- What are you muttering to me, - Yashka got angry, - nature and nature! In your opinion, maybe they eat raw materials.
- And raw materials and everything! - Valka began to assure with even greater excitement. - Simka told me that when he was in the city, he saw such a thing! There is a merchant with a basket, and the homeless swooped in ... once ... once, and there was nothing left of her.
- From a merchant?
- Yes, not from a merchant, but from a basket, with rolls there or with pies.
- So after all, this is a pie - a pie, it is delicious, otherwise a goat - ugh!
Valka looked around, went closer to his comrade, and said in a mysterious whisper:
- Yashka! And Styopka is following us. Honestly. I went to the Grafsky. All of a sudden it made me turn around. I took a closer look. I look, Styopka's head sticks out from behind the bushes and looks intently at me that way. I deliberately took it and turned a ravine towards a wasteland, and from there home.
- Well! - And Yashka even lost his voice from excitement. - Or maybe he just accidentally?
- Well, no, not by accident. That way he looks and looks. And I look - a bush swayed nearby ... it must have been someone else from their party sitting there.
So you weren't there?
- Not!
- And how is he there, hungry?
- Nothing, last time they brought him a lot of bread and water too. Will live until tomorrow. And tomorrow we will go either early in the morning or later in the evening, when the boys are more inconspicuous. Wow, how carefully one must act, otherwise they will cover! There are two of us and four of them. If only we could at least make someone else to ourselves.
- Whom to befriend? You make him friends today, and tomorrow he will blurt out everything with them. And then what? Then they will surely kill him.
- Definitely killed.

Returning home, Yashka ran into his inveterate enemy, Styopka, behind the gardens.
The meeting was unexpected for both. But the opponents noticed one another from afar, and therefore, without losing their dignity, it was impossible to turn aside.
Approaching three steps, the enemies stopped and silently, carefully examined one another. Styopka had a stick - therefore, the advantages were on his side. Looking around, Styopka contemptuously and skillfully spat on the grass. Yashka whistled no less contemptuously.
- Why are you whistling?
- What are you spitting about?
- I'll whistle for you! Why are you hunting our cat with arrows?
- And let him not climb into someone else's garden. When our Wolf ran into your yard, why did you throw bricks at him?
- And where did you put the Wolf? You're lying that someone poisoned him. You yourself hid him somewhere, because we sued him for strangled chickens. Only you won’t fool us… Wait a minute, we’ll get to the bottom of you soon!
- Four something for two were found!
- Oh, and cowards! "Four"! Vaska was also counted when he was only nine years old.
- Well, that's nine. He's so fat, like a boar ... and that's all you pigs.
The last remark seemed so insulting that Styopka grabbed a clay ball from the ground and launched it at Yashka with all his might.
And if the bloody duel was not destined to take place, and if Yashka did not fall on the battlefield at the hands of a better armed enemy, then only because this latter suddenly screamed wildly and without looking back rushed to run.
Assuming that he was scared, Yashka issued a war cry and was about to pursue the enemy, when he suddenly heard a soft laugh behind him.
He turned around and at once understood the real reason for Styopka's hasty disappearance.
Near the elderberry bush stood a short black boy dressed in rags, in which Yashka easily guessed the storm of all the boys of the town, the hero of recent events - a homeless raider.

IV

V

It's quiet at home. The coals crackle in the samovar. Yashka is cutting a wooden plank. Nefedych went deep into reading. From behind an unfolded sheet of newspaper, his red forehead is visible, damp after the fifth glass of tea.
Nyurka is making a doll hat. Mother is busy in the kitchen.
“I don’t understand,” her voice is heard. - I just don’t understand where the half-cast-iron of yesterday’s borscht disappeared from the hallway. Cast iron is in place, but there is no borscht. Anka! Didn't you pour out the piglet?
- No, Mom!
- Well, this idol must have knocked over.
“This idol”, that is, Yashka, sits and puffs, stroking the board, and pretends that the conversation does not concern him.
- Are they telling you? Did you overturn? - angrily repeats the mother.
Yashka, reluctantly and not looking up from work, answers:
- If I, Mom, knocked it over, everything would be on the floor, and since the floor is dry, it means I didn’t knock it over.
- And the dog will pick you up! - even more irritated mother. - That one did not take, this one did not overturn, what is it, dried up, or what? Father! Get off your newspaper! Who, it turns out, took something?
Nefedych unhurriedly folds up the newspaper and, obviously hearing only the end of the phrase, answers incoherently:
- Indeed ... And who would have thought. Again they took it, but how cleverly that you can’t dig under it.
- Who are they? Who needs this sour soup?
- Yes, not soup ... what soup? - Nefedych answers, looking around in confusion and annoyed. - I say, the conservatives took power again.
Convinced that you would not get any sense out of anyone, the mother spat and began to rattle the dishes. And Nefedych, who felt a desire to talk, continued:
- And it would seem that their time has passed. But no, they are getting out more. Let's say out, our Count. His estate was set on fire, and he wanders around abroad somewhere. And everything, come on, dreams of how to return the old. Yes, and do not dream! Let's take at least the estate - what was life to him there? The picture - what's inside, then outside. Some greenhouses were worth something. And what was there just not there - and orchids, and tulips, and roses, and strawberries for Christmas ... The palm tree was even huge, more than two fathoms. Specially from the Caucasus, from near Batum, they were discharged. I tell him: “Your Excellency, where are we going to put such a colossus - this whole greenhouse will have to be broken!” And he replies: “Nothing, you plant it directly in the ground, and every year, by the time of cold weather, make a special glass building near it, and we will dismantle it again by spring.” Well, they figured it out. It was a beautiful palm tree. Then the count gave me twenty-five rubles for leaving ... just in May.
- Here's another crazy old one. But did we have a wedding in May? The wedding was played just after the Trinity.
- I don’t know, after the Trinity or after what, but only in May we then just planted the Levkoy.
- What are you telling me! - suddenly irritated, as always, says the mother. - Look at the metrics, they lie behind the shrine.
- I have nothing to watch. I remember that. Even then, the senior barchuk had just arrived from the cadet corps for the holidays and the photographer was filming him under a palm tree. I still have this card somewhere ... Yashka, did I show you this card?
“I saw it a hundred times,” Yashka replies.
Mother, indignant, clasps her hands and climbs into the sanctuary for metrics.
She can't find the paper she needs for a long time. During this time, her ardor cools somewhat, for, having estimated in her mind, she begins to recall that the trinity in the year when the wedding took place, as if it really was early and fell on May. But here her attention is diverted by another circumstance.
- Anka! her voice is heard again. - You did not remove the wedding candles because of the goddess?
- No, Mom!
- Father! Surely you didn't touch the candles?
“I haven’t touched it for twenty-five years,” Nefedych dutifully confirms. - I haven't touched it since the day of the wedding itself.
- I saw them last week. Where did they go? Probably Yashka stuck it somewhere again.
Yashka, since the question is not addressed directly to him, continues to silently snuffle over the blackboard.
- Yashka! You bastard must have worn out the candles?
Yashka finishes his work, puts the knife on the table and answers seriously, but at the same time looking a little slyly at his mother:
- We, mothers, had electricity on Lenin's orders, so it's light for me with him and without your candles.
- So where do they go? Here's some more awesome stuff! No one poured out the borscht, no one took the candles, and there was nothing in place. What are you going to do with them!

VI

In the early morning, when everyone in the house was still asleep, Yashka's blond whirlwinds leaned out of the window. Seeing Valka impatiently waiting near the fence, Yashka jumped onto the damp grass, and both boys disappeared into the raspberries. A minute later they emerged from there, and Yashka carefully carried a large clay pot, tied in a dirty rag.
Having got out of the gardens, the guys quickly rushed along the path leading past the bushes and ravines to the ruins of the "Count".
On the way, Yashka talked about yesterday's meeting.
- And he doesn’t have a weight at all, and he has a sparrow in his pocket ... and they don’t eat goats, and all this boys lie out of fear. And today we will go to him together. If he becomes friends with us, he will stop us from Styopka's company. He is strong, and he does not care. And then, if he inflates anyone, then there is no one to complain about him, and a little something about us - and to his mother.
- Why is he homeless? So, for his own interest, or does he have no one at home?
- I don't know! I haven't asked yet, but I don't think it's just for the sake of it: homeless people have a hard life, after all. When I grow up, I study, I go to a factory or somewhere else to serve, but where will he go? There is nowhere for him to go.
The grove greeted the boys with the morning noise, the fervent hubbub of the whistling birds, and the warm steamy smell of drying grass.
Here are the ruins - silent, majestic. There is emptiness in the gaps of the dark windows. The old walls smell of mold. At the main entrance there is a huge pile of rubble from a collapsed column. In some places young bushes made their way along the cornices gnawed by winds and rains.
Having dived into a crack in the stone fence and made their way through a thicket of weeds and sagebrush that reached their shoulders, the guys stopped in front of a continuous curtain of wildly growing wild ivy. An outsider's eye would not have seen any passage here, but the guys quickly and confidently climbed the half-rotted trunk of a fallen linden tree, parted the leaves, and a window opening opened in front of them, leaving a narrow, well-like room without a roof.
Climbing up the ladder, they found themselves already in a large room on the second floor, from the windows of which one could see a piece of the Green River and a path leading to the town.
From here they got to the balcony, went straight to the roof, further down through the dormer window. It was quite dark here, because this room used to serve, obviously, as a pantry, and iron shutters with rusty bolts firmly locked the windows.
Yashka rummaged around somewhere with his hand. He took out a stub of a gilded wedding candle with a bow and lit it.
An iron door appeared in the corner. Having reached it, Valka pulled the bracket.
The rusty hinges wept bitterly, creaked, and the children found themselves in a large semi-basement with narrow windows overlooking the surface of a pond swollen with algae.
And immediately, in greeting to the boys, a fervent, cheerful screech was heard from the corner.
- Wolf, Little Wolf, Little Wolf! the guys shouted, rushing to the dog tied by the collar. - Missed ... hungry. Look, all, as it is, to the crust, he ate bread, and there was not a bit of water in the trough.
The wolf wagged its tail, squealing, while it was being untied. Then he jumped up near the pot, managed to lick Yashkin's cheek and almost knocked Valka off his feet, resting his paws on his back.
- Yes, you wait, you fool ... let me untie the pot ... Well, on - burst.
The dog quickly plunged its muzzle into the sour borscht and began to lap up greedily.
The basement was dry and spacious. In the corner lay a large armful of withered grass.
Here was the secret shelter of the children who hid here the criminal strangler of other people's chickens - the Wolf dog.
Waiting for the Wolf to get enough, the guys fell on a bunch of grass and began to discuss the situation.
- Food is difficult to get, - said Yashka. - Wow, how difficult! Mother even missed borscht yesterday. And the Wolf is still growing ... Look, he has already eaten almost everything. Well, where do you get enough of it!
“Me too,” Valka assented dejectedly. - Mother saw once how I was dragging crusts, let's swear. She just didn't know why. I thought that the crooked carrier should be changed for steamed pears. What to do now? Can't be released yet?
- No, not yet. Soon the court will be about Styopka's chickens. Mother is called, and I am a witness.
- Can they go to jail?
- Nu, perishing in prison? Money, they will say, let's go for the chickens. And where do you get them, money. And what do they need money for, they are already rich, there is a shop in the bazaar.
The wolf came up, licking his lips, and lay down beside him, resting his big eared head on Yansha's knees. They lay down silently.
- Yashka, - Valka asked, - and why, in your opinion, a sort of dominatrix?
- Which?
- Yes, it's huge. If you go around it all ... well, let's say, at least look into every room, and then half a day is needed. And why did the counts have such houses? After all, there used to be a hundred rooms here?
- Well, not a hundred, but sixty - that's what my dad said. The counts have every room for a special one. In one they sleep, in the other they eat, the third for guests, in the fourth for dancing.
- And for everything separately?
- For everything. They cannot live in such a way that, for example, a room and a kitchen. My dad told me that they even had a separate room for fish. They let fish into a sort of huge vat, and then they sit and fish with fishing rods.
- Oh you! And big ones are caught?
- Which ones they let in, they catch them, at least according to the PUD. Valka squeezed his eyes shut sweetly, imagining a pound carp being dragged out, then asked:
- Have you ever seen, Yashka, live counts?
“No,” Yashka admitted. - I was only three years old when they were all wiped out. I saw it on a card. Dad has one. There is a palm tree on it - such a tree, and next to it stands a graph, so older than me, and in uniform, like white ones, is called a cadet. And so squishy. If such a one would give on the scruff of the neck, he would pile in his pants.
- And who would give?
- Well, at least I am.
- You ... - Then Valka respectfully looked at Yashka. - You're so healthy. And if I would give, then heaped?
- You ... - Yashka, in turn, looked at the frail figure of his comrade, thought and answered: - I would have piled it anyway. Old Man says that the counts will never stand against the common people.
What kind of fruit grows on a palm tree? Tasty?
- Did not eat. It must be delicious if it's on a palm tree. This is not an apple tree for you, it costs a thousand rubles.
Valka closed his eyes, licking his lips:
- That would be a bite, Yashka! At least a little bit ... otherwise you will live your whole life, and you will not bite even once.
- I'll bite. I will grow up, enroll in the Komsomol, and from there to the sailors. And sailors travel to different countries and see everything, and they have all sorts of adventures. Do you like, Valka, adventures?
- I love. Only to stay alive, otherwise there are adventures from which you can die.
- I love all kinds. I love passion like heroes! There, the armless Panfil-Budyonovets has an order. When he talks about the past, it's breathtaking.
- And how, Yashka, to become a hero?
- Panfil says that for this it is necessary to drive the whites mercilessly and not retreat before them.
- And if the Reds drive?
- And if it’s red, it means that you yourself are white, and I’ll crack you on the bowler hat like that, then you won’t talk.
Valka blinked his eyes in fear.
- So I did it on purpose. Am I for the whites? Just ask Pioneer Mishka.
“I didn’t really like it in the school detachment,” Yashka said a little later. - Here in other detachments, at least for the summer, they go to the camps, to the forest. And there are more girls in school. And all the poems are taught there, about school and about learning. I looked like, looked like and stopped. What kind of poems can be in the summer! In the summer it is necessary to catch fish, or let a snake in, or walk away.
- And I was not accepted into the school squad at all. Seryozhka Kuchnikov complained about me, as if I had shattered pears at Semenikha's. He turned out to be such a sneak, and when last year he accidentally broke a window at the Gavrilovs with a snowball, he did not confess, but they thought Shurka was his mother and tore it out. Is it good to do that too?
- Nothing! By winter, the sawmill will be up and running again, and the local detachment will sign up. There are funny guys. There, if they fight sometimes, then nothing. Well, they fought - they made peace. Is it possible for boys to do without it? And in the school detachment - just a little, they immediately discuss it!
Yashka spat angrily and got up:
- You have to go. You sit still, and I'm upstairs - I run to the Wolf for water.
Yashka returned ten minutes later. His face was worried.
"Look," he said, holding out his hand.
- Well, why look something? Cigarette butt…
How did he get into the upper room?
- So, maybe it's a long-standing one, - Valka suggested uncertainly. - Maybe it's still left from the old regime.
- Well, no, not from the old one. It says "2nd state factory" on it.
- Then, it means that these Styopkin guys were already snooping on top. I know that Seryozhka Smirnov secretly smokes with them.
“Of course they are,” Yashka agreed. But then he looked at the cigarette butt, on which “Top Grade” was embossed in gold, shook his head and said: “But why would Seryozhka Smirnov suddenly light up such expensive cigarettes?
The boys looked at each other in bewilderment. Then they tied the Wolf tightly, ordered him to be silent. And, quickly getting out, they ran home.
The jerk puffed on the smoke of a cigarette rolled from shag brought by Yashka, and, poking his finger at Valka, asked:
- So he told you that I ate a goat? He will say too! The goat is still lying in the ravine - he broke his leg. I gave him another piece of grass so that he would not die of hunger.
“Dergach,” Yashka asked after some hesitation, “where do you live?”
The jerk chuckled.
- I live by myself. Where I stumble at night, there I wake up in the morning.
- Do you have relatives?
- Yes, go far.
Yashka, bewildered by this manner of answering, said reproachfully:
- And why are you, Dergach, snapping! We're not interrogating you, but if I ask, it's out of friendship.
Tergach still looked incredulously at the guys from under his brows and answered evasively:
- And who knows you, whether for friendship or for some other reason. I once lived in Rostov under the bridge. Some kind of whip sat next to me. A sort of same, like me, rip rip. He treated me to sausage, gave me a cigarette. Well, then and there, and began to ask about my life. I foolishly take it and tell him. And how I got lost from my father and mother during the famine years, and what kind of province, what locality, how I live. He even told me about the case of how the butcher shop was robbed. About three days later, Cartilage himself comes up to me like a slap on the neck! And he pokes a newspaper in my face. “You, he says, why did this language dissolve ?!” And I know how to read. I looked at the newspaper and gasped. Mother honest! Every word that I said was printed in the newspaper - both the nickname, and the name, and where I came from, and, most importantly, about the butcher shop. It's great then Cartilage beat me for it.
"We won't publish it in a newspaper," Valka spoke up, fearfully pushing such an accusation away from himself. We won't even print a single line. I have never even seen how they print it, and he did not see it either.
Dergach lay on his back and thought about something. So, at least, Yashka decided, because when a person lies, staring at the starry sky with his eyes, he cannot think.
- Dergach, - Yashka asked unexpectedly, - and who is he to you?
- What is "he"?
- Cartilage.
At the mention of this name, Tergach somehow twitched all over, quickly turned around and asked, perplexed and embittered:
- What else Cartilage?
Yes, you were just talking about him.
- Ah ... did you say? - again turning on his back, Dergach said absently. - So ... one person ... Wow, and a person! - Here Dergach got up, leaning on his elbows, his face twisted, and, throwing a cigarette butt, he added caustically: - Uh, and a scoundrel ... uh, and a bandit!
- Real? - Valka asked, opening his eyes wide with surprise and inquisitiveness, and added with undisguised regret: - But I didn’t see anything - neither a living count, nor a real bandit.
Dergach shrugged contemptuously.
- And I saw the count.
- Alive?
- Of course, not dead.
Valka, as always in moments of excitement, screwed up his eyes and, imbued with involuntary respect for the beggar, said with poorly concealed envy:
- And you are happy, Dergach, that you saw everything. Tergach looked at Valka in surprise, perhaps even angrily:
- Wow, if you had such happiness, you would howl then, like a cow in front of a wolf! No, don’t give anyone such happiness ... Oh, if only I ... - Then Tergach waved his hand and fell silent.
And again it seemed to Yashka that Dergach had some great, unspoken grief in his soul. And, not really knowing why, he put his hand on Tergach's shoulder and said:
- Nothing, Dergach! Maybe somehow everything will work out.
Twitch started to recoil, but, meeting the eyes of the boy's seriously friendly gaze, he bowed his head slightly and answered somehow muffled:
- It would be nice if everything worked out, but I just don’t know. And from that evening, a thread of inexplicably strong friendship stretched between Yashka and Dergach.

VIII

IX

That evening, Yashka was no longer allowed out of the house. Valka turned about near his window and whistled. But from there the angry face of Yashka's mother suddenly looked out and her stern voice was heard:
- I'll whistle to you! I'll whistle to you, you little pig! I'll throw a bucket of slop on your head right now!
Valka rolled away with a ball and decided that Yashka was locked up or planted for arithmetic and he would have to run alone to throw the dive.
He took with him a "cat", that is, an anchor made of nails, suspended from a thin line, and rushed to the river.
The sun has already disappeared. Clouds of warm steam spread over the blackened river. Valka went down to the old mangled rakita, spread out near the shore overgrown with sedge, took the end of the string in his left hand, swung the "cat" with his right hand and, having marked a place, quickly threw it forward.
Water gurgled. Frightened frogs flopped from the shore.
Valka pulled the end of the string - the string did not stretch.
- It didn't catch on! - he guessed and threw the "cat" a little to the right.
- Yeah ... now there is!
His heart fluttered like a bird entangled in the bushes at night when the clumsy twigs of the diver appeared above the surface of the water.
- Oh, if only a pike ... or burbot three pounds.
He snatched out a dive, raised it to his eyes, and, ignoring the streams of water flowing down his pants, began to examine the catch:
- Two roaches… three ruffs, three saiga and two crayfish. Valka sighed disappointedly, strung the fish on a kukan. Rakov threw it into the river, threw the dive to another place and, turning the “cat”, climbed up.
It was already night. The edge of a huge moon peeped out from behind the forest like a red arc. And, illuminated by its faint radiance, the ruins of the count's estate now again seemed like a majestic, soundly sleeping castle.
But what is it? Valka jumped up, as if he had caught a snag with his foot, and dropped the kukan. One of the windows of the sleeping castle lit up from within with a faint light.
“What is the thing? Valka thought. - Who is it? ... Aha! Yes, this, of course, Dergach lit a candle. But what is he doing there? How can he, the fool, not understand what the boys can see from here and become interested!
Valka bent down, looking for the dropped kukan. When he raised his head, there was no light in the window anymore.
And Valka was attacked by the doubt that he had mistook the lunar reflection on the accidentally preserved piece of glass for fire.
"I'll have to ask Dergach tomorrow," he decided. “If he did not light a fire, then it seemed to me.”

X

In the morning, Yashka was dressed up in new pants, a festive shirt, and from the chest the mother took out a cap that smelled of mothballs.
- Mom ... but why the cap? Yashka protested. - It's not autumn or winter, and it's so hot.
- Shut up! his mother interrupted. - Do you want the judge to look at you and say: wow, what a hooligan, all disheveled! Yes, I’ll give birth to a better wash. Yes, if they ask you what they will, then answer modestly and do not sniff your nose.
In court they met Styopka's mother, a shopkeeper, dressed in an old-fashioned plush jacket, and Styopka, so combed back that it seemed his eyes even went down on his forehead.
The mothers sat down in silence, without saying hello. Styopka managed to show Yashka his tongue, to which he turned his neatly folded figure in response.
Proceedings of this most complicated case on counterclaims for damages began.
The first is about the cost of three chickens strangled by a dog named "Wolf". The second is about the cost of two ducklings and a piece of boiled meat, stolen by a cat named "Scythe". At first it was impossible to understand anything. It seemed as if no one strangled the chickens, and no one dragged the meat away. Then it suddenly turned out that the chickens themselves were to blame, because they wandered into someone else's territory and tore up the beds with seedlings.
And he ate the ducklings and stole the meat not from the “Slanting” cat, that Styopkin, but from “Tailless” Sychikhin, who had long had a reputation as a suspicious person engaged in dark deeds. However, the lively Sychikha immediately swore an oath that “Tailless” was not her cat at all, but he lives in the attic of her bath without permission, taking care of his own food, and she cannot bear any responsibility for him.
- Witness Yakov Babushkin, - asked the judge, Yegor Semyonovich, a kind old man with laughing eyes, - answer me the question: were you in the yard when the dog Volk rushed to the neighbor's chickens?
- Was, - replies Yashka.
- What did you do?
- We ... - Yashka hesitates.
- Answer ... do not be afraid, - encourages the judge.
- Valka and I were shooting from rogul.
- From what?
- From Rogul, - Yashka continues, embarrassed. - A stick with rubber, you lay a stone in it, and how it will crack!
- Where will it crack? - the judge is surprised.
“And where to aim, it will crack there,” Yashka explains and finally loses when he hears the rumble of restrained laughter.
- So! ... And what did you do when you saw that the Wolf dog was strangling neighboring chickens?
- So, Comrade Judge, they themselves climbed into our beds ...
- I'm not talking about that! You answer what you did when you saw that the dog was strangling chickens?
- We ... so when we approached, the Wolf had already run away.
- Were the chickens already dead?
- And who knows... maybe not dead... maybe they just died of fright.
- Sit down... Witness Stepan Surkov. Is it true that your chickens wandered into someone else's garden?
- They did not wander by themselves, they were lured by grain.
- Why do you think you lured?
- Definitely lured. Why would they go to someone else's yard? They don't have their own, do they?
- When you picked up the chickens, were they already dead?
- Completely dead ... and one of them didn’t even have a full leg. Mother carried them to the market to sell, then those two were nothing, but this third was forced ...
Here Stepan, suddenly feeling a poke in the side from his mother, who was sitting next to him, suddenly falls silent.
But it's too late, and the judge asks sternly and surprised:
- So, then you ... sold dead chickens at the market? Styopka's mother feels what a mistake her son made, and tries to wriggle out:
- He's lying, Comrade Judge! The chickens were only dented, but still alive; I, of course, slaughtered them and sold them.
- Ta-ak! - drawling the words and squinting slyly, says the judge. - So, you claim that you slaughtered your live chickens and sold them in the bazaar ... But excuse me: what then can be a lawsuit about?
The hall laughs in unison, and Yashka almost squeals with pleasure. Yashka probably knows that the Wolf strangled the chickens, but after Styopka blurted out that they were sold at the market, it is in no way possible for Styopka's mother to claim that she sold dead chickens.
- Wow! he shouts, after a while leaving the court. - Our took.
And behind the angry shopkeeper says quietly to Styopka:
- Wait, we'll come home, I'll pull you out, I'll show you how to lie with your tongue! - And, turning to Yashkina's mother, she shouts angrily: - And you tell your tomboy not to be outrageous! In the morning I open the pantry, and I just died - lizards scurry all over the floor. I know who let it in from the garden through the window.
But Yashka pulls his mother by the hem and tells her convincingly:
- Don't believe me, Mom! What am I, a snake tamer, or what? I myself am afraid of all the lizards and snakes worse than death.

XI

The previous evening, Dergach, having seized the goat meat strung on a string, set off to run to the "Grafsky".
The basement was already dark. Twitch lit a candle and, throwing a piece of meat to the always hungry Wolf, lay down on a pile of hay and again took out a photograph.
- So that's who he is! - whispered Dergach. - And I thought that this was just his nickname ... In epaulettes ... And now what a man has come to ... So, it means that this whole estate was his ...
Twitch put the card in his pocket and, putting the warm, tightly biting Wolf with him, closed his eyes.
Under the arches of the stone cellar there was dead silence. One could even hear the wolf's heart beating evenly and the reeds rustling under the window on the pond.
Dergach fell asleep. He slept soundly, but restlessly. In a dream, he saw a palm tree, and under the palm tree Yashka.
“Come here,” Yashka called. And suddenly Tergach saw that it was not Yashka at all, but the formidable raider Khryashch himself was standing and beckoning him with his finger: “Well, come here, come here ... Why did you want to be a burglar, and why did you leave the stirrup?”
Twitch wanted to shout, but could not; I wanted to run, but the grass covered my legs; he rushed and… opened his eyes.
The wolf stood by. You could see how greenish lights burned his eyes. Twitch stroked the dog and felt that every muscle in it was springy and tense.
- What are you? - asked Tergach in a whisper and, listening, caught somewhere far above a barely audible rustle.
These are owls chasing bats, he thought. - Who will come here at night. Lie down, Wolf, lie down ... There is no one. We are alone".
And, hugging the dog tightly, he lay still a little with open eyes, then fell asleep and did not wake up again until dawn.

XII

Tergach answered Valka that he had not turned on any lights in the upper rooms. But at the same time he was so embarrassed and frowning that it did not escape the eyes of the boys.
"I'm thinking of moving out of here tomorrow," he announced quite unexpectedly.
- Where to go? Why, Dergach? Do you feel bad here with us?
The jerk was silent for a while ... It was evident that he hesitated and wanted to say something to the guys.
“All right there,” he said with a sigh. - Look for your house. I have both a father and a mother somewhere. As there was a famine, so I got lost from them near Odessa, and now I don’t even know where they are. I think to Siberia, to the city of Barnaul, to make my way, somewhere I have an aunt - she probably knows the address of her parents. Yes, the only trouble is that I don’t know her last name, but I know that her name is Marya. Yes, I remember a little in the face.
- It's hard to find without a surname, Dergach.
"It's difficult," Valka confirmed. - In, let's take at least three neighboring houses from us, and even then there are four Marys in them, if you don’t even count Manka Kurkina, who is one year old, and the goats, whose names are Mashki. And what is your father's last name, Dergach?
- Elkin Pavel, and they used to call me Mitka. It was already when I involuntarily ended up in homeless children, they gave me a nickname there.
- And why, Dergach, are you so suddenly going to leave?
Dergach frowned again.
- And because ... - he said after some thought, - that I found myself here, running away from Cartilage. We are on the main line, on a branch, we accidentally ran into him. He was there with one more, and now, according to some signs, I think that they were heading here too.
- Well, what about you? What is Cartilage to you, chief, or what?
- Cartilage something? - And Tergach looked mockingly at Yashka, as if surprised at the absurdity of such a question. - If the cartilage catches me, it will definitely kill me.
- What will he kill for? Is there such a law for him to kill?
- They have a law.
- From whom - from them?
- The real raiders. I ran away with a stirrup, on which they put me ... And they have such a routine that whoever leaves without permission with a stirrup must be killed, as for treason.
- What is this stirrup?
- How would you say ... Well, the guard ... or an observer who is put up near the house to signal while they are robbing. So Khryashch put me in, and I ran away on purpose ... because of this, two then burned down ...
- Was there a fire?
- Yes, not a fire ... They burned down - that means they got caught and went to jail ... But why are you standing there with your mouths open?
- It hurts wonderfully, Dergach, - Valka answered timidly. - And the story is so terrible, and the words are somehow incomprehensible ...
- If you live with dogs, you'll get the hang of it yourself. And how harmful this cartilage is! How many children he has embarrassed, how many are in correctional colonies because of him! Oh, and I'm tired of this dog life! All the same, if at least I don’t find my own home, I’ll try with all my might to settle down somewhere - to the shoemaker as an apprentice or to the filing cabinet, somewhere, but I’ll stumble. What is there to say? Dergach finished and shook his shaggy head. - It's hard at least, but if you want, you can still get out on a good path ... Let's stop talking about it, let's run better to catch leeches in the river; at the Goat's ford there are scary ones; then we will swim, otherwise why think about grief ...
At home, mother said to Yashka:
“And your father has been looking for you.” Some kind of photograph, he says, didn’t you take it.
- What other photo?
- Ask him yourself. He's rummaging around in the barn.
“Here's another new misfortune,” thought Yashka. And what did he need her for?
Father came out of the barn. He was covered with dust and held in his hands a pile of some yellowed papers.
“Yashenka,” he said affectionately, “didn’t you see a card with a palm tree somewhere?”
- I saw it somewhere!
- Go get it for me...
- Good! - said Yashka and went to the rooms, but, on the way, remembering that the card was left in Dergach's pocket, he returned. - Yes, I don’t remember already, dad, where I saw her. And why did you suddenly need it?
- You need it, honey! And you must remember. If you remember and bring it, I'll give you fifty kopecks.
- Olti-innik? - even Yashka blossomed. - Aren't you going to cheat?
- I'll give it to you right away.
Yashka disappeared, wondering why his father decided to be so generous. It used to happen that you didn’t always get a dime on Sunday, but then all of a sudden a whole fifty kopecks at once.
He jumped out and whistled Valka.
- Valka! Do you know where Dergach is?
- He must be spending the night at the Wolf's. And what?
“Let’s run, Valka, to the Count’s, I really need it.” Take a card from him. Father promised, if I bring it, to give fifty kopecks.
- It's already dark, Yashka. By the time we reach it, the night will come.
- Well, what's the night - but fifty kopecks. Tomorrow we would buy saltpeter and berthollet salt - we will make a rocket.
- Well, let's run - just to one spirit. My mother went to the bath by the way.
Let's go. Yashka ran with an even, measured step, like a real runner-athlete. Valka, however, could not do without frills here. He then quickened, then reduced his step, along the way he imitated either the snorting of the motor, or the puffing of the locomotive.
Here is the turn over the river.
- Well, give me a couple ... Tu-tuu! ...
And suddenly Valka the locomotive braked at full speed; stopped in his tracks and Yashka.
Valka looked in amazement at Yashka, Yashka at Valka, then both turned their heads towards the ruins of the Count. There could be no doubt: a fire was burning in the corner room on the second floor.
- Wow! - Yashka said, coming out of his stupor. - What else is this?
- I told you! I said that Dergach lit the fire. Did you see how embarrassed he was when I asked him about the fire?
- Yes, why should he stagger on top? What was he doing there? You know what, let's sneak up and see what else he's got in there.
- It's scary to peep something, Yashka.
- Here's what's scary! Chai, he is with us at the same time. Yes, you need a card too. Fifties are also not promised every day. Today, the father promised, and the next day he will take it and think it over.
And the two boys set off again along the path.
What a strange and quaint castle at night! Huge lindens with calm peaks almost touch the moon. The gray stone of the ruins is not always distinguishable from the night fog. And the black overgrown pond, in which the stars are reflected, seems to be a deep abyss with fireflies scattered along the bottom.
How strange everything is at night, as if all things had moved from their places. Everything has to be searched first. And the old linden lies as if not where it lay, and the window overgrown with ivy is not in place.
- Get in, Valka.
- And you?
- And now I'll just take off my shoes so that they don't creak.
Stepping quietly with bare feet along the cold stone stairs, Yashka began to make his way upstairs, intending to find out what exactly Tergach was doing there at such a late hour.
He had almost reached the top step, when Valka inadvertently stepped on some kind of plank, which creaked treacherously loudly.
And immediately, to the unspeakable horror of the boys, a dull bass, which could not possibly belong to Dergach, said:
- And as if something rustled downstairs? And another voice, viscous and sharp, answered:
- No one here to make noise. Who will climb here at night!
“We must still block the window,” continued the first. - Go down, I saw the matting there, otherwise someone might see the light from the side of the river.
At these words, the boys were even more frightened, since it was necessary to go down past them. They were about to rush headlong to the window, but a second voice answered:
- Will cost today and so. I don't have a spare candle to go down.
Then slowly the guys began to back away.
They got out to the window and, jumping out to the ground, rushed to run at full speed, leaving even Yanshin's hidden shoes uncollected.

XIII

Having reached the gardens, the children, without discussing everything that had happened, agreed to meet early tomorrow and ran home.
Yashka dived under the covers and, covering himself with his head, pretended to fall asleep.
The father came in and asked the mother:
- Is Yashka already sleeping? Couldn't find a photo. Oh, and it's a pity if he doesn't find it!
- Yes, what is she to you? - the mother, who was already falling asleep, responded from under the covers.
- That's just the point, what is on what. I’ll fill up the photo, she’s worth a fiver, and they promised me five for her. I am sitting, reading a newspaper in the lodge. Some unknown person approaches me. I immediately guessed that he was a visitor. He greeted and asked: “Will you be Maxim Nefedovich Babushkin?” - "I'm talking. "Very nice! I would like to talk to you. If you are not busy, then maybe you would go with me to the neighboring tea house, “Golden Bottom”, and there, over a bottle of beer, I would explain to you the essence of the matter. And I was just about to go home. “What ace,” I say, “you can go in. Wait a minute, I’ll just lock up the coachman.” We went into the tea room, served us a couple of beers, and he got down to business. It turns out that he came with a friend from the city from some society for the study of Russian antiquity. That is, they study various old buildings, estates and churches. Which architect worked, in what year and in what style. And now they became interested in the count's estate. I explained to him that although I had served as a gardener for the count for many years, the estate itself had been built a hundred years before me, so I can’t say anything about the architect. As for the greenhouses and the park, it was all under my supervision. Then he began to ask me what plants were grown and what flowers. I answer him and mentioned the word about the palm tree. He does not believe: "The palm tree cannot grow in the wild in such a climate." “How,” I say, “can’t it? I won’t lie - I still have a photograph from it.” How his eyes sparkled ... “Sell us this photograph,” he offers me, “we will give you five rubles for it. It is not for you, but for us for the collection. I gasped - for all sorts of rubbish and five rubles! Well, I think it’s true that you don’t know where a person’s luck will fall. And I promised to bring him ... Yes, but I can’t find it anywhere.
- Fools people - said, yawning, mother. - They have nowhere to put their money, or what? Last year, too, an artist from Sychikha undertook to draw a portrait, and even paid her a ruble a day. Well, I’d take at least the chairman’s wife or someone else to look at better, otherwise Sychikha - and even without a portrait she’s taken aback to look at! ... And you still look for a card, fives don’t lie under the fence. There Yashka will have to manage his coat by the fall, he has completely grown out of the old one.
“Eh, and we are du-uraki! thought Yashka, carefully leaning out from under the covers. - Oh, and cowards! And what were you afraid of? Peaceful people survey the estate. Yes, what good ones, five rubles were promised to my father. Instead of running, we should climb up to them. Maybe they could help in something - you see, they earned two hryvnias, and we ran away. And what only at night from fear does not imagine!
Yashka pulled the blanket tighter and heard his father turn the switch, turning off the light.
Yashka turned on his side and closed his eyes. He stayed like that for ten minutes. A sweet drowsiness began to seize him, and his thoughts began to mingle, a piece of some kind of dream had already flashed, when suddenly he heard that something softly hit the floor, as if a small piece of plaster had fallen from the ceiling. A minute later, something knocked again.
“Vaska the cat must be pampering in the dark,” thought Yashka and lowered his hand to the floor, looking for something that could scare the cat away. And at that very moment he felt that a small, pea-sized pebble fell right on his blanket.
“Someone jumps through the window. Isn’t Valka already… But why is he so late?…”
Yashka leaned out the window. Near the black fence, he barely made out Valka hiding in the shadows. Yashka waved his hand to him, which should have meant: “Go away, I can’t get out, my father and mother have just gone to bed.” However, Valka stubbornly shook his head and continued to give a signal, calling Yashka.
“Here, take you away! - thought worried Yashka. “What could have happened to him to call at midnight?”
He carefully pulled his trousers up and listened. Sister Nyurka was fast asleep. In the next room, my father was snoring, but my mother was still tossing and turning from side to side.
Yashka silently climbed onto the windowsill, felt the ledge with his hand and quietly descended to the excavation of the foundation. He made his way to the corner along the ditch, and only then did he jump into the soft earth of the strawberry patches.
- What are you? - he pounced on Valka. - Did I tell you to wake up at night?
Instead of answering, Valka excitedly put his fingers to his lips and pulled Yashka by the sleeve.
- So what are you? Yashka asked impatiently, stopping near the bathhouse and not understanding Valka's excited state. And immediately he understood everything, or, rather, did not understand anything - at the wall of the bath he saw a Wolf tied up from somewhere.
- I just wanted to go to bed, I went out to recover, - said Valka, - I look, the dog is running at full speed - and straight to me. I thought I was crazy, but out of fear I jumped right onto the fence. And suddenly I see that it is a wolf.
- Yes, why did Dergach let him out?
- I do not know.
- Here's another new misfortune ... Look, the Wolf is all furry, he was in the water somewhere ... What to do with him now?
- Let's tie him to the bath for now ... And in the morning we'll bring him back. He may have escaped from Dergach.
They tied the dog in the bathhouse ... Once again they agreed to meet early in the morning and parted again.
Yashka began to make his way home the same way. Already near the window, he turned around, and it seemed to him that the top of the lilac bush that grew in the garden near the bathhouse trembled somehow unnaturally strongly, as if it had been rocked from below. An inexplicable uneasiness seized the little boy for some reason. He climbed into the room, not knowing why he bolted the window and could not sleep for a long time, thinking about what had happened.
He must have fallen asleep very soundly afterwards, because somehow he woke up suddenly, with a jerk, from a loud noise and barking.
“Yashka,” the mother shouted, “Yashka, wake up, you devil!”
Yashka jumped up, thinking nothing.
Lai kept getting stronger. It was no longer a simple dog barking at a passing traveler, but desperate anxiety, turning into a frenzied squeal.
Nefedych, grabbing a hunting Berdanka from the wall, hurriedly ran out into the yard.
After half a minute, the barking immediately broke off, and almost immediately there was a roar of a shot.
Yashka, not remembering himself, jumped out into the yard. Towards him came across several people of neighbors. Someone said:
“Someone got into the bathroom. Must be a thief. He stabbed the dog. Nefedych fired, but missed.
Why did he sneak into the bathroom? Why did he attack the dog?
I don't know why, you can ask him. "Well, night! - thought the stunned Yashka, rushing to the bathhouse. “Well, the night is tonight, there’s nothing to say.”

XIV

With a knife blow, Wolf was harmlessly wounded in the upper part of the neck. Father and mother inflicted on Yashka the strictest interrogation about how the "poisoned" dog ended up in the bathhouse.
Taking advantage of the favorable moment, Yashka frankly admitted that the Wolf was hidden by him for the time being, and kept silent about exactly where the Wolf was hiding. And since the lawsuit against the Wolf was not approved by the judge, and besides, the dog proved to be a real hero, protecting the house from an unknown intruder last night, the Wolf was declared an amnesty.
Meeting with Valka, who was already aware of everything that had happened, Yashka dragged him into the garden and there, stopping in a secluded place, put his hand in his pocket.
- Look, Valka! We couldn't see it last night, but this morning I found it tied to the Wolf's collar.
And Valka saw a fragment of the picture - the lower part of the photo with a palm tree. On the reverse side, some letters were obviously drawn, but it was impossible to make out them, because the blood flowing from the neck of the wounded Wolf stained this entire side of the card.
- How did she get on the Wolf's neck?
- Dergach tied! He wanted to write something to us... Maybe some misfortune happened to him. Maybe some stone fell from the wall and crushed him, or he lost his leg in the dark.
- And why only half of the card?
Having decided nothing plainly, the guys went to the "Count" to ask Dergach about everything on the spot.
Near the wall overgrown with ivy, Yashka left Valka to look for the shoes left yesterday, while he himself climbed up.
In the dark pantry he lit a match, and cigarette butts immediately caught his eye. He picked up one. It was the same cigarette butt he had found a few days earlier in the upper room.
“These researchers-scientists were already here,” he thought. The match went out. He lit the second and pulled the door leading to the basement - there was no one in the basement. Then Yashka got back and whistled a prearranged signal. A booming echo answered him with dozens of false whistles, but Twitch did not answer.
It became clear that Dergach had disappeared.

XV

Two days have passed. The children built a strong kennel for the Wolf, put him on a chain, and the Wolf officially assumed the position of the watchman of the Yashka house.
There was not a word about Dergach.
- Moved somewhere further, - said Valka. - Do you remember, he was talking about it all the last days. After all, they are like this: a piece of bread in his bosom - and went wherever his eyes look.
- Why didn't he say goodbye to us? ... And what did he write on the back of the photo?
Yashka took out a piece of the picture, turned it over and, deciding that you couldn’t make out anything here anyway, threw the card onto the grass.
- Let's go swimming, Valka.
Ten minutes after the children ran away, Nefedych came out of the garden gate. In his hands he held a curved garden knife, with which he cut dry branches, and a shovel.
In the yard, he stopped just near the place where the guys had recently been talking, and began to wrap a cigarette. His glance fell accidentally on a card lying on the grass.
“Look, the guys messed up again,” he grumbled, picking up the piece. He turned the find in his hands, took out his glasses and, looking closely at the raised piece, spread his arms: - Oh, you, you sort of devils! I'm looking for, looking for a photograph, twice a day a person visits her, and they tore it up. Now my five is gone ... Who needs a sort of scrap? He slipped the card into his pocket and, sighing heavily, went home.
When Yashka and Valka were returning home for dinner, before they reached the gate, they heard the barking of the Wolf and the cry of their father.
- Shut up, you damned one, look how furious you are! ... Come in, come in. Don't be afraid, he's on a chain.
The gate swung open, and a stranger came out to meet the guys. Short, slightly stooped, with an uneven row of small teeth, grinning in a satisfied smile. His right hand was bandaged with a bandage.
He looked askance at the boys and turned sharply to the opposite side of the sidewalk.
In the yard, Yashka ran into his father, who was holding a brand new crispy piece of paper in his hand.
Yashka quickly looked at the grass near the fence. The piece of photograph he had thrown was not there.
After dinner he went into the garden, lay down and thought. And the more he thought, the more intrusively the thought became attached to him that all the events of the last days were not accidental, but had a strong connection with each other, and that this very photographic card was the connecting link of everything that had happened.

XVI

Just at this time, Yashka's father received a vacation and gathered with his mother to stay for three days in the city, to the eldest married daughter.
Aunt Daria was invited to take care of the house at this time. But Aunt Daria was already old, besides, she was excessively fat and a little deaf, and therefore, in the morning, her mother began to pump up Yashka:
- Yes, see that you go to bed early and don’t forget to lock the doors ... But don’t pester Nyurka, otherwise I’ll come - I’ll give you a thrashing. Yes, if I notice that you, like last time, opened the cabinet with jam with a nail, then it’s better to run out of the house in advance. - Etc. First, Yashkin's possible crimes were listed, then there was a list of punishments that would follow these crimes.
Yashka answered everything briefly:
- No, Mom. What are you attached to? You would have cracked me on the neck ahead of time ... He said that I would not, so I would not.
But as soon as the cart disappeared, taking his parents to the station, Yashka rushed into the garden in a hurricane, whistling Valka, who was always ready to appear. And the two of them began to cackle and gallop on the grass like young foals released into the wild.
- I am now the owner of the house! - proudly declared Yashka. - V, how fun it is when father and mother occasionally leave! We'll come up with something fun these days.
- Come on, Yashka, let the snake go ... with a ratchet.
- As a ratchet, the policeman does not order, because the horses are frightened. Yes, and without a ratchet, he does not order not to confuse telephone wires.
- And we will run into the field, away.
Work boiled with might and main; took out a glass of flour, brewed a paste. Yashka brought his father's newspaper and a bast pulled out of a rug, and Valka brought shingles.
When Yashka was already setting up a “fetter”, that is, three threads that converge at the center, an interesting ad caught his eye. It was written there:
The parents of the boy Dmitry Yolkin earnestly ask the person who wrote a note about him in the Rostov newspaper Molot to tell his son our address: Saratov province, state farm Krasny Pakhar.
“Honest mother, they are looking for Dergach!” gasped Yashka. - Remember, he told us that someone wrote about him in the newspaper.
- But Dergach doesn't know anything. Maybe he will never know at all - will he get a newspaper?
- And where did he fail! No to wait ... It's a pity, Valka, Dergacha. Although he was rude, he was good. He stood up for us. He cooked a goat for a wolf ... He fixed a slingshot for me. And so he left ... And how glad he would be, Valka!
Having finished the kite, the guys let it dry, then they took the Wolf with them and ran into the field to launch it.
But, despite the fact that the kite went straight up and hummed merrily with a ratchet, scaring away the ringing larks, the guys' mood dropped. It was a pity for Dergach and a shame that he had so unexpectedly and absurdly left his happiness. I was going to Siberia to look for some kind of aunt. Where else can you find her without a last name? Is it far from the Saratov province here?
The serpent, suddenly saluting, quickly went down. Yashka started running with all his might, pulling on the thread, but nothing helped. The serpent saluted again and fell like a stone somewhere on the trees behind the "Count".
They began to tighten the ball of thread, but the threads soon broke off. “Oh, mother would not have asked! thought Yashka. - After all, he took the ball from her for a while without asking. I'll have to go look for snakes."
Let's run. The serpent sat high in the branches of one of the trees in the grove that started from the "Count" and adjoined the gloomy Kudimovsky forest. Yashka was about to climb a tree, when his attention was attracted by the barking of the Wolf.
Interested, Yashka ran to the barking and saw that the Wolf was jumping in the bushes near a narrow path and, joyfully waving his tail, rattled some black object with his teeth.
The guys snatched his find from the Wolf and looked at each other. It was nothing more than Tergach's cap, tattered and stained with soot.
“Valka,” said Yashka, after thinking a little, “maybe Dergach didn’t run away at all?” Maybe he was just scared of someone and hiding somewhere around here? I know there is a hut near here.
- And who should he be afraid of?
- Whom! Yes, at least these ones that climb around the estate.
- So you yourself told me that they were scientists.
- I know what I said. Yes, something seems to me now, Valka, that they are, perhaps, not exactly scientists, but some others.
Meanwhile, the Wolf, quietly, squealing joyfully, ran along the path, sniffing it and wagging its tail without ceasing.
- Look, the Wolf is so happy. Honestly, he smelled Dergacha's trail. You know what, Valka, let's run after the Wolf, he will lead us somewhere. There are even several huts here, in which they spend the night on the mowing. And now it's not too late. The sun is still high.
Valka hesitated, but, always obedient to the wishes of his comrade, agreed.
- Well, Wolf! - And Yashka waved his cap in front of his nose. - Well, look!
The wolf, jumping high, licked Yashka in the face, as if showing that he understood what they wanted from him, buried his nose in the ground, turned around and, at once pulling the string stretched from the collar to Yashka's hand, dragged the boy behind him.
- Look how he loves Dergach.
- Still would! The jerk of one meat fed him as much as he always put to sleep with him.
It is difficult to say how long this rapid advance along the path lasted. But it must have been a lot, because the trees had already begun to cast long shadows, and the guys were sweating a lot, when the Wolf suddenly stopped, spun around, sniffing the ground, and resolutely turned right from the path into the forest.
Half an hour later, it definitely became clear to Yashka that in the direction where the Wolf was rushing, there was not a single place where Tergach could hide, except ... except only for the “hunting house”.
The building, known as the “hunting lodge”, was located seven versts from the “Count”. Once built at the whim of the count, far from the roads, on the edge of a huge swamp, it has remained almost untouched to this day. True, everything that could be carried away from it was plundered during the war years, but the house itself, built from blocks of gray stone lying in abundance, survived.
After the revolution, one of the burned peasants wanted to adapt the house for housing, but the place turned out to be quite uncomfortable: on the one hand - stone, on the other - swamps. So no one moved into the house, and it was overgrown with weeds and damp moss.
Entire clouds of midges darted between the trees. The sun did not warm the damp earth through the dense foliage. The women did not come here for mushrooms either, because only milk-white fiddlers and fiery-red fly agarics grew here.
And only in early spring and towards autumn, when hunting was allowed, one could hear the dull echo of the shot of a lone hunter hunting for ducks. And even that is rare: there were few hunters of their own in the town, and it is far from here to the city.
The Wolf dragged the guys along with him to this house.
A little before reaching the place, Yashka stopped and, passing Valka the string from the dog's collar, said:
- Stay here. Sit behind this stone and see that the Wolf does not bark. And I'll go ahead and scout carefully. And who knows who else you will run into. In which case, let the strekacha go back.
Valka cringed. It was evident that he did not like this order, but he knew that it was useless for Yashka to object, and, besides, the house was just around the corner, very close by. He nestled between two large boulders and pulled the impatiently torn Wolf to him.
Turning behind a bushy hill, Yashka saw the roof of the "hunting house". Hiding behind the leaves, he crept close and listened.
Apart from the buzzing of mosquitoes, the croaking of frogs, and the dreary squeak of some marsh bird, he did not hear a single sound that could tell him that the house was inhabited.
Then Yashka cautiously approached the porch, wondering what exactly made the Wolf so persistently pull towards this place. He pulled the doorknob and found himself inside the house. There was no one in the first room, but for the fact that people were here recently, they said sausage peelings, a bottle of wine and cigarette butts scattered on the floor.
He raised his cigarette butt and again without difficulty recognized the same sort of cigarettes with golden letters, which he had twice found in the Grafskoye.
“Wow,” he thought, “our researchers seem to have been here already!” There was a pile of hay in the next room. Then he looked into a small side room. Here he immediately stumbled upon a box with some tools and two unknown objects that looked a bit like shells.
“What can all this mean? thought Yashka. “Eh, yes, it’s better, perhaps, to get out of here, and what’s good, they’ll think that I’ve come to steal something.”
And he darted back to the porch.

XVII

And where, in fact, was Dergach at that time?
Having gone, as usual, in the evening to the basement of the "Count", to the Wolf, he soon fell asleep. He woke up again from the slight growl of a dog. This time the noise upstairs was quite distinct; it intensified, then subsided.
Finally, steps were heard in the pantry next to the basement. Light from a lit candle filtered through a narrow slot in the iron door. Someone shuffled their feet on the stone floor, then there was a rustle of hay thrown on the floor, and one could hear how a person lay down on an armful to rest.
"Who else has this brought here?" thought Dergach. And, having patted the Wolf so that he was silent, Tergach, sneaking to the door, looked into the crack.
And although the candle dimly illuminated the stone vaults of the pantry, Tergach immediately recognized the man.
"Count," he whispered, feeling his knees tremble. - "Count" returned to his estate, but why? What does he want here? - A terrible thought burned Dergach at the same time ...
That's why he saw the Count and Cartilage at the main line station. They themselves were heading to the shtetl, but he, Dergach, did not find any place where it would be safer to run away than here, to the shtetl. Clearly, since the Count is here, Cartilage is somewhere nearby.
But what to do now? The wolf can hardly restrain himself from barking, and the count is not going to leave. Maybe he'll even stay here overnight? And at dawn, if he notices the door leading to the basement and looks in here? What then? Then the end.
Plans for escaping this trap flashed through Twitch's mind one after the other. No... nothing comes out. Then he took out a photograph, pulled out a pencil stub, lying among other little things in his pocket, and in the dark wrote at random:
“Yashka, I’m locked up… The cartilage is here, in Grafskoye, tell the police.”
Twitch tied the photograph to the collar, dragged the Wolf to the narrow window and stuck the dog's head in there.
The wolf did not force himself to beg ...
It was heard how he fell into the water and swam, heading for the opposite shore.
Twitch hid in a corner, curled up and threw hay at himself. “Still, it’s easier without a dog,” he thought, otherwise she would definitely give out barking.
A few minutes later, someone else quickly entered the next pantry, and Twitch immediately recognized Cartilage by his voice.
“Count,” he said curtly, “something is wrong…
There are cops somewhere here ... I walk past the pond, I hear something flopping from the wall. I look, the dog is swimming; I went to her ... waited until she began to get out ... illuminated her with a flashlight - I looked, she had some kind of package tied to her neck ... I already grabbed a revolver to slam her, but she rushed like crazy into the bushes and disappeared ... Wait ... the dog fell into the water from this wall… Wait, where does this iron door lead to?
At these words, Tergach cringed even more and almost stopped breathing.
In the next room, they discussed something in a whisper.
Then suddenly the door swung open. At first, Dergach did not see anyone. But then he saw that both raiders prudently lay down on the floor, apparently fearing that a shot would immediately fire at them from the open door. They had guns in their hands.
“There is no one,” said the count.
However, Cartilage, in two leaps, found himself near a heap of hay lying in a corner, and kicked him hard with his foot.
A malevolent cry escaped him when he saw Tergach huddled up in front of him:
- Ah ... - so where are you ... so you are following us ... sent a report to someone with a dog, to the police, or what? ... Whose dog was that? ...
And Cartilage hit Twitch with all his might. He staggered and, making a desperate attempt, if not to justify himself, then to gain time, replied:
- I did not write to the police, but to the boys I knew, so that they would not come here tomorrow, because there is someone else here. This is their dog, they hid it here.
“Ah… I know… who they are…” gritted Cartilage, addressing the count. “They’ve been hovering around here all the time the other day, near the estate. One of them is the son of that same watchman ... Well, you know which one ... to whom I always go for a photograph ...
- Wait, - the count interrupted him, - the note can still get into the police ... The devil knows what this little snake wrote in it. She must be returned at all costs... otherwise the whole thing may collapse... The dog must be wandering around the yard until morning... Try to get into the yard and kill her... and rip off the inscription on the collar... This is not a joke... We are still nothing but they didn’t ... Cartilage hit Tergach again and said angrily:
- Here you go, mess with the dog now! ... It’s not enough of your own business, is it ... Well, okay ... Stay here ... Yes, tie the hands of this bastard ... And look, be on the alert ... In case of anything ... knock, and go there yourself ... we’ll meet there.
And he disappeared.
Cartilage returned an hour and a half later. He was angry, and his right hand was covered in blood.
- Cursed dog! - he said. - She was locked in a bathhouse ... I made my way there, hit her with a knife, but she, like a frenzy, dug into my arm ... Then the sodom rose, someone even banged after me, but my happiness is past.
- A note?
What the hell is a note! There was a whole card hanging to the collar. I pulled - half tore off, and half remained there. Na, look...
The count looked at the piece of paper handed to him and shouted:
- Listen, do you know what it is? This is exactly half of the very photo that we need; but only her entire bottom, which we need most of all, remained there ... How did she get to you? he asked, jerking Twitch by the shoulder.
Dergach replied.
- Oh you! - Count Cartilage said venomously. - I was afraid of a dog bite. Well, what would you tear it all off! And the whole thing would have been over ... And now what ... to rip through the entire section of greenhouses, or something ...
- Hey, you're good too! - snarled angry Cartilage. - Your Excellency! The owner of the estate - and cannot show the place where the palm tree grew.
- Fool! Yes, when the peasants kicked us out of the estate, I was only twelve years old.
- And whose face is it on the card?
- This is my older brother. I was very similar to him. Yes, and our whole family was similar to ourselves, we have a family nose and chin ... Well, but what. what to do now?
Cartilage thought and said:
"We've got to get out of here just in case." We'll wait a day there, and then we'll see.
- And this one? - And the count shook his head, pointing to Tergach lurking in the corner.
We'll take this with us too. I'll first interrogate him thoroughly, how and why he ended up here.
The raiders quickly got out, and, pushed by kicks, Twitch wandered along the path indicated to him into the forest.
One of the branches caught his cap and threw it to the ground. Twitch could not lift it, because his hands were tightly bound.

XVIII

From the tools scattered on the floor of the “hunting lodge” to which Twitch was brought, he realized that the raiders had come here for some serious business.
He was pushed into a large room, and he flew into a corner.
Coming to his senses a little, Dergach began to look around. He was immediately amazed that the window facing the outside was wide open and had no bars. He stuck his head in there, but the night, black, impenetrable, hid the outlines of all objects.
And immediately Dergach decided to run away. A small shard of glass protruded from the half-rotten frame of the knocked-out window.
Leaning against the window sill, he began to grind the rope that bound him on a sharp ledge, wondering at the same time why the usually cunning and prudent Cartilage had made such a mistake this time and left him in a room from which one could easily escape.
Meanwhile, there was an altercation going on in the next room.
- And the devil pulled your dad, - said Cartilage, - to contact this palm tree! Just think, what a sign: today it was, and the next it rotted. Well, I would take at least some kind of stone ... well, at least if not a stone, then a solid tree - a linden or oak, or even a palm tree! And how he did not have enough to realize that without him the peasants would not build this palm tree, like him, for every winter in glass and it would disappear in the first frost!
“But who knew something,” objected the count. - Who then thought that all this for a long time and seriously! Yes, not only the father, but none of ours thought so. Everyone expected that the revolution would last a month ... two ... and then everything would go back to the old way. After all, they hoped for the white army!
- That's what they hoped for. Don't dig up the whole garden! This is where you get suspicious. All this is necessary quickly and imperceptibly - I found a place, dug it out, opened it and run away ... I’m thinking if it’s possible to call the old gardener to the estate ... Let him directly show the place where the palm tree grew.
- Dangerous… can guess.
- He would only show us, but there ... - Here Cartilage whistled.
- Well, what to do with it?
And Dergach realized that the question had been raised about him.
- With this? ... But let's have a bite to eat and rest, and then I will interrogate him, and head into the swamp ... I have old scores with him. It still won't make any sense. That's when he ran away with the stirrup, brute.
“Wait! - thought Twitch, shaking off the cut ropes from his hands. “Only you saw me!”
He carefully climbed onto the window sill, about to jump down, when he suddenly staggered and convulsively clutched the frame jamb with his hands.
The sky turned a little gray, the stars faded, and with the faint flashes of the predawn lightning, Tergach made out right under the window a steep deep cliff, at the bottom of which, because of densely overgrown yellow water lilies, glimpses of water peeked out, covering in some places a viscous swamp smelling of rot.
And only now Tergach understood why he was left unattended in a room with an open window, and only now did he feel the full horror of his situation.
But the years spent in a constant struggle for existence, spending the night under bridges, dangerous journeys under wagons and all sorts of obstacles that had to be overcome during the years of vagrancy, did not pass without a trace for Dergach. Dergach did not want to give up yet. Standing on the windowsill, he began to look around. And up above, above the window overlooking the cliff, he noticed another, small window leading to the attic. But before him, even standing up to his full height, Dergach could not reach at least one and a half yards.
“Eh, if you fly into the quagmire this way and that way,” Tergach thought, bitterly pursing his lips, “if you disappear this way and that way, then it’s better to try anyway.”
His plan was to swing open half of the outer frame to its full capacity, climb onto the top rung, grab onto the ledge of the dormer window, and, making his way to the attic, escape through the exit door.
Elsewhere Twitch would have done this without much difficulty - he was tenacious, light and flexible - but here the whole point was that the frame was very dilapidated, weakly hinged and could not withstand the weight of the boy.
Still, there was no other choice.
Twitch opened the window to failure and pushed some piece of wood between the window sill and the lower hinge so that the window would not slosh. He looked down, and it seemed to him that the black mouth of the predatory quagmire opened wide, waiting for the moment when he would break. He averted his eyes and no longer looked down.
Then, with the caution of a circus gymnast weighing the slightest movement, he stepped on the bottom bar with his foot. Immediately there was a slight but ominous crunch, and the frame sank a little. Then, clinging to the ledges of the unevenly built wall, trying to reduce his weight as much as possible, he climbed onto the middle crossbar. Something cracked again, and several screws flew out of their hinges. Twitch swayed and, sticking his fingers into the wall, froze, expecting that he was about to fly down with the frame.
Now the hardest part remained, I had to put my foot on the top bar, push off at once and grab onto the ledge of the dormer window, which was already almost there.
Twitch's legs tensed, fingers, ready to cling to the ledge in a death grip, spread wide. "Well," he thought, "it's time!..."
And he rushed with the speed of a snake that felt that someone had stepped on its tail. There was a strong crack, and the frame torn off by the push began to slowly fall, pulling out the last screws that had not yet flown out with its weight.
And Twitch, already crawling in through the dormer window, heard her plummet into the chugging swamp.
Climbing into the attic, Tergach rushed to the exit door. But as soon as he pushed the door, he realized that it was bolted from the outside and he was locked up again.
He then lay down on a dusty earthen flooring ... it seems that for the first time in all the years of homelessness he felt that tears of despair were about to burst from his eyes.
Meanwhile, the crack of the broken frame alarmed the raiders. Voices were heard from below.
“He threw himself out the window,” said the count.
- He thought, probably, that he will swim out. Well, you can't get out of there! Can you feel the stench? This disturbed marsh gas rises...
- And what about now?
- What is "how"? He drowned, and there he is dear. After the interrogation, I myself wanted to send him along the same path.

XIX

Little by little, to Dergach, who realized that the raiders considered him dead, the completely lost hope of salvation began to return.
With the dawn, Cartilage and the count disappeared somewhere. Twitch, taking advantage of their absence, tried all means to break out of his dungeon, but the door was firmly locked from the outside and did not move at all. There was also nothing to disassemble the roof.
Another day has passed. The jerk was hungry and exhausted. During this time, he ate only a piece of bread, accidentally left in his pocket, and drank two handfuls of water seeping through a crack in the roof during the night rain.
On the third day, the raiders returned. They were excited about something.
“The main thing,” Khryashch said, “the old man shows me a piece of a photograph, and he himself says: “The boys tore it apart, I found only half of it on the grass.” I almost jumped up. “It doesn’t matter,” I say, “let’s at least half.” And when I gave him the promised five, he was almost stunned with joy.
- So, today!
- Today. I already got the horse... we will load it with a pack and transport it here, then we will open it at night, and it's over.
Both soon left.
“Today they will bring something, probably a steel box, and they will break it open,” Tergach thought, remembering the tools he had seen below. - And then they will hide ... And what about me? Am I really left to starve like this?” And Dergach, completely exhausted, lay down on the ground and, crouching like a mouse, to the gray dust, fell into some kind of semi-forgetfulness.
He came to his senses by evening, when he heard footsteps below. Back, he thought.
But this time the steps were somehow stealthy, unsteady, as if some stranger was quietly tiptoeing through the rooms.
Twitch crawled to the door and peered through the crack. There was no one to be seen at the entrance. He waited. Footsteps were heard again, and someone came out onto the porch, looking around cautiously and, apparently, intending to run away.
- Yashka! - Shouted Tergach suddenly, staggering. - Yashka! I'm here... here, locked in the attic...
A minute later, Yashka was already at the door.
- Twitch, - he answered excitedly, - you can’t open it here ... a huge lock hangs and is all rusty ...
Twitch looked like a wolf cub that had just been locked in a cage. He pulled the door, got angry and bit his lips...
- Rather, they should return now ... What, doesn’t it work out? Well, then get me a rope from below, I'll go down the old road, and you will drag me through the window ...
Yashka ran for the rope and slipped it to Tergach through the crack of the door... The rope crawled through tightly, and while Tergach was pulling it, he briefly told Yashka about everything that had happened.
- Well, now ... run to the side room and wait for me to start descending ... Wait!
The guys shuddered ... Somewhere not far away a horse neighed ...
- Run ... - whispered Dergach, - they are returning ... Run to the police, tell them that Cartilage and the count are breaking into the box here, bandits ... Tell me that it will be too late by dawn ... Help me out, Yashka ...
And Yashka, rolling down the stairs, crashed into the bushes, without stopping, waved his hand to the lurking Valka ... And, despite the branches of the trees, painfully whipping his face, the frightened guys ran to the place.

XX

As soon as Twitch managed to pull a thick rope towards him through the gap, the count and Cartilage approached the house, holding the bridle of a loaded horse.
Stomping their feet heavily, the raiders brought a small square object into the rooms, and by the way something hard hit the floor, Twitch guessed that it was a fireproof box.
Then, during the whole night, a fuss, a creak, and some kind of hissing, similar to the noise of a kindled primus stove, were heard below.
Obviously, things were moving slowly, because several times desperate curses were heard from below.
Dawn came, and help did not come. And now Twitch was not so much interested in the thought of whether he would have to get out soon, but whether the police would be able to arrive in time and capture the damned Cartilage before the raiders broke open the box and disappeared from here.
Joyful exclamations from below told Dergach that the box had finally been opened. Several minutes of silence and hurried fuss followed. At the bottom, they were probably examining the contents of the box.
- Phew, it's hot ... I'm all sweaty, - Cartilage said.
- My tongue almost cracked too ... Go to the key, bring some water.
But Cartilage, obviously for reasons that seemed to him quite weighty, answered:
- Here's another! Why should I go alone ... let's go together ... and then immediately, without wasting a minute, we will take everything and run away, otherwise the horses must have missed already ...
- Are you afraid that I would take everything and run away? the Count asked mockingly. - All right, let's go for a drink.
Through the gap, Tergach saw how they hurriedly headed for the edge of the forest and disappeared into the bushes. “Now they will return, take away everything that was in the box, and disappear,” Tergach thought. - And again Cartilage will be free, and again always be afraid and tremble, no matter how he gets in your way. Eh! But why don’t ours go!”
And suddenly a daring thought came to Dergach's head.
- Ah, Cartilage! he whispered. - You always only knew that to beat and beat me, you wanted to throw me into the swamp ... Wait a minute, Cartilage! We'll get even with you now.
Obviously, some kind of fever intoxicated Tergach, because previously he, who trembled at the mere mention of Cartilage's name, would never have decided on such a risky act.
He quickly lowered the rope from the dormer window along the sheer wall ... fastened one end to the post that supported the roof, and slid down the rope. Finding himself on the window sill of a side room, he jumped off and, running into the next room, slammed the heavy door firmly shut and pushed it onto the iron bolt.
"Try it, get here now!" he thought gloatingly, looking around at the strong bars of the windows overlooking the forest.
He could see the raiders coming back.
He stood outside the door. Footsteps were heard on the porch. The door shook. She shuddered again.
And immediately an angry and at the same time frightened exclamation was heard from outside:
- What the hell! Someone is stuck there.
Then Twitch shouted from behind the door with undisguised embittered triumph:
- Cartilage ... you, a dog, wanted to throw me into a swamp! Throw yourself now out of anger! I won't open it for you and you won't get any of what's in the steel box.
The roar of a shot that rang out in response ... and the bullet that pierced the door did not embarrass Tergach, for he prudently stood behind the stone wall.
- Open better, dog son! roared the count and Cartilage in one voice. - Open it, otherwise we'll break the door anyway!
In response to this, Tergach laughed somehow unnaturally loudly from excitement. He knew for a fact that the raiders couldn't break down the door with their bare hands, because all their tools were left in the house. It was important for him to buy time and detain the bandits until help came.
Suddenly he fell like a stone to the floor, because the count, sneaking from the other side, put his hand with a revolver through the lattice window.
Twitch crawled close to the wall. The count's hand writhed, trying to bend enough to reach Tergach's bullet.
The bullet penetrated the floor a quarter of it. The count forced his hand to bend again and fired again. The bullet moved two more inches towards Dergach. But the count's hand was not rubber, and he could no longer bend it. Then the count bounced off the window and ran around the corner, obviously thinking up another plan.
Taking advantage of this moment, Tergach darted into a side room, the window of which overlooked the swamp.
Here he was relatively safe. - But why don't ours go? he whispered anxiously. “Because I won’t be able to hold out for very long. Cartilage will invent something... He was convinced that Cartilage had already invented something after a few minutes, when he smelled the smell of burning.
He leaned out into the next room and saw that on the floor, shreds of hay thrown through the grate were burning. He wanted to trample, but immediately jumped back, because the bullet hit the stone wall, not far from his head.
“But they will burn it! - Dergach thought in fear. - They will throw hay until the floor catches fire. But why don't the police come to the rescue?
Obviously Cartilage knew exactly what he was doing. Among the devices brought by the raiders to break into the cabinet were flammable liquids. The flame, having reached them, immediately raged with tenfold force, spreading across the floor and spreading heavy, suffocating smoke.
“Gone! - thought, choking, Tergach. - He disappeared completely. Smoke climbed into the eyes, nose, throat. Twitch's head spun, he staggered and leaned against the wall.
"Gone completely ..." - he thought again, already completely losing consciousness.
His knees buckled, and - he fell, no longer hearing how the shots of the militiamen who came to the rescue and opened fire rumbled through the forest.

XXI

Dergach woke up in the hospital. And the first thing he noticed was the whiteness surrounding him. White walls, white pillows, white beds. A woman in a white coat approached him and said:
- Well, now I woke up, dear! Come on, drink this.
And, slightly rising on his elbow, Dergach asked:
- Where is Cartilage?
- Sleep ... sleep ... - the white woman answered him. - Stay calm.
As if through a dream, Tergach saw a man in glasses who took his hand.
It was calm, warm and quiet, and most importantly - everything around was so white and clean. There was no trace of black rags and soot-stained hands.
- Sleep! the woman told him again. "You'll get better soon and you'll be home soon."
And Dergach - a little tramp, who only with a huge effort of will got out of the way of the raiders onto a solid road - closed his eyes, repeating in a barely audible whisper: "Home soon."
A day later, Yashka and Valka were on a date with Dergach. Both of them were dressed in huge robes, combed and washed. Twitch smiled at them, nodding his slender, cropped head. At first everyone was silent, not knowing how to start a conversation in such an unusual setting, then Yashka said:
- Dergach! Get well soon. The count is arrested, he turned out to be a real count. They dug a box under the palm tree, hidden by the old count before running to the whites. There was a lot of good stuff in the box, but because of you, our policemen managed to seize everything. You come out soon, all the boys will follow you in herds now, because you are a hero! - Where is Cartilage?
- Cartilage was killed when he fired back.
- Dergach, - Valka said timidly, - and your family members were found on the ad. And the pioneers are trying to get you a ticket. And the Wolf bows to you too... He loves you very much, Dergach.
Dergach sighed. A good childish smile spread over his washed, still pale face, and, closing his eyes, he said joyfully:
- And how good it becomes to live ...
1928

The history of making the Count's Ruins cake goes back… to be honest, I have no idea where it goes. But about how this recipe appeared in my cookbook, I will now tell you, and, of course, I will attach the recipe itself.

A long time ago, at the dawn of human civilization, when I was still studying at the university, spring suddenly came. The holiday of March 8 was approaching and Dmitry decided to plan a surprise for me: bake it with his own hands Count ruins cake. He dragged a miracle stove out of my dorm room for a while and locked himself in his room for a couple of hours.

Even then I knew that Dima could cook well, but I was convinced that he was also good at baking. Since then, this cake has been in second place in our family after. And although the recipe for its preparation is now in my cookbook, but it is prepared, albeit rarely, by the husband. I must say that the recipe for the Count's ruins cake is not so complicated, but it will take about two hours to prepare it.

So, today we will prepare Count ruins cake.

To prepare this cake, we need to do:

• Dough: 2 eggs, 1 cup sugar, 2 tsp. soda, 2 tbsp. cocoa, 1 cup sour cream, 1.5-2 cups flour;
• Cream (impregnation): 800 g sour cream, 8 tbsp. sugar, 1 cup walnuts;
• Glaze: 4-6 tbsp. sour cream, 4-6 tbsp. sugar, 4 tbsp. cocoa, 30 g butter.

First, let's prepare the dough.
Eggs thoroughly grind with sugar. Add 2 teaspoons of soda slaked in vinegar, 2 tablespoons of cocoa, 1 cup of sour cream. Mix everything very well. After that, gradually add about 2 cups of flour. The dough should turn out like thick sour cream.
Grease a baking sheet with oil and heat in the oven. Pour the dough onto a heated baking sheet and bake until tender, about 20-30 minutes. Allow the finished cake to cool and then cut it into cubes.


For making cream or the so-called impregnation according to the Count ruins cake recipe, mix sour cream well with sugar and add a glass of walnuts at the very end. Everything is simple here, except for the fact that half of the walnuts are eaten even before they end up in sour cream. Yes, by the way, it is better to chop the nuts (chopped, crumbled into cabbage), but without fanaticism.

Glaze preparation.
We mix 4 tbsp. spoons of sour cream and 4 tbsp. spoons of sugar. The amount of sour cream and sugar can be increased to 6 tablespoons. Add 4 tbsp. tablespoons of cocoa and mix again. After that, pour in 30 g of melted butter and our glaze is ready. At this stage, you have to fend off children who suddenly need a spoonful of this delicious icing like air.

Now you can do the direct production of the Count's ruins cake.


We are preparing a tray in advance, on which we will destroy (build) our ruins.
We dip the cut "cubes" of baked cakes into the impregnation and put them on a tray in the form of a slide along the entire length of the tray. We fill the finished hill with glaze, helping ourselves with a spoon to evenly distribute it over the ruins, as in the first photo.


leave for a couple of hours at room temperature so that it soaks (do not forget about the ubiquitous children).
The cake is very tasty and tender.

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Comments

1. Alla 11 Dec 2012 17:47

   When I was still studying, we made such a cake in a hostel. The whole company did. And it was amazingly delicious. So many years have passed, and I have not cooked it anymore. Thanks for the reminder.

2. Natasha 11 Dec 2012 21:30

   If you add more frozen or canned cherries to this cake when adjusting, it will be even tastier, but in general then it will be called a curly pinscher, I advise you to try

3. Irina 11 Dec 2012 23:48

   Yes, and this recipe reminded me of the good old days ... Only we did everything a little differently. Interesting. I'll have to dig around and find that recipe.

4. Olga 12 Dec 2012 04:57

   I have never seen such a recipe before. It is necessary to prepare a cake Count's ruins for the New Year.

5. Nadyusha 12 Dec 2012 06:18

   Cool cake I have never cooked this one myself, but I tried something similar at a party And it’s true, it’s very tasty! I have to try my own recipe!

6. Elena 12 Dec 2012 21:38

   I haven’t cooked this one, but it looks like the Prague one. We must take note. Jim, thanks for the recipe!

7. Elena 14 Dec 2012 19:45
8. Ollie 16 Dec 2012 17:24
9. Natabul 17 Dec 2012 22:12

   Thanks for the recipe. I don’t eat such sweets for a long time, but for the children I like to cook something interesting for the holiday. Let this time be the Count ruins cake!

10. Elena 18 Dec 2012 04:58

    Turned out to be a gorgeous cake. So it goes into the mouth. And most importantly, it is not difficult to prepare.

11. Elena Semidelukha 18 Dec 2012 11:31

    Never prepared this. The recipe reminds me of the Black Prince cake - this is mine from childhood. There, such cakes are simply smeared with cream. But I haven't been able to for a long time now. Either the sour cream is not the same, or I am not friends with soda. Something doesn't come out.

• eggs 3 pieces
• sugar 450 grams
• wheat flour 1.5 cups
• cocoa powder 6 tbsp. spoons
• milk 150 milliliters
• baking powder for the dough 1 sachet
• butter 100 grams
• sour cream 400 grams
• nuts 50 grams

To prepare, you may need:

Cooking method:

1. Beat the eggs with 100 grams of sugar so that the sugar dissolves.

2. 150 g of milk and 100 g of sugar are heated, stirring constantly until the sugar dissolves

3. Pour milk into eggs, add flour, cocoa 2st. spoons, baking powder. Mix everything well so that there are no lumps.

4. Lubricate the mold with butter, pour the dough into it and send it to the oven at 170-180 degrees for 30 minutes. The time depends on the oven. Readiness is checked with a wooden stick.

5. We take out the cake from the oven, let it cool a little.

6. Making a cream. To do this, beat 350 grams of sour cream well with 150 grams of sugar.

7. Prepare fudge. To do this, put 50 grams of sour cream, 100 grams of sugar and 4 tbsp cocoa in a saucepan. spoons. Over medium heat, stirring constantly, bring to a boil. Add 70 grams of butter, mix and set so that the fondant cools down a little (it will then become thicker and will not drain from the cake).
8 Cut the cake into 2 parts. Cut the top into small pieces. Dip the cake slices in the cream and lay them in a slide on its lower part. Drizzle fondant on top.
We send the refrigerator for at least 4 hours, and preferably at night!
You can sprinkle whatever you like on top, such as nuts or coconut flakes.

Addition:

If the cake turned out to be very thick, then it can be cut into three parts. Cut the top half into small pieces as in the recipe. Grease the lower part with cream and put the middle part on it. The cream can be used the same as in the recipe, or creamy.

Butter cream with cocoa

Cream with a fat content of 33-35% - 500 ml

Powdered sugar - 60 gr

Cocoa powder - 30 gr

1. Sift the powdered sugar through a sieve. Then repeat the same with cocoa.

2. Thoroughly mix the powder and cocoa with a whisk.

3. Pour the cream into the mixer bowl, beat for 1-2 minutes until thick, adjusting the mixer speed (minimum-maximum).

4. Next, add the dry ingredients. Beat at low speed for 20-30 seconds, then at high speed for 2-3 minutes until fluffy soft peaks. In the process, it is advisable to stop the mixer 1-2 times and run a spatula along the walls of the container so that there are no unnecessary lumps left.

The finished chocolate cream perfectly holds its shape, has a pleasant shade, and the taste is tenderness itself. Light, not cloying, it melts in the mouth, evoking light and airy associations.

Not far from Moscow, just 32 km along the Kyiv highway, there is an interesting place: the Petrovskoe-Alabino Luxurious estate. In the past, the estate (the last quarter of the 18th century) of N. A. Demidov is going through a time of complete oblivion.

N. A. Demidov was the grandson of the Tula blacksmith Nikita Demidov, who distinguished himself in the manufacture of Russian guns. During the Swedish war, Peter I made Demidov a supplier of weapons, in 1701 he gave him factories and lands near Tula, in 1702 - factories in the Urals with the right to attribute peasants to them. So the foundation was laid for the colossal wealth of the Demidov family.

The estate complex was built according to the design of the famous architect Matvey Kazakov, in the style of classicism. A brick two-story house (1776-1780), decorated with pilasters, was turned into ruins by the efforts of nature and man. In the past, this pompous building had four identical facades, with two-column porticos with balconies at the doors - windows of the upper floor. The house was hung with a low drum with a dome, the top of which was crowned with a statue of Apollo. Cast-iron sphinxes flaunted on the front staircase - the products of the Demidov factories. Of the four outbuildings surrounding the house, only one has truly survived (it houses a branch of the Savings Bank). The entrance to the estate is marked by dilapidated obelisks.

It should be noted that the decline of the estate began in the 50s. XIX century, when Petrovsky-Alabino was bought by the Meshcherskys, who failed to properly appreciate all the artistic significance of their possession. Now the descendants of an ancient family live in one of the outbuildings and are trying to restore
estate. On the eve of how the bailiffs were to try for the third time to evict the family of the princes Meshchersky from the wing in their family estate, one of the news agencies spread the message that the princely family was preparing an act of self-immolation in protest.

In Petrovsky itself, the Church of Peter the Metropolitan with the thrones of the Intercession of the Virgin and St. Nikita, and a separate bell tower also by Kazakov (1785-1786). The lower tier of the bell tower, square in plan, is decorated with porticoes of the Doric order without pediments. Above it rises a cylindrical tier of ringing on a high plinth. The openings of the belfry are arched. The tier is completed with a small dome with false lucarnes and crowned with a through drum with the axis of the cross. In the 1930s. the temple was closed and converted into a civil building, and the bell tower was preserved in its original form. The warm Intercession Church, attached to it in 1858, also suffered during the years of hard times, but was reopened in the 1990s. Now the temple has been restored and is functioning.

A pine and spruce park adjoins the territory of the estate. Great place for walking.