Page 230 - the-idiot

val of the gentleman who was so proud of his fists. He was
known to none of Rogojin’s followers, but as they passed
by the Nevsky, where he stood begging, he had joined their
ranks. His claim for the charity he desired seemed based on
the fact that in the days of his prosperity he had given away
as much as fifteen roubles at a time. The rivals seemed more
than a little jealous of one another. The athlete appeared in-
jured at the admission of the ‘beggar’ into the company. By
nature taciturn, he now merely growled occasionally like
a bear, and glared contemptuously upon the ‘beggar,’ who,
being somewhat of a man of the world, and a diplomatist,
tried to insinuate himself into the bear’s good graces. He
was a much smaller man than the athlete, and doubtless
was conscious that he must tread warily. Gently and with-
out argument he alluded to the advantages of the English
style in boxing, and showed himself a firm believer in West-
ern institutions. The athlete’s lips curled disdainfully, and
without honouring his adversary with a formal denial, he
exhibited, as if by accident, that peculiarly Russian object—
an enormous fist, clenched, muscular, and covered with red
hairs! The sight of this pre-eminently national attribute was
enough to convince anybody, without words, that it was a
serious matter for those who should happen to come into
contact with it.
None of the band were very drunk, for the leader had
kept his intended visit to Nastasia in view all day, and had
done his best to prevent his followers from drinking too
much. He was sober himself, but the excitement of this cha-
otic day—the strangest day of his life—had affected him so