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Maximof employed an agent to do the dirty work of the estate; he rarely came personally in contact with his people and scarcely knew the names of any of them. Kakin, the agent, was no better liked by the peasants; he was a bully, and rarely failed to improve when he could upon the severity of his master's measures towards them. A week after the events above recorded Barin and agent sat together in the estate office over the weekly consultation, when the question of the intended marriage of a serf came up for discussion, a man of the name of Ivan Patkin.

"He may marry whom he pleases in his own village," said the Count. "Who is the woman?"

"Timothy Drugof's daughter Olga, in this village," said Kakin; "Ivan of course lives at Drevno." This was a village within the boundaries of Maximof's estate, but seven miles at least from the manor-village of Toxova, in which Olga lived with her father.

"Tell the fool to marry a woman in Drevno or remain a bachelor," said the Count; "you know very well and so do the peasants that I will have no intermarrying amongst the villages."

"I will stop the proceedings then. I told the fellow of your objection, but he was impertinent—I will not tell you what he said."

"You should have given him the knout; do I pay you wages to sit and listen while my peasants use improper language towards their Barin?"

"I gave him the knout; but he is, as you may know, a sulky devil, and, instead of doing him good, the flogging caused him to abuse and threaten me to my face; I was somewhat afraid of the man; he is not one to meet alone in the forest on a dark night."

"Afraid of a serf? You forget, my friend, that by the admission you may endanger your position; for if you show yourself useless to me we must part. My authority must be absolute and you are my representative. As for this marriage," the Count ended, "I do not desire that Olga should leave this village—she is useful at the manor-house."

"I will do my best," said the agent. He did not mention that Ivan Patkin and his friends at Toxova had practically turned him out of the village with contemptuous words and threats directed not only against himself but also against the Count; nor that the peasants had interfered at the very beginning of Ivan's flogging and had rescued him by force.

"Tell the Barin to interfere with Ivan's marriage if he dares!" one of the peasants had said. "We would deprive him of no rights; we both are and remain his serfs and live upon his land; he loses nothing if one of us goes from one village to another!"

The agent's way of "doing his best" in this matter was discreet. Knowing that the day fixed for Ivan's wedding was the following Saturday at Drevno, this being Thursday, he contrived to be absent for two days in a distant part of the estate; so that when a deputation of peasants from Drevno came over to fetch the bride early on Saturday morning, he was not in the village to prevent them.

Ninety-nine times out of a hundred the Barin would have been unaware in such a case of the disobedience of his people; but it so happened that the girl Olga was required that day at the manor-house in order to act as substitute for one of the servants, who fell ill. Thus Olga's absence was remarked and commented upon and Maximof himself happened to be at hand and heard the fact mentioned.

"Where is the wench then?" he asked.

The woman who had been into the village to fetch Olga replied that the peasants had told her it was Olga's wedding-day and she had gone to Drevno to be married.

"What?" roared the outraged Barin; "married?—to whom?"

"To a peasant in that village," replied the trembling messenger, "one Ivan Patkin."

"Where is Kakin—why has he allowed the wench to go?" asked the Count, almost speechless with rage. Then he remembered that the agent was away collecting fines and duties in other villages.

"Let Kiril put the horses to," he roared; "I will go myself."

Some one tremblingly reminded the lord that Kiril was dead.

"Some other fellow then," he roared.

Maximof took his knout, an ugly leathern whip of many tails, and paid a visit—while waiting for his sledge—to the parents of Olga, who protested with tears that the agent had never told them of the Barin's desire that Olga should not be married out of her own village.

"As if we should dare to disobey the Barin's will," they cried. "It is not even as though we had wished the wench married there; naturally we would rather keep her in Toxova, near ourselves—but go she would!"

Maximof laid about him freely with his knout; he spared neither age nor sex, and the cries which arose from the household included those of Olga's grandparents as well as her parents, and of the children small and large. All wept and scolded in a body when the Barin had departed, blaming one another and the agent and the Barin himself, but principally Olga, for bringing this trouble upon them.

"There is Peter Kuzmin in this village," they cried, "who would have had her; but no, nothing would do but to marry Ivan Patkin, who is a devil, not a man! If the Barin fetches her back, she shall marry Peter without delay. Are we all to suffer again for her sins?"

Meanwhile the village of Drevno was en fête. The bride and bridegroom drove hither and thither, from house to house, receiving congratulations and presents, and drink flowed freely. The wedding ceremony would take place early in the afternoon, if the priest condescended to turn up in time. He was not one to put himself out, however, for a mere marriage of serfs. Maidens walked about the village singing the dirges and melancholy songs which are or used to be a recognised prelude to the marriage of one of their companions. In these songs all the possible sorrows and troubles of matrimony are reviewed, and the poor bride is reminded again and again that she is plunging into a bottomless sea of woe and would have done far better to keep out of the married state.

In some cases the bride accompanies this cheerful band, taking part with the maidens in foretelling her own troubles by singing the solo verses, which consist of a repetition of the dismal prophecies with her own acquiescence thrown in. But Olga preferred to drive around with Ivan of whom she was extremely fond; for this—strange to say—was a love-match, a rare thing indeed in those days and among the serfs, whose marriages were usually arranged for them by their manor-lord with a view to the particular needs of any portion of his estate in the matter of population.

Olga was merry this day and happy. She knew very well that there might be trouble; that the Barin would be displeased and would cause old Kakin to threaten all manner of pains and penalties. But in Drevno the peasants were not afraid of Kakin; they knew well enough that he dared not fulfil his threats, and that he would prefer to report to his master that certain floggings had been inflicted than actually inflict them. As for the Barin himself, he rarely came to the village. The people of Toxova lived, as it were, under his eye; but at Drevno it was different, and the peasants consequently enjoyed a certain measure of independence, won for themselves and by themselves out of Kakin, the agent, whom they had successfully intimidated.

Even the Barin, Olga knew, could not unmarry her, once the church had performed the rite; neither could he separate husband and wife, though he might compel Ivan to transfer himself to Toxova.

It was a quarter to two when the Barin came swinging into the village at a hand-gallop, his three-horsed sledge—or troika—travelling at a splendid pace over the hard snow road. The wedding was to take place at two and Olga was now being dressed by her maidens at the house of Ivan's parents. The melancholy songs were in full chant; the bride and chorus were all, as the occasion demanded, in tears; every girl wailing and sobbing and singing as they decked their companion for the solemn rite.

Count Maximof drove straight to the Starost's house; this was the elected chief-peasant of the village, and the Barin put up his trap here, leaving with Gavril, the driver, a message for the Starost that if he were too late and the marriage should have taken place against his wishes and commands, the entire population should be not only fined but flogged also.

The Starost sent over for Ivan Patkin, the bridegroom, and communicated to him the disturbing news: the Barin had arrived to stop the wedding. The Starost was a sturdy independent man, like the rest of the Drevno villagers; he was entirely on Ivan's side in the matter.

"But the Barin is the Barin," he observed, "and the priest will obey him. He has gone straight to Father Michael's. What is to be done?"

Ivan Patkin stood and cursed and fingered the axe which hung at his belt. He was anxious to marry Olga, to whom he was sincerely attached. This fatal-looking hitch at the last moment was maddening. His eyes seemed to grow red in a sudden access of rage and of hatred for the Barin.

"I will kill the devil," he said. "The old men tell us that the peasants of the next estate rose against their Barin, who oppressed them, and slew him, and that the Tsaritsa Catherine closed her eyes. Let us do the same."

"No," said the Starost; "that is going too far, Ivan. The Tsar Paul is not like his mother and the laws are different also. Disappear in the forest with Olga, if you will, and be married to-morrow, or to-night after the Barin has gone. You will be knouted, no doubt, and fined, but you will have Olga."

Ivan was too wild with rage to argue quietly. "I see there is no help to be got from you," he said, and he withdrew hastily to take counsel with others. On his way through the village he met the Barin himself returning from his visit to the priest whom he had abused and threatened and browbeaten until the unfortunate cleric began to fear that the furious man would end by knouting him, but Maximof dared not raise his hand to beat the priest, though his fingers itched to flog some one. It was at this moment that he met Ivan.

Ivan, though furious, nevertheless removed his cap upon encountering his master. The peasant in him was too strong. Away from the Barin he would have told himself that he would not only not salute the Count if he should meet him, but that he would fall upon him and strangle the tyrant. In the Barin's presence he was cowed and his independence and courage vanished, though not his hatred.

"Who are you?" said the angry Count.

"Ivan Patkin," replied the man.

Then the Barin fell upon him, raining abuses and curses and knout-blows; and in a moment the wretched peasant was upon his knees blubbering and beseeching, rage in his heart, but in his veins the craven blood distilled by generations of oppression.

"Come to Toxova for a flogging once a month for a year," said the Barin, panting with his exertions; "and when you come Olga shall come also. I will show you both, and the rest of the village too, that I am to be obeyed. As for marrying, you shall marry the oldest hag in your own village, since you will have a wife."

Count Maximof felt somewhat relieved, but he continued his walk to the house wherein the bride had been dressed for her marriage. He found her alone, deserted by her maidens—who had fled from the wrath to come—and he flogged her without pity and without regard for her shrieks and her appeals for mercy.

Then, his anger somewhat appeased, he repaired to his estate office and bade them bring him tea, sending a message to Gavril, the driver, that he would return as soon as the horses should be sufficiently rested. Olga might return in his sledge, he added, with fine generosity; she deserved to be made to walk through the forest night or no night, but he would let her drive in mercy.