Nothing could daunt Ostap.
He began to see the light.
And, finally, when he realized what had happened, he almost fell over the banister with laughter.
"So you can't get into the apartment.
But it's so simple."
Trying not to dirty himself against the naked engineer, Ostap went up to the door, slid a long yellow fingernail into the Yale lock, and carefully began moving it up and down, and left and right.
The door opened noiselessly and the naked man rushed into the flooded apartment with a howl of delight.
The taps were gushing.
In the dining-room the water had formed a whirlpool.
In the bedroom it had made a calm lake, on which a pair of slippers floated about as serenely as swans.
Some cigarette ends had collected together in a corner like a shoal of sleepy fish.
Vorobyaninov's chair was standing in the dining-room, where the flood of water was greatest.
Small white waves lapped against all four legs.
The chair was rocking slightly and appeared to be about to float away from its pursuer.
Ostap sat down on it and drew up his feet.
Ernest Pavlovich, now himself again, turned off all the taps with a cry of "Pardon me! ! Pardon me!", rinsed himself, and appeared before Bender stripped to the waist in a pair of wet slacks rolled up to the knee.
"You absolutely saved my life," he exclaimed with feeling. "I apologize for not shaking your hand, but I'm all wet.
You know, I almost went crazy."
"You seemed to be getting on that way."
"I found myself in a horrible situation."
And Ernest Pavlovich gave the smooth operator full details of the misfortune which had befallen him, first laughing nervously and then becoming more sober as he relived the awful experience.
"Had you not come, I would have died," he said in conclusion.
"Yes," said Ostap, "something similar once happened to me, too.
Even a bit worse."
The engineer was now so interested in anything concerned with such situations that he put down the pail in which he was collecting water, and began listening attentively.
"It was just like what happened to you," began Bender, "only it was winter, and not in Moscow, but Mirgorod during one of those merry little periods of occupation, between Makhno and Tyunuynik in '19.
I was living with a family.
Terrible Ukrainians !
Typical property-owners. A one-storey house and loads of different junk.
You should note that with regard to sewage and other facilities, they have only cesspools in Mirgorod.
Well, one night I nipped out in my underclothes, right into the snow. I wasn't afraid of catching cold-it was only going to take a moment.
I nipped out and automatically closed the door behind me.
It was about twenty degrees below.
I knocked, but got no answer.
You can't stand in one spot or you freeze.
I knocked, ran about, knocked, and ran around, but there was no answer.
And the thing is that not one of those devils was asleep.
It was a terrible night; the dogs were howling and there was a sound of shots somewhere nearby.
And there's me running about the snowdrifts in my summer shorts.
I kept knocking for almost an hour.
I was nearly done.
And why didn't they open the door- what do you think?
They were busy hiding their property and sewing up their money in cushions.
They thought it was a police raid.
I nearly slaughtered them afterwards."
This was all very close to the engineer's heart.
"Yes," said Ostap, "so you are engineer Shukin."
"Yes, but please don't tell anyone about this.
It would be awkward."
"Oh, sure!