"Moosie, you haven't any pity for your little hubby."
"Get out, you glutton," came the reply from inside.
The engineer did not give in, however.
He was just about to continue his appeals for the goose, which had been going on unsuccessfully for two hours, when a sudden rustling made him turn round.
From the black-green clumps of bamboo there had emerged a man in torn blue tunic-shirt-belted with a shabby twisted cord with tassels-and frayed striped trousers.
The stranger's kindly face was covered with ragged stubble.
He was carrying his jacket in his hand.
The man approached and asked in a pleasant voice:
"Where can I find Engineer Bruns?"
"I'm Engineer Bruns," said the goose-charmer in an unexpectedly deep voice. "What can I do for you?"
The man silently fell to his knees.
It was Father Theodore.
"Have you gone crazy? " cried the engineer. "Stand up, please."
"I won't," said Father Theodore, following the engineer with his head and gazing at him with bright eyes.
"Stand up."
"I won't."
And carefully, so that it would not hurt, the priest began beating his head against the gravel.
"Moosie, come here!" shouted the frightened engineer. "Look what's happening!
Please get up.
I implore you."
"I won't," repeated Father Theodore.
Moosie ran out on to the verandah; she was very good at interpreting her husband's intonation.
Seeing the lady, Father Theodore promptly crawled over to her and, bowing to her feet, rattled off:
"On you, Mother, on you, my dear, on you I lay my hopes."
Engineer Bruns thereupon turned red in the face, seized the petitioner under the arms and, straining hard, tried to lift him to his feet. Father Theodore was crafty, however, and tucked up his legs.
The disgusted Bruns dragged his extraordinary visitor into a corner and forcibly sat him in a chair (a Hambs chair, not from Vorobyaninov's house, but one belonging to General Popov's wife).
"I dare not sit in the presence of high-ranking persons," mumbled Father Theodore, throwing the baker's jacket, which smelt of kerosene, across his knees.
And he made another attempt to go down on his knees.
With a pitiful cry the engineer restrained him by the shoulders.
"Moosie," he said, breathing heavily, "talk to this citizen.
There's been some misunderstanding."
Moosie at once assumed a businesslike tone.
"In my house," she said menacingly, "kindly don't go down on anyone's knees."
"Dear lady," said Father Theodore humbly, "Mother!"
"I'm not your mother.
What do you want? "
The priest began burbling something incoherent, but apparently deeply moving.
It was only after lengthy questioning that they were able to gather that he was asking them to do him a special favour and sell him the suite of twelve chairs, one of which he was sitting on at that moment.
The engineer let go of Father Theodore with surprise, whereupon the latter immediately plumped down on his knees again and began creeping after the engineer like a tortoise.
"But why," cried the engineer, trying to dodge Father Theodore's long arms, "why should I sell my chairs?
It's no use how much you go down on your knees like that, I just don't understand anything."
"But they're my chairs," groaned the holy father.
"What do you mean, they're yours?
How can they be yours?
You're crazy.
Moosie, I see it all.
This man's a crackpot."
"They're mine," repeated the priest in humiliation.
"Do you think I stole them from you, then?" asked the engineer furiously. "Did I steal them?
Moosie, this is blackmail."