I turned round, and saw a Cossack coming up from
the fort, leading a Bashkir horse, and making signs to me from afar to
wait for him. I stopped, and soon recognized our "_ouriadnik_."
After joining us at a gallop, he jumped from the back of his own horse,
and handing me the bridle of the other--
"Your lordship," said he, "our father makes you a present of a horse,
and a pelisse from his own shoulder." On the saddle was slung a plain
sheepskin "_touloup_." "And, besides," added he, hesitatingly, "he gives
you a half-rouble, but I have lost it by the way; kindly excuse it."
Saveliitch looked askance at him.
"You have lost it by the way," said he, "and pray what is that which
jingles in your pocket, barefaced liar that you are?"
"Jingling in my pocket?" replied the "_ouriadnik_," not a whit
disconcerted; "God forgive you, old man, 'tis a bridlebit, and never a
half rouble."
"Well! well!" said I, putting an end to the dispute. "Thank from me he
who sent you: and you may as well try as you go back to find the lost
half rouble and keep it for yourself."
"Many thanks, your lordship," said he, turning his horse round; "I will
pray God for ever for you."
With these words, he started off at a gallop, keeping one hand on his
pocket, and was soon out of sight.
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