Page:Anthology of Modern Slavonic Literature in Prose and Verse by Paul Selver.djvu/32

8 you. But there's one curious thing ; how can you get along without a passport? That's what puzzles me. You know, I've lost your passport. I put it away somewhere among some papers, and its got lost. And they're strict about passports here. You won't manage to go five versts before they'll collar you."

Champune lifts up his head and looks at Kamyshev mistrustfully.

"Oh, yes. You'll see. They'll tell by your face that you've got no passport, and they’ll want to know at once who you are, Alphonse Champune? We know these Alphonse Champunes. Would you mind stepping this way for a short journey?"

"You're joking."

“What should I joke for? A lot of good it would be to me! But just notice this one thing. Please don't whine afterwards and write letters. I won't lift a finger, when they lead you past here in manacles."

Champune jumps up, and pale, with eyes wideopen, he begins to pace across the room.

"Why do you treat me like this?" he says, clutching at his head in desperation. "Good Heavens! Oh, cursed be the hour in which the pernicious idea entered by mind to leave my native land?

"Come, come, come! It was only a little joke on my part!" remarks Kamyshey, mitigating his