Page:The Kiss and Other Stories by Anton Tchekhoff, 1908.pdf/279

 off and watched the conflagration. The scattered logs no longer burned, but smoked fiercely; and the student, handling the hose, sent the water sometimes on the logs, sometimes into the crowd, sometimes at the women who were carrying pails.

“George!” cried the ifrightened girls reproachfully. “George!”

The fire ended. Before the crowd dispersed the dawn had begun ; and all faces were pale and a little dark — or so it always seems in early morning when the last stars fade away. As they went to their homes the muzhiks laughed and joked at the expense of General Zhukoff's cook and his burnt cap: they reenacted the fire as a joke, and, it seemed, were sorry it had come so quickly to an end.

“You put out the fire beautifully, sir,” said Olga to the student. “Quite in the Moscow way; there we have fires every day.”

“Are you really from Moscow?” asked one of the girls.

“Yes. My husband served in the Slaviansky Bazaar. And this is my little girl.” She pointed to Sasha, who pressed close to her from the cold. “Also from Moscow, miss.”

The girls spoke to the student in French, and handed Sasha a twenty-kopeck piece. When old Osip saw this his face grew bright with hope.

“Thank God, your honour, there was no wind,” he