of Heaven!"

"Fool, you don't even know how to steal!" cried Tchelkache,
contemptuously. He tore his shirt under his waistcoat and, gritting
his teeth in silence, began to bandage his head.

"Have you taken the money?" he asked, at last.

"I haven't taken it, brother; I don't want it! It brings bad luck!"

Tchelkache thrust his hand into his waistcoat pocket, withdrew the
package of bills, put one of them in his pocket and threw all the rest
at Gavrilo.

"Take that and be off!"

"I cannot take it . . . I cannot! Forgive me!"

"Take it, I tell you!" roared Tchelkache, rolling his eyes frightfully.

"Pardon me! When you have forgiven me I'll take it," timidly said
Gavrilo, falling on the wet sand at Tchelkache's feet.

"You lie, fool, you'll take it at once!" said Tchelkache, confidently,
and raising his head, by a painful effort, he thrust the money before
his face. "Take it, take it! You haven't worked for nothing! Don't
be ashamed of having failed to assassinate a man! No one will claim
anyone like me. You'll be thanked, on the contrary, when it's learned
what you've done. There, take it! No one'll know what you've done and
yet it deserves some reward! Here it is!"