CHAPTER II
'Let me shake myself first, daddy,' said Arkady, in a voice tired fromtravelling, but boyish and clear as a bell, as he gaily responded tohis father's caresses; 'I am covering you with dust.'
'Never mind, never mind,' repeated Nikolai Petrovitch, smilingtenderly, and twice he struck the collar of his son's cloak and his owngreatcoat with his hand. 'Let me have a look at you; let me have a lookat you,' he added, moving back from him, but immediately he went withhurried steps towards the yard of the station, calling, 'This way, thisway; and horses at once.'
Nikolai Petrovitch seemed far more excited than his son; he seemed alittle confused, a little timid. Arkady stopped him.
'Daddy,' he said, 'let me introduce you to my great friend, Bazarov,about whom I have so often written to you. He has been so good as topromise to stay with us.'
Nikolai Petrovitch went back quickly, and going up to a tall man in along, loose, rough coat with tassels, who had only just got out of thecarriage, he warmly pressed the ungloved red hand, which the latter didnot at once hold out to him.
'I am heartily glad,' he began, 'and very grateful for your kindintention of visiting us.... Let me know your name, and your father's.'
'Yevgeny Vassilyev,' answered Bazarov, in a lazy but manly voice; andturning back the collar of his rough coat, he showed Nikolai Petrovitchhis whole face. It was long and lean, with a broad forehead, a noseflat at the base and sharper at the end, large greenish eyes, anddrooping whiskers of a sandy colour; it was lighted up by a tranquilsmile, and showed self-confidence and intelligence.
'I hope, dear Yevgeny Vassilyitch, you won't be dull with us,'continued Nikolai Petrovitch.
Bazarov's thin lips moved just perceptibly, though he made no reply,but merely took off his cap. His long, thick hair did not hide theprominent bumps on his head.
'Then, Arkady,' Nikolai Petrovitch began again, turning to his son,'shall the horses be put to at once? or would you like to rest?'
'We will rest at home, daddy; tell them to harness the horses.'
'At once, at once,' his father assented. 'Hey, Piotr, do you hear? Getthings ready, my good boy; look sharp.'
Piotr, who as a modernised servant had not kissed the young master'shand, but only bowed to him from a distance, again vanished through thegateway.
'I came here with the carriage, but there are three horses for yourcoach too,' said Nikolai Petrovitch fussily, while Arkady drank somewater from an iron dipper brought him by the woman in charge of thestation, and Bazarov began smoking a pipe and went up to the driver,who was taking out the horses; 'there are only two seats in thecarriage, and I don't know how your friend' ...
'He will go in the coach,' interposed Arkady in an undertone. 'You mustnot stand on ceremony with him, please. He's a splendid fellow, sosimple--you will see.'
Nikolai Petrovitch's coachman brought the horses round.
'Come, hurry up, bushy beard!' said Bazarov, addressing the driver.
'Do you hear, Mityuha,' put in another driver, standing by with hishands thrust behind him into the opening of his sheepskin coat, 'whatthe gentleman called you? It's a bushy beard you are too.'
Mityuha only gave a jog to his hat and pulled the reins off the heatedshaft-horse.
'Look sharp, look sharp, lads, lend a hand,' cried Nikolai Petrovitch;'there'll be something to drink our health with!'
In a few minutes the horses were harnessed; the father and son wereinstalled in the carriage; Piotr climbed up on to the box; Bazarovjumped into the coach, and nestled his head down into the leathercushion; and both the vehicles rolled away.