Mikhail Bulgakov. The Fateful Eggs -
66 >
his hands as if to ward off some terrible vision.
"You must show us," Polaitis added sternly. "Leave him alone. You can
see the state he's in."
"Send me to Moscow," begged Alexander Semyonovich, weeping.
"You really don't want to go back to the farm again?"
Instead of replying Feight shielded himself with his hands again, his
eyes radiating horror.
"Alright then," decided Shukin. "You're really not in a fit state... I
can see that. There's an express train leaving shortly, you can go on it."
While the station watchman helped Alexander Semyonovich, whose teeth
were chattering on the battered blue mug, to have a drink of water, Shukin
and Polaitis conferred together. Polaitis took the view that nothing had
happened. But that Feight was mentally ill and it had all been a terrible,
hallucination. Shukin, however, was inclined to believe that a boa
constrictor had escaped from the circus on tour in the town of Grachevka.
The sound of their doubting whispers made Feight rise to his feet. He had
recovered somewhat and said, raising his hands like an Old Testament
prophet:
"Listen to me. Listen. Why don't you believe me? I saw it. Where is my
wife?"
Shukin went silent and serious and immediately sent off a telegram to
Grachevka. On Shukin's instructions, a third agent began to stick closely to
Alexander Semyonovich and was to accompany him to Moscow. Shukin and
Polaitis got ready for the journey. They only had one electric revolver, but
it was good protection. A 1927 model, the pride of French technology for
shooting at close range, could kill at a mere hundred paces, but had a range
of two metres in diameter and within this range any living thing was
exterminated outright. It was very hard to miss. Shukin put on this shiny
electric toy, while Polaitis armed himself with an ordinary light