Entering a mean, dirty courtyard covered with glass, they passed thence into a cellar where a number of customers were seated around small wooden tables.

What thereafter was done by Selifan and Petrushka God alone knows.

At all events, within an hour's time they issued, arm in arm, and in profound silence, yet remaining markedly assiduous to one another, and ever ready to help one another around an awkward corner.

Still linked together--never once releasing their mutual hold--they spent the next quarter of an hour in attempting to negotiate the stairs of the inn; but at length even that ascent had been mastered, and they proceeded further on their way.

Halting before his mean little pallet, Petrushka stood awhile in thought.