It was rumoured that he had been sent to Siberia for something.
Yakov Mayakin was very queerly built.

Short, thin, lively, with a little red beard, sly greenish eyes, he looked as though he said to each and every one: "Never mind, sir, don't be uneasy.

Even though I know you for what you are, if you don't annoy me I will not give you away." His beard resembled an egg in shape and was monstrously big.

His high forehead, covered with wrinkles, joined his bald crown, and it seemed as though he really had two faces--one an open, penetrating and intellectual face, with a long gristle nose, and above this face another one, eyeless and mouthless, covered with wrinkles, behind which Mayakin seemed to hide his eyes and his lips until a certain time; and when that time had arrived, he would look at the world with different eyes and smile a different smile.
He was the owner of a rope-yard and kept a store in town near the harbour.

In this store, filled up to the ceiling with rope, twine, hemp and tow, he had a small room with a creaking glass door.