All sorts of
articles and wares were carried and carted in every direction;
people moved about hastily, care-worn, spurring on their horses
excitedly, shouting at one another, filling the street with
unintelligible bustle and deafening noise of hurried work. They
busied themselves on a narrow strip of ground, paved with stone,
built up on one side with tall houses, and the other side cut off
by a steep ravine at the river, and their seething bustle made
upon Foma an impression as though they had all prepared
themselves to flee from this toil amid filth and narrowness and
tumult--prepared themselves to flee and were now hastening to
complete the sooner the unfinished work which would not release
them. Huge steamers, standing by the shore and emitting columns
of smoke from their funnels, were already awaiting them. The
troubled water of the river, closely obstructed with vessels, was
softly and plaintively splashing against the shore, as though
imploring for a minute of rest and repose.
"Your Honour!" a hoarse cry rang out near Foma's ears,
"contribute some brandy in honour of the building!"
Foma glanced at the petitioner indifferently; he was a huge,
bearded fellow, barefooted, with a torn shirt and a bruised,
swollen face.
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