"Anatoly Rybakov. The bronze bird (Бронзовая птица, англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

uniform. Beads of sweat shone on his face and he kept brushing the flies
away with his hand.
"You've certainly put on weight at the commune," Genka noted.
"The food's pretty good," Korovin said in his artless way.
"What brings you here?"
Misha explained that the children's home where Korovin lived was being
converted into a labour commune and that it was taking over the local manor
and estate for the purpose. They were expecting the headmaster tomorrow.
Korovin had been sent on ahead to make inquiries.
Out of modesty, Misha did not tell his friends that properly speaking
this had been his idea. He had met Korovin in the street on the previous day
and had learned from him that the children's home was looking for a place
near Moscow in which to establish a labour commune. Misha said he knew of a
place that he thought would be suitable. Their camp, he said, was in the
former estate of Karagayevo. True, it was in Ryazan Gubernia, but that was
not far from Moscow. The estate was untenanted. Nobody was living in the
huge manor-house. Altogether it was a wonderful place, in fact the best that
could be found for a commune. That same day Korovin had passed the
information on to the headmaster, who told him to go with Misha, promising
to follow on the next day.
That was how Korovin really came to be here, but Misha did not tell his
friends the whole story so that they would not think he was boasting. All he
told them was that there would be a labour commune here.
"Boy!" Genka whistled. "I can just see the countess letting them in!"
"Who's that?" Korovin asked with a questioning look at Misha.
"The estate," Genka explained, sawing the air with his hands> "belonged
to a landlord, a certain Count Karagayev. He beat it after the Revolution,
taking everything with him, except the house, of course. There's only an old
woman, a relative of the count's or a hanger-on, living in the place. We
call her the countess. She's looking after the manor and won't let anybody
in. And that goes for you, too."
Korovin again inhaled through his nose, but with a shade of injury this
time:
"How d'you mean she won't let us in? The estate belongs to the
government."
"Exactly," Misha hastily interposed. "The countess has a safeguard for
the house only because it's a historical monument. Either Tsaritsa Elizabeth
or Catherine II once stayed in it. And the countess thrusts that safeguard
into everybody's noses. But judge for yourself, if all the houses the tsars
and tsaritsas stayed in are to remain empty, then where are the people going
to live?" And considering the question settled, he said, "Come on, chaps!
Korovin and I've been hauling these sacks all the way from the station. You
carry them now."
Genka quickly lifted one of them. But Slava made no move.
"You see, Misha," he said, "yesterday Igor and Seva...."
"Oh yes," Genka said, interrupting him and lowering the sack to the
ground, "I was going to tell you, but Slava shot his mouth. You're always
doing that, Slava. Well, you see, Misha," he faltered, "the thing is.... How
to put it ...."
"Stop beating about the bush," Misha said angrily. " 'You see,' 'you