“You’dbettermindyoudon’tgetintotroublewithsuchgoings-on，mygirl，“saidSofya。“DidyouhearhowMashenkawaskickedandlashedwiththereins？You’dbetterlookout，orthey’lltreatyouthesame。“
“Well，letthem！“
Varvaralaughedintoherkerchiefandwhispered:
“Ihavejustbeenwiththepriest’sson。“
“Nonsense！“
“Ihave！“
“It’sasin！“whisperedSofya。
“Well，letitbe。WhatdoIcare？Ifit’sasin，thenitisasin，butbetterbestruckdeadbythunderthanlivelikethis。
I’myoungandstrong，andI’veafilthycrookedhunchbackforahusband，worsethanDyudyahimself，cursehim！WhenIwasagirl，Ihadn’tbreadtoeat，orashoetomyfoot，andtogetawayfromthatwretchednessIwastemptedbyAlyoshka’smoney，andgotcaughtlikeafishinanet，andI’dratherhaveaviperformybedfellowthanthatscurvyAlyoshka。Andwhat’syourlife？Itmakesmesicktolookatit。YourFyodorsentyoupackingfromthefactoryandhe’stakenupwithanotherwoman。Theyhaverobbedyouofyourboyandmadeaslaveofhim。Youworklikeahorse，andneverhearakindword。I’dratherpineallmydaysanoldmaid，I’drathergethalfaroublefromthepriest’sson，I’dratherbegmybread，orthrowmyselfintothewell。
“It’sasin！“whisperedSofyaagain。
“Well，letitbe。“
Somewherebehindthechurchthesamethreevoices，twotenorsandabass，begansingingagainamournfulsong。Andagainthewordscouldnotbedistinguished。
“Theyarenotearlytobed，“Varvarasaid，laughing。
Andshebegantellinginawhisperofhermidnightwalkswiththepriest’sson，andofthestorieshehadtoldher，andofhiscomrades，andofthefunshehadwiththetravellerswhostayedinthehouse。Themournfulsongstirredalongingforlifeandfreedom。Sofyabegantolaugh；shethoughtitsinfulandterribleandsweettohearabout，andshefeltenviousandsorrythatshe，too，hadnotbeenasinnerwhenshewasyoungandpretty。
Inthechurchyardtheyheardtwelvestrokesbeatenonthewatchman’sboard。
“It’stimewewereasleep，“saidSofya，gettingup，“or，maybe，weshallcatchitfromDyudya。“
Theybothwentsoftlyintotheyard。
“IwentawaywithouthearingwhathewastellingaboutMashenka，“
saidVarvara，makingherselfabedunderthewindow。
“Shediedinprison，hesaid。Shepoisonedherhusband。“
VarvaralaydownbesideSofyaawhile，andsaidsoftly:
“I’dmakeawaywithmyAlyoshkaandneverregretit。“
“Youtalknonsense；Godforgiveyou。“
WhenSofyawasjustdroppingasleep，Varvara，comingclose，whisperedinherear:
“LetusgetridofDyudyaandAlyoshka！“
Sofyastartedandsaidnothing。Thensheopenedhereyesandgazedalongwhilesteadilyatthesky。
“Peoplewouldfindout，“shesaid。
“No，theywouldn’t。Dyudya’sanoldman，it’stimehediddie；
andthey’dsayAlyoshkadiedofdrink。“
“I’mafraidGodwouldchastiseus。“
“Well，letHim。
Bothlayawakethinkinginsilence。
“It’scold，“saidSofya，beginningtoshiverallover。“Itwillsoonbemorning。Areyouasleep？“
“No。Don’tyoumindwhatIsay，dear，“whisperedVarvara；
“Igetsomadwiththedamnedbrutes，Idon’tknowwhatIdosay。
Gotosleep，oritwillbedaylightdirectly。Gotosleep。“
Bothwerequietandsoontheyfellasleep。
Earlierthanallwoketheoldwoman。ShewakedupSofyaandtheywenttogetherintothecowshedtomilkthecows。ThehunchbackAlyoshkacameinhopelesslydrunkwithouthisconcertina；hisbreastandkneeshadbeeninthedustandstraw——hemusthavefallendownintheroad。Staggering，hewentintothecowshed，andwithoutundressingherolledintoasledgeandbegantosnoreatonce。Whenfirstthecrossesonthechurchandthenthewindowswereflashinginthelightoftherisingsun，andshadowsstretchedacrosstheyardoverthedewygrassfromthetreesandthetopofthewell，MatveySavitchjumpedupandbeganhurryingabout:
“Kuzka！getup！“heshouted。“It’stimetoputinthehorses！
Looksharp！“
Thebustleofmorningwasbeginning。AyoungJewessinabrowngownwithflouncesledahorseintotheyardtodrink。Thepulleyofthewellcreakedplaintively，thebucketknockedasitwentdown。
Kuzka，sleepy，tired，coveredwithdew，satupinthecart，lazilyputtingonhislittleovercoat，andlisteningtothedripofthewaterfromthebucketintothewellasheshiveredwiththecold。
“Auntie！“shoutedMatveySavitchtoSofya，“tellmyladtohurryupandtoharnessthehorses！“
AndDyudyaatthesameinstantshoutedfromthewindow:
“Sofya，takeafarthingfromtheJewessforthehorse’sdrink！
They’realwaysinhere，themangycreatures！
Inthestreetsheepwererunningupanddown，baaing；thepeasantwomenwereshoutingattheshepherd，whileheplayedhispipes，crackedhiswhip，oransweredtheminathicksleepybass。Threesheepstrayedintotheyard，andnotfindingthegateagain，pushedatthefence。
Varvarawaswakedbythenoise，andbundlingherbeddingupinherarms，shewentintothehouse。
“Youmightatleastdrivethesheepout！“theoldwomanbawledafterher，“mylady！“
“Idaresay！AsifIweregoingtoslaveforyouHerods！“
mutteredVarvara，goingintothehouse。
Dyudyacameoutofthehousewithhisaccountsinhishands，satdownonthestep，andbeganreckoninghowmuchthetravellerowedhimforthenight’slodging，oats，andwateringhishorses。
“Youchargeprettyheavilyfortheoats，mygoodman，“saidMatveySavitch。
“Ifit’stoomuch，don’ttakethem。There’snocompulsion，merchant。“
Whenthetravellerswerereadytostart，theyweredetainedforaminute。Kuzkahadlosthiscap。
“Littleswine，wheredidyouputit？“MatveySavitchroaredangrily。“Whereisit？“
Kuzka’sfacewasworkingwithterror；heranupanddownnearthecart，andnotfindingitthere，rantothegateandthentotheshed。TheoldwomanandSofyahelpedhimlook。
“I’llpullyourearsoff！“yelledMatveySavitch。“Dirtybrat！“
Thecapwasfoundatthebottomofthecart。
Kuzkabrushedthehayoffitwithhissleeve，putiton，andtimidlyhecrawledintothecart，stillwithanexpressionofterroronhisfaceasthoughhewereafraidofablowfrombehind。
MatveySavitchcrossedhimself。Thedrivergaveatugatthereinsandthecartrolledoutoftheyard。
ITwasthreeo’clockinthenight。Thepostman，readytosetoff，inhiscapandhiscoat，witharustyswordinhishand，wasstandingnearthedoor，waitingforthedrivertofinishputtingthemailbagsintothecartwhichhadjustbeenbroughtroundwiththreehorses。Thesleepypostmastersatathistable，whichwaslikeacounter；hewasfillingupaformandsaying:
“Mynephew，thestudent，wantstogotothestationatonce。Solookhere，Ignatyev，lethimgetintothemailcartandtakehimwithyoutothestation:thoughitisagainsttheregulationstotakepeoplewiththemail，what’sonetodo？It’sbetterforhimtodrivewithyoufreethanformetohirehorsesforhim。“
“Ready！“theyheardashoutfromtheyard。
“Well，gothen，andGodbewithyou，“saidthepostmaster。“Whichdriverisgoing？“
“SemyonGlazov。“
“Come，signthereceipt。“
Thepostmansignedthereceiptandwentout。Attheentranceofthepost-officetherewasthedarkoutlineofacartandthreehorses。Thehorseswerestandingstillexceptthatoneofthetracehorseskeptuneasilyshiftingfromonelegtotheotherandtossingitshead，makingthebellclangfromtimetotime。Thecartwiththemailbagslookedlikeapatchofdarkness。Twosilhouettesweremovinglazilybesideit:thestudentwithaportmanteauinhishandandadriver。Thelatterwassmokingashortpipe；thelightofthepipemovedaboutinthedarkness，dyingawayandflaringupagain；foraninstantitlightedupabitofasleeve，thenashaggymoustacheandbigcopper-rednose，thenstern-looking，overhangingeyebrows。Thepostmanpresseddownthemailbagswithhishands，laidhisswordonthemandjumpedintothecart。Thestudentclamberedirresolutelyinafterhim，andaccidentallytouchinghimwithhiselbow，saidtimidlyandpolitely:“Ibegyourpardon。“