TheCossackglancesather——thensmiles。
“Andwhereisthepartygoingtosleep？“heinquiresofthecrowd。
“Here，“someoneventures。
“Thenyoumustnot——someonemightbreakintothechurch。Go，rather，totheAtaman[Cossackheadmanormayor]，andyouwillbebilletedamongthehuts。“
“Itisamatterofnoconsequence，“Konevremarksashepacesbesideme。“Yet——“
“Theyseemtobetakingusforrobbers，“ismyinterruption。
“Asiseverywheretheway，“hecomments。“Itisbutonethingmorelaidtoourcharge。Cautiondecidesalwaysthatastrangerisathief。“
InfrontofuswalksthewomanfromRiazan，incompanywiththeyoungfellowofthebloatedfeatures。Heisdowncastofmien，andatlengthmutterssomethingwhichIcannotcatch，butinanswertowhichshetossesherhead，andsaysinadistinct，maternaltone:
“Youaretooyoungtoassociatewithsuchbrutes。“
Thebellofthechurchisslowlybeating，andfromthehutstherekeepcomingneatoldmenandwomenwhomakethehithertodesertedstreetassumeabriskappearance，andthesquathutstakeonawelcomingair。
Inaresonant，girlishvoicetheremeetsourears:
“Ma-am！Ma-amka！Whereisthekeyofthegreenbox？Iwantmyribands！“
Whileinanswertothebell’ssummons，theoxenlowadeepecho。
Thewindhasfallen，butreddishcloudsstillareglidingoverthehamlet，andthemountainpeaksblushinguntiltheyseem，thawing，tobesendingstreamsofgolden，liquidfireontothesteppes，where，asthoughcastinstone，astork，standingononeleg，islistening，seemingly，totherustlingoftheheat-
exhaustedherbage。
IntheforecourtoftheAtaman’shutwearedeprivedofourpassports，whiletwoofournumber，foundtobewithoutsuchdocuments，areledawaytoanight’slodginginadarkstorehouseinacornerofthepremises。Everythingisexecutedquietlyenough，andwithouttheleastfuss，purelyasamatterofroutine；yetKonevmutters，asdejectedlyhecontemplatesthedarkeningsky:
“Whatasurprisingthing，tobesure！“
“Whatis？“
“Apassport。Surelyadecent，peaceablemanoughttobeabletotravelWITHOUTapassport？Solongashebeharmless，lethim——“
“Youarenotharmless，“withangryemphasisthewomanfromRiazaninterposes。
Konevcloseshiseyeswithasmile，andsaysnothingmore。
Almostuntilthevigilserviceisoverarewekeptkickingourheelsaboutthatforecourt，likesheepinaslaughter-house。ThenKonev，myself，thetwowomen，andthefat-facedyoungfellowareledawaytowardstheoutskirtsofthevillage，andallottedanemptyhutwithbroken-downwallsandacrackedwindow。
“Nogoingoutwillbepermitted，“saystheCossackwhohasconductedusthither。“Elseyouwillbearrested。“
“Thengiveusamorselofbread，“Konevsayswithastammer。
“Haveyoudoneanyworkhere？“theCossackinquires。
“Yes——alittle。“
“Forme？“
“No。Itdidnotsohappen。“
“WhenitdoessohappenIwillgiveyousomebread。“
Andlikeawater-buttthefatkindly-lookingmangoesrollingoutoftheyard。
“Whatelsewastobeexpected？“grumblesKonevwithhiseyebrowselevatedtothemiddleofhisforehead。“Thefolkhereaboutsareknaves。Ah，well！“
Asforthewomen，theywithdrawtothedarkestcornerofthehut，andliedown，whiletheyoungfellowdisappearsafterprobingthewallsandfloor，andreturnswithanarmfulofstrawwhichhestrewsuponthehard，beatenclay。Thenhestretcheshimselfthereonwithhandsclaspedbehindhisbatteredhead。
“SeetheresourcefulnessofthatfellowfromPenza！“commentsKonevenviously。“Hi，youwomen！Thereis，itwouldseem，somestrawabout。“
Tothiscomesfromthewomen’scornertheacidreply:
“Thengoandfetchsome。“
“Foryou？“
“Yes，forus。“
“ThenImust，Isuppose。“
NeverthelessKonevmerelyremainssittingonthewindowsill，anddiscoursingonthesubjectofcertainneedyfolkwhodobutdesiretogoandsaytheirprayersinchurch，yetarebandedintobarns。
“Yes，andthoughyoumaysaythatfolk，theworldover，haveasoulincommon，Itellyouthatthisisnotso——that，onthecontrary，weRussianstrangersfinditahardmatterheretogetlookeduponasrespectable。“
Withwhichheslipsoutquietlyintothestreet，anddisappearsfromview。
Theyoungfellow’ssleepisrestless——hekeepstossingabout，withhisfatarmsandlegssprawlingoverthefloor，andgrunting，andsnoring。Underhimthestrawmakesacracklingsound，whilethetwowomenwhispertogetherinthedarkness，andthereedsofthedrythatchontheroofrustlethewindisstilldrawinganoccasionalbreath，andeverandanonatwigbrushesagainstanoutsidewall。Thesceneislikeasceneinadream。
Outofdoorsthemyriadtonguesofthepitch-black，starlessnightseemtobedebatingsomethinginsoft，sad，pitifultoneswhicheverkeepgrowingfainter；until，whenthehouroftenhasbeenstruckonthewatchman’sgong，andthemetalceasestovibrate，theworldgrowsquieterstill，muchasthoughalllivingthings，alarmedbytheclanginthenight，haveconcealedthemselvesintheinvisibleearthortheequallyinvisibleheavens。
Iseatmyselfbythewindow，andwatchhowtheearthkeepsexhalingdarkness，andthedarknessenveloping，drowningthegrey，blurredhutsinblack，tepidvapour，thoughthechurchremainsinvisible——evidentlysomethingstandsinterposedbetweenitandmyviewpoint。Anditseemstomethatthewind，theseraphofmanypinionswhichhasspentthreedaysinharryingtheland，mustnowhavewhirledtheearthintoablackness，adenseness，inwhich，exhausted，andpanting，andscarcelymoving，itishelplesslystrivingtoremainwithintheencompassing，all-
pervadingobscuritywhere，helplessandwearyinlikedegree，thewindhasslougheditsthousandsofwing-feathers——featherswhiteandblueandgoldenoftint，butalsobroken，andsmearedwithdustandblood。
AndasIthinkofourpetty，grievoushumanlife，asofadrunkard’stuneonasorrymusicalinstrument，orasofabeautifulsongspoiltbyawitless，voicelesssinger，therebeginstowailinmysoulaninsatiablelongingtobreatheforthwordsofsympathywithallmankind，wordsofburningloveforalltheworld，wordsofappreciationof，forexample，thesun’sbeautyas，enfoldingtheearthinhisbeams，andcaressingandfertilisingher，hebearsherthroughtheexpansesofblue。Yes，Iyearntorecitetomyfellow-menwordswhichshallraisetheirheads。AndatlengthIfindmyselfcompoundingthefollowingjejunelines:
ToourlandweallarebornInhappinesstodwell。
ThesunhasbredustothislandItsfairnesstoexcel。
InthetempleofthesunWehighpriestsare，divine。
Theneachofusshouldclaimhislife，Andcry，“Thislifeismine！“
Meanwhilefromthewomen’scornertherecomesasoft，intermittentwhispering；andasitcontinuestofilterthroughthedarkness，IstrainmyearsuntilIsucceedincatchingafewofthewordsuttered，andcandistinguishatleastthevoicesofthewhisperers。
ThewomanfromRiazanmuttersfirmly，andwithassurance:
“Neveroughtyoutoshowthatithurtsyou。“
Andwithasniff，inatoneofdubiousacquiescence，hercompanionreplies:
“Ye-es-solongasonecanbearit。“
“Ah，butnevermind。PRETEND。Thatistosay，whenhebeatsyou，makelightofit，andtreatitasajoke。“
“Butwhatifhebeatsmeverymuchindeed？“
“Continuestilltomakelightofit，stilltosmileathimkindly。“
“Well，YOUcanneverhavebeenbeaten，foryoudonotseemtoknowwhatitislike。“
“Oh，butIhave，mydear——Idoknowwhatitislike，formyexperienceofithasbeenlarge。Donotbeafraid，however。HE
won’tbeatyou。“
Adogyelps，pausesamomenttolisten，andthenbarksmoreangrilythanever。Uponthatotherdogsreply，andforamomentortwoIamannoyedtofindthatIcannotoverhearthewomen’sconversation。Intime，however，thedogsceasetheiruproar，forwantofbreath，andthesuppresseddialoguefiltersoncemoretomyears。
“Neverforget，mydear，thatamuzhik’slifeisahardone。Yes，forusplainfolklifeishard。Hence，oneoughttomakenothingofthings，andletthemcomeeasytoone。“
“MotherofGod！“