“Youhavebeenoh，sogood！“shewhisperssoftly。Asshespeaks，theearthseemstobesinkingundermyfeet。
Thenshetearsherselfaway，glancesaroundthecourtyard，anddartstoacornerwhere，underafence，aclumpofherbageissprouting。
“Gonow，“sheaddsinawhisper。“Yes，go。“
Then，withaconfusedsmile，as，crouchingamongtheherbageasthoughithadbeenasmallcave，sherearrangesherhair，sheadds:
“Ithasbefallenso。Ah，me！MayGodgrantuntomeHispardon！“
Astonished，feelingthatImustbedreaming，Igazeatherwithgratitude，forIsenseanextraordinarylightnesstobepresentinmybreast，aradiantvoidthroughwhichjoyous，intangiblewordsandthoughtskeepflyingasswallowswheelacrossthefirmament。
“Amidagreatsorrow，“sheadds，“evenasmalljoybecomesagreatfelicity。“
YetasIglanceatthewoman’sbosom，whereonmoistbeadsarestandinglikedewdropsontheouterearth；asIglanceatthatbosom，whereonthesun’sraysarefindingaroseatereflection，asthoughthebloodwereoozingthroughtheskin，myrapturediesaway，andturnstosorrow，heartache，andtears。Forinmethereisapresentimentthatbeforethelivingjuicewithinthatbosomshallhavebornefruit，itwillhavebecomedriedup。
Presently，inatonealmostofself-excuse，andonewhereinthewordssoundalittlesadly，shecontinues:
“Timestherearewhensomethingcomespouringintomysoulwhichmakesmybreastsachewiththepainofit。Whatisthereformetodoatsuchmomentssaverevealmythoughtstothemoon，or，inthedaytime，toariver？OhGodinHeaven！AndafterwardsIfeelasashamedofmyself！……Donotlookatmelikethat。Whystareatmewiththoseeyes，eyessoliketheeyesofachild？“
“YOURface，rather，islikeachild’s，“Iremark。
“What？Isitsostupid？“
“Somethinglikethat。“
Asshefastensupherbodiceshecontinues:
“Soonthetimewillbefiveo’clock，whenthebellwillringforMass。ToMassImustgotoday，forIhaveaprayertooffertotheMotherofGod……Shallyoubeleavingheresoon？“
“Yes——assoon，thatistosay，asIhavereceivedbackmypassport。“
“Andforwhatdestination？“
“ForAlatyr。Andyou？“
Shestraightensherattire，andrises。AsshedoessoIperceivethatherhipsarenarrowerthanhershoulders，andthatthroughoutsheiswell-proportionedandsymmetrical。
“I？AsyetIdonotknow。True，IhadthoughtofproceedingtoNaltchik，butnow，perhaps，Ishallnotdoso，forallmyfutureisuncertain。“
Uponthatsheextendstomeapairofstrong，capablearms，andproposeswithablush:
“Shallwekissoncemorebeforewepart？“
Sheclaspsmewiththeonearm，andwiththeothermakesthesignofthecross，adding:
“Good-bye，dearfriend，andmayChristrequiteyouforallyourwords，forallyoursympathy！“
“Thenshallwetraveltogether？“
Atthewordsshefreesherself，andsaysfirmly，nay，sternly:
“Notso。NeverwouldIconsenttosuchaplan。Ofcourse，hadyoubeenamuzhik——butno。Eventhenwhatwouldhavebeentheuseofit，seeingthatlifeistobemeasured，notbyasinglehour，butbyyears？“
And，quietlysmilingmeafarewell，shemovesawaytowardsthehut，whilstI，remainingseated，losemyselfinthoughtsofher。
Willsheeverovertakeherquestinlife？ShallIeverbeholdheragain？
ThebellforearlyMassbegins，thoughforsometimepastthehamlethasbeenastir，andhumminginasedateandnon-festivefashion。
Ienterthehuttofetchmywallet，andfindtheplaceempty。
Evidentlythewholepartyhasleftbythegapinthebroken-downwall。
Irepair，next，totheAtaman’soffice，whereIreceivebackmypassportbeforesettingouttolookformycompanionsinthesquare。
Insimilarfashiontoyesterdaythose“folkfromRussia“arelollingalongsidethechurchyardwall，andalsohaveseatedamongthem，leaninghisbackagainstalog，thefat-jowledyouthfromPenza，withhisbruisedfacelookingevenlargeranduglierthanbefore，forthereasonthathiseyesaresunkenamidpurpleprotuberances。
Presentlytherearrivesanewcomerintheshapeofanoldmanwithagreyheadadornedwithafadedvelvetskull-cap，apointedbeard，alean，witheredframe，prominentcheekbones，ared，porous-looking，cunninglyhookednose，andtheeyesofathief。
Himaflaxen-hairedyouthfromOreljoinswithasimilaryouthinaccosting。
“WhyareYOUtramping？“inquirestheformer。
“AndwhyareYOU？“theoldmanretortsinnasaltonesas，lookingatnoone，heproceedstomendthehandleofabatteredmetalteapotwithapieceofwire。
“Wearetravellinginsearchofwork，andthereforelivingaswehavebeencommandedtolive。“
“ByWHOMcommanded？“
“ByGod。Haveyouforgotten？“
Carelessly，butsuccinctly，theoldmanretorts:
“Takeheedlestuponyou，someday，GodvomitallthedustandlitterwhichyouareraisingbytrampingHisearth！“
“How？“criesoneoftheyouths，along-earedstripling。
“WerenotChristandHisApostlesalsotramps？“
“Yes，CHRIST，“istheoldman’smeaningreplyasheraiseshissharpeyestothoseofhisopponent。“Butwhatareyoutalkingof，youfools？Withwhomareyoudaringtocompareyourselves？
TakecarelestIreportyoutotheCossacks！“
Ihavelistenedtomanysucharguments，andalwaysfoundthemdistasteful，evenasIhavedonediscussionsregardingthesoul。
HenceIfeelinclinedtodepart。
Atthismoment，however，Konevmakeshisappearance。Hismienisdejected，andhisbodyperspiring，whilehiseyeskeepblinkingrapidly。
“HasanyoneseenTanka——thatwomanfromRiazan？“heinquires。
“No？Thenthebitchmusthaveboltedduringthenight。Thefactisthat，overnight，someonegavemeadroportwotodrink，ameredram，butenoughtolaymeasfastasleepasabearinwinter-
time。Andinthemeantime，shemusthaverunawaywiththatPenzafellow。“
“No，HEishere，“Iremark。
“Oh，heis，ishe？Well，aswhathasthecompanyregistereditself？Asasetofikon-painters，Ishouldthink！“
Againhebeginstolookanxiouslyabouthim。
“Wherecanshehavegotto？“hequeries。
“ToMass，maybe。“
“0Fcourse！Well，Iamgreatlysmittenwithher。Yes，mywordI
am！“
Nevertheless，whenMasscomestoanend，and，tothesoundofamerrypealofbells，thewell-dressedlocalCossacksfileoutofchurch，anddistributethemselvesingaudystreamsaboutthehamlet，noTatianamakesherappearance。
“ThensheISgone，“saysKonevruefully。“ButI’llfindheryet！I’LLcomeupwithher！“
ThatthiswillhappenIdonotfeelconfident。NordoIdesirethatitshould。