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！“