fancied——soughttoslipoutafterit，and，floatinginthatdirection，fannedmyfacewithabreathasofice，whiletheflameofthecandleflickeredthemore——asthoughittoowereseekingtowrestitselffromthecandlestick，andgofloatingupwardstojointhebandofstars——abandofluminarieswhichitmightwellhavedeemedtobeofabrillianceassmallandaspitifulasitsown。AndI，formypart，sinceIhadnowishtoseewhatlighttherewasdisappear，followedthestrugglesofthetinyflamewithatenseanxietywhichmademyeyesache。
　　OppressedanduneasyalloverasIstoodbythedeadman’sshoulder，Istrainedmyearsandlistened，listenedever，tothesilenceencompassingthehut。
　　Eventually，drowsinessbegantostealoverme，andprovedafeelinghardtoresist。YetstillwithaneffortdidIcontrivetorecallthebeautifulprayersofSaintsMakariVeliki，Chrysostom，andDamarkin，whileatthesametimesomethingresemblingaswarmofmosquitosstartedtohuminmyhead，thewordswhereintheSixthPreceptissuesitsinjunctionto:“allpersonsabouttowithdrawtoacouchofrest。“
　　Andnext，toescapefallingasleep，Ifelltorecitingthekondak[Hymnfortheendoftheday]whichbegins:
　　“OhLord，refreshmysoulthusgrievouslymadefeeblewithwrongdoing。“
　　Stillengagedinthismanner，suddenlyIheardsomethingrustleoutsidethedoor。Thenadrywhisperarticulated:
　　“OhGodofMercy，receiveuntoThyselfalsomysoul！“
　　Uponthat，thefancyoccurredtomethatprobablytheoldwoman’ssoulwasasgreyandtimidasalinnet，andthatwhenitshouldflyuptothethroneoftheMotherofGod，andtheMothershouldextendtothatlittlesoulhertender，white，andgracioushand，thenewcomerwouldtrembleallover，andflutterhergentlewingsuntilwellnighdeathshouldsupervene。
　　AndthentheMotherofGodwouldsaytoHerSon:
　　“Son，prayseethefearfulnessofThypeopleonearth，andtheirestrangementfromjoy！OhSon，isthatwell？“
　　AndHewouldmakeanswertoHer——
　　HewouldmakeanswertoHer，andsayIknownotwhat。
　　Andsuddenly，soIfancied，avoiceansweredmineoutofthebroodinghush，asthoughittoowererecitingaprayer。Yetsocomplete，soprofound，wasthestillness，thatthevoiceseemedfaraway，submerged，unreal——amerephantomofanecho，oftheechoofmyownvoice。Until，onmydesistingfrommyrecital，andstrainingmycarsyetmore，thesoundseemedtoapproachandgrowclearerasshufflingfootstepsalsoadvancedinmydirection，andtherecameamutterof:
　　“Nay，itCANNOTbeso！“
　　“Whyisitthatthedogshavefailedtobark？“Ireflected，rubbingmyeyes，andfancyingasIdidsothatthedeadman’seyebrowstwitched，andhismoustachestirredinagrimsmile。
　　Presentlyadeep，hoarse，raspingvoicevociferatedintheforecourt:
　　“Whatdoyousay，oldwoman？Yes，thathemustdie——Iknewallalong，——soyoucanceaseyourchattering？Menlikehimkeepuptothelast，thenlaythemdowntorisetomore……WHOiswithhim？A
　　stranger？A-ah！“
　　And，thenextmoment，abulksolargeandshapelessthatitmightwellhavebeenthedarknessofthenightembodied，stumbledagainsttheoutersideofthedoor，grunted，hiccuped，andlurchingheadforemostintothehut，grewwellnightotheceiling。Thenitwavedagigantichand，crosseditselfinthedirectionofthecandle，and，bendingforwarduntilitsforeheadalmosttouchedthefeetofthecorpse，queriedunderitsbreath:
　　“Hownow，Vasil？“
　　Thereafter，thefigureventedasobwhilstastrongsmellofvodkaaroseintheroom，andfromthedoorwaytheoldwomansaidinanappealingvoice:
　　“PraygiveHIMthebook，FatherDemid。“
　　“Noindeed！WhyshouldI？Iintendtodothereadingmyself。“
　　Andaheavyhandlaiditselfuponmyshoulder，whileagreathairyfacebentovermine，andinquired:
　　“Ayoungman，areyounot？Amemberoftheclergy，too，I
　　suppose？“
　　Socoveredwithtuftsofauburnhairwastheenormousheadaboveme——tuftsthesheenofwhicheventhesemi-obscurityofthepalecandlelightfailedtorenderinconspicuous——thatthemass，asawhole，resembledamop。Andasitsownerlurchedtoandfro，hemademelurchresponsivelybynowdrawingmetowardshimself，nowthrustingmeaway。Meanwhilehecontinuedtosuffusemyfacewiththehot，thickodourofspirituousliquor。
　　“FatherDemid！“againessayedtheoldwomanwithanimploringwail，buthecuthershortwiththemenacingadmonition:
　　“HowoftenhaveItoldyouthatyoumustnotaddressadeaconas’Father’？Gotobed！Yes，beoffwithyou，andletmemindmyaffairsmyself！GO，Isay！Butfirstlightmeanothercandle，forIcannotseeasinglethinginfrontofme。“
　　Withwhich，throwinghimselfuponabench，thedeaconslappedhiskneewithabookwhichhehadinhishands，andputtomethequery:
　　“Shouldyoucaretohaveadramofgorielka？[Anothernameforvodka。]
　　“No，“Ireplied。“Atallevents，nothere。“
　　“Indeed？“thedeaconcried，unabashed。“Butcome，abottleofthestuffishere，inmyverypocket。“
　　“Thisisnoplaceinwhichtobedrinking。“
　　Foramomentthedeaconsaidnothing。Thenhemuttered:
　　“True，true。Soletusadjourntotheforecourt……Yes，whatyousayisnomorethanthetruth。“
　　“Hadyounotbetterremainseatedwhereyouare，andbeginthereading？“
　　“No，Iamgoingtodonosuchthing。YOUshalldothereading。
　　TonightI，I——wellIamnotverywell，forIhavebeendrinkingalittle。“
　　And，thrustingthebookintomystomach，hesankhisheaduponhisbreast，andfelltoswayingitponderouslyupanddown。
　　“Folkdie，“washisnextutterance，“andtheworldremainsasfullofgriefasever。Yes，folkdieevenbeforetheyhaveseenalittlegoodaccruetothemselves。“
　　“IseethatyourbookisnotaPsalter，“hereIinterposedafteraninspectionofthevolume。
　　“Youarewrong。“
　　“Thenlookforyourself。“
　　Hegrabbedthebookbyitscover，and，bydintofholdingthecandleclosetoitspages，discovered，eventually，thatmatterswereasIhadstated。
　　Thistookhimabackcompletely。
　　“Whatcanthefactmean？“heexclaimed。“Oh，Iknowwhathashappened。Themistakehascomeofmybeinginsuchahurry。Theotherbook，thetruePsalter，isafat，heavyvolume，whereasthisoneis——“
　　Foramomentheseemedsoberedbytheshock。Atallevents，heroseand，approachingthecorpse，said，ashebentoverthebedwithhisbeardheldback:
　　“Pardonme，Vasil，butwhatistobedone？“
　　Thenhestraightenedhimselfagain，threwbackhiscurls，and，drawingabottlefromhispocket，andthrustingtheneckofthebottleintohismouth，tookalongdraught，withawhistlingofhisnostrilsashedidso。
　　“Well？“Isaid。
　　“Well，Iintendtogotobed——myideaistodrinkandenjoymyselfawhile。“
　　“Go，then。“
　　“Andwhatofthereading？“
　　“Whowouldwishyoutomumblewordswhichyouwouldnotbecomprehendingasyouutteredthem？“
　　Thedeaconreseatedhimselfuponthebench，leanedforward，buriedhisfaceinhishandsandremainedsilent。
　　FasttheJulynightwaswaning。Fastitsshadowsweredissolvingintocorners，andallowingawhiffoffreshdewymorningtidetoenteratthewindow。Alreadywasthecombinedlightofthetwocandlesgrowingpaler，withtheirflameslookingliketheeyesofafrightenedchild。
　　“Youhavelivedyourlife，Vasi，“atlengththedeaconmuttered，“andthoughonceIhadaplacetowhichtoresort，nowIshallhavenone。Yes，mylastfriendisdead。OhLord——whereisThyjustice？“
　　Formyself，Iwentandtookaseatbythewindow，and，thrustingmyheadintotheopenair，litapipe，andcontinuedtolistenwithashivertothedeacon’swailings。
　　“Folkusedtogirdatmywife，“hewenton，“andnowtheyaregnawingatmeaspigsmightgnawatacabbage。Thatisso，Vasil。
　　Yesthatisso。“
　　Againthebottlemadeitsappearance。Againthedeacontookadraught。Againhewipedhisbeard。Thenhebentoverthedeadmanoncemore，andkissedthecorpse’sforehead。
　　“Good-bye，friendofmine！“hesaid。Thentomyselfheaddedwithunlooked-forclarityandvigour:
　　“Myfriendherewasbutaplainman——amanasinconspicuousamonghisfellowsasarookamongaflockofrooks。Yetnorookwashe。