house, and sat on the curbstone, and even the snow in the street was
thronged with the same kind of people. On the right side of the entrance
door were the women, on the left the men. I walked past the women, past
the men (there were several hundred of them in all) and halted where the
line came to an end. The house before which these people were waiting
was the Lyapinsky free lodging-house for the night. The throng of people
consisted of night lodgers, who were waiting to be let in. At five
o'clock in the afternoon, the house is opened, and the people permitted
to enter. Hither had come nearly all the people whom I had passed on my
way.

I halted where the line of men ended. Those nearest me began to stare at
me, and attracted my attention to them by their glances. The fragments
of garments which covered these bodies were of the most varied sorts. But
the expression of all the glances directed towards me by these people was
identical. In all eyes the question was expressed: "Why have you, a man
from another world, halted here beside us? Who are you? Are you a self-
satisfied rich man who wants to enjoy our wretchedness, to get rid of his
tedium, and to torment us still more? or are you that thing which does
not and can not exist,--a man who pities us?" This query was on every
face. You glance about, encounter some one's eye, and turn away. I
wished to talk with some one of them, but for a long time I could not
make up my mind to it. But our glances had drawn us together already
while our tongues remained silent. Greatly as our lives had separated
us, after the interchange of two or three glances we felt that we were
both men, and we ceased to fear each other. The nearest of all to me was
a peasant with a swollen face and a red beard, in a tattered caftan, and
patched overshoes on his bare feet. And the weather was eight degrees
below zero. {24a} For the third or fourth time I encountered his eyes,
and I felt so near to him that I was no longer ashamed to accost him, but
ashamed not to say something to him. I inquired where he came from? he
answered readily, and we began to talk; others approached. He was from
Smolensk, and had come to seek employment that he might earn his bread
and taxes. "There is no work," said he: "the soldiers have taken it all
away. So now I am loafing about; as true as I believe in God, I have had
nothing to eat for two days." He spoke modestly, with an effort at a
smile.