he rumble of wheels, the slamming of doors. The sounds of the
bells, the whistles, the guards, the running to and fro of passengers
on the platforms, seemed more frequent than usual. The time flew
by rapidly, imperceptibly, and so it seemed as though the train
were stopping at stations every minute, and metallic voices crying
continually:

"Is the mail ready?"

"Yes!" was repeatedly coming from outside.

It seemed as though the man in charge of the heating came in too
often to look at the thermometer, that the noise of trains going
in the opposite direction and the rumble of the wheels over the
bridges was incessant. The noise, the whistles, the Finn, the tobacco
smoke--all this mingling with the menace and flickering of the
misty images in his brain, the shape and character of which a man
in health can never recall, weighed upon Klimov like an unbearable
nightmare. In horrible misery he lifted his heavy head, looked at
the lamp in the rays of which shadows and misty blurs seemed to be
dancing. He wanted to ask for water, but his parched tongue would
hardly move, and he scarcely had strength to answer the Finn's
questions. He tried to lie down more comfortably and go to sleep,
but he could not succeed. The Finn several times fell asleep, woke
up again, lighted his pipe, addressed him with his "Ha!" and went
to sleep again; and still the lieutenant's legs could not get into
a comfortable position, and still the menacing images stood facing
him.

At Spirovo he went out into the station for a drink of water. He
saw people sitting at the table and hurriedly eating.

"And how can they eat!" he thought, trying not to sniff the air,
that smelt of roast meat, and not to look at the munching mouths
--they both seemed to him sickeningly disgusting.

A good-looking lady was conversing loudly with a military man in a
red cap, and showing magnificent white teeth as she smiled; and the
smile, and the teeth, and the lady herself made on Klimov the same
revolting impression as the ham and the rissoles. He could not
understand how it was the military man in the red cap was not ill
at ease, sitting beside her and looking at her healthy, smiling
face.

When after drinking some water he went back to his carriage, the
Finn was sitting smoking; his pipe was wheezing and squelching like
a golosh with holes in it in wet weather.

"Ha!" he said, surprised; "what station is this?"

"I don't know," answered Klimov, lying down and shu