and
stopped, breathing hard. She was breathless, probably not so much from
walking as from fear and the unpleasant sensation everyone experiences
in wading across a river at night. Seeing near the shanty not one but
two persons, she uttered a faint cry and fell back a step.

"Ah... that is you!" said Savka, stuffing a scone into his mouth.

"Ye-es... I," she mutte red, dropping on the ground a bundle of some
sort and looking sideways at me. "Yakov sent his greetings to you and
told me to give you... something here...."

"Come, why tell stories? Yakov!" laughed Savka. "There is no need for
lying; the gentleman knows why you have come! Sit down; you shall have
supper with us."

Agafya looked sideways at me and sat down irresolutely.

"I thought you weren't coming this evening," Savka said, after a
prolonged silence. "Why sit like that? Eat! Or shall I give you a drop
of vodka?"

"What an idea!" laughed Agafya; "do you think you have got hold of a
drunkard?..."

"Oh, drink it up.... Your heart will feel warmer.... There!"

Savka gave Agafya the crooked glass. She slowly drank the vodka, ate
nothing with it, but drew a deep breath when she had finished.

"You've brought something," said Savka, untying the bundle and throwing
a condescending, jesting shade into his voice. "Women can never come
without bringing something. Ah, pie and potatoes.... They live well,"
he sighed, turning to me. "They are the only ones in the whole village
who have got potatoes left from the winter!"

In the darkness I did not see Agafya's face, but from the movement of
her shoulders and head it seemed to me that she could not take her
eyes off Savka's face. To avoid being the third person at this tryst, I
decided to go for a walk and got up. But at that moment a nightingale in
the wood suddenly uttered two low contralto notes. Half a minute later
it gave a tiny high trill and then, having thus tried its voice, began
singing. Savka jumped up and listened.

"It's the same one as yesterday," he said. "Wait a minute."

And, getting up, he went noiselessly to the wood.

"Why, what do you want with it?" I shouted out after him, "Stop!"

Savka shook his hand as much as to say, "Don't shout," and vanished into
the darkness. Savka was an excellent sportsman and fisherman when he
liked, but his talents in this direction were as completely thrown away
as his strength. He was too slothful to do things in the routine way,
and vented his passio