that they say he ran three miles without his
hand, and they found him on a mound close to Kurikovo. He was
squatting on his heels, with his head on his knees, as though he
were lost in thought, but when they looked at him there was no life
in him and he was dead. . . ."

"They found him by the track of blood," said Panteley.

Everyone looked at the cross, and again there was a hush. From
somewhere, most likely from the creek, floated the mournful cry of
the bird: "Sleep! sleep! sleep!"

"There are a great many wicked people in the world," said Emelyan.

"A great many," assented Panteley, and he moved up closer to the
fire as though he were frightened. "A great many," he went on in a
low voice. "I've seen lots and lots of them. . . . Wicked people!
. . . I have seen a great many holy and just, too. . . . Queen of
Heaven, save us and have mercy on us. I remember once thirty years
ago, or maybe more, I was driving a merchant from Morshansk. The
merchant was a jolly handsome fellow, with money, too . . . the
merchant was . . . a nice man, no harm in him. . . . So we put up
for the night at an inn. And in Russia the inns are not what they
are in these parts. There the yards are roofed in and look like the
ground floor, or let us say like barns in good farms. Only a barn
would be a bit higher. So we put up there and were all right. My
merchant was in a room, while I was with the horses, and everything
was as it should be. So, lads, I said my prayers before going to
sleep and began walking about the yard. And it was a dark night, I
couldn't see anything; it was no good trying. So I walked about a
bit up to the waggons, or nearly, when I saw a light gleaming. What
could it mean? I thought the people of the inn had gone to bed long
ago, and besides the merchant and me there were no other guests in
the inn. . . . Where could the light have come from? I felt suspicious.
. . . I went closer . . . towards the light. . . . The Lord have
mercy upon me! and save me, Queen of Heaven! I looked and there was
a little window with a grating, . . . close to the ground, in the
house. . . I lay down on the ground and looked in; as soon as I
looked in a cold chill ran all down me. . . ."

Kiruha, trying not to make a noise, thrust a handful of twigs into
the fire. After waiting for it to leave off crackling and hissing,
the old man went on:

"I looked in and there was a big cellar, black and dark. . . . There
was a lighted lantern on a