to join the midges which were
gliding to and fro over the blaze. Ever and anon night-moths subsided
into the flames with a plop, crackled, and became changed into lumps of
black. For my own part, I constructed a couch on a pile of pine boughs,
and there lay down. And as I listened to the ex-soldier's familiar
story, I recalled persons whom I had on one and another occasion
remembered, and speeches which on one and another occasion had made an
impression upon me.

"But at last," the ex-soldier continued, "I took heart of grace, and
caught her in a barn. Pressing her into a corner, I said: 'Now let it
be yes or no. Of, course it shall be as you wish, but remember that I
am a soldier with a small stock of patience.' Upon that she began to
struggle and exclaim: 'What do you want? What do you want?' until,
bursting into tears like a girl, she said through her sobs: 'Do not
touch me. I am not the sort of woman for you. Besides, I love
another--not our master, but another, a workman, a former lodger of
ours. Before he departed he said to me: "Wait for me until I have found
you a nice home, and returned to fetch you"; and though it is seventeen
years since I heard speech or whisper of him, and maybe he has since
forgotten me, or fallen in love with someone else, or come to grief, or
been murdered, you, who are a map, will understand that I must bide a
little while longer.' True, this offended me (for in what respect was I
any worse than the other man?); yet also I felt sorry for her, and
grieved that I should have wronged her by thinking her frivolous, when
all the time there had been THIS at her heart. I drew back,
therefore--I could not lay a finger upon her, though she was in my
power. And at last I said: 'Good-bye! I am going away.' 'Go,' she
replied. 'Yes, go for the love of Christ!'... Wherefore, on the
following evening I settled accounts with our master, and at dawn of a
Sunday morning packed my wallet, took with me this pipe, and departed.
'Yes, take the pipe, Paul Ivanovitch,' she said before my departure.
'Perhaps it will serve to keep you in remembrance of me--you whom
henceforth I shall regard as a brother, and whom I thank.'... As I
walked away I was very nigh to tears, so keen was the pain in my heart.
Aye, keen it was indeed!"

"You did right," Vasili remarked softly after a pause.

"Things must always so befall. Always must it be a case either of
'Yes?' 'Yes,' and of folk coming together, or of 'No' 'No,' an