his white drawers. There was, I repeat,
not a sound. Our cottage looked so peaceful--smoke coming
from the chimney. No sign of the shambles, no sign except
the four dead men, all so grave and quiet. The blue in the
sky grew deeper. Then the sun rose, a jolly gold ball with
red clouds swinging in streamers away from it.

The birds sang above my head so loudly that the boy who was
mowing looked up at them. The soldier finished his washing,
put on his shirt. He was a Mahommedan, I perceived, because
he prayed, very solemnly, his face to the sun, bowing to the
ground. The grass fell before the flashing scythe, the sun
flamed behind the trees, and I was happy as I had never
known happiness in my life before.

I had done only what all the soldiers are doing every day of
their lives. I had been only where they always were.... But
I felt that I need never be afraid again. Every one knows
how an early summer morning can give one confidence; in my
happiness, God forgive me, I thought that my struggles were
at an end, that I had met my enemy and defeated him ... that
I was worthy and able to defend Marie.

These things may seem foolish now when one knows what
followed them, but the happiness of that morning at least
was real. Perhaps all over Europe there were men, at that
moment, happy as I was, because they had proved something to
themselves. Then Nikitin called to me, laughing.

"Tea, 'Mr.' and _bulki_ (white bread) and sausage?"

"All right, I'm coming," I answered. "Listen, _golubchik_,"
I called to the soldier. "Bring me some water in your
kettle. I'll wash my hands."

He came, smiling, towards me.

I have given the incidents of this night in great detail for
my own satisfaction, because I wish to forget nothing. To
others the little adventure must seem trivial, but to myself
it represented the climax of a chain of events.

PART TWO

CHAPTER I

THE LOVERS

Semyonov and Marie Ivanovna did not offer us a picture of idealised
love--they did not offer us a picture of anything, and although they
were, both of them, most certainly changed, they could not be said in
any way to do what the Otriad expected of them. The Otriad quite
frankly expected them to be ashamed of themselves. To expect that of
Semyonov at any time showed a lamentable lack of