iringly to right and then to left, listened to the howling and the
banging, and thought gloomily:

"Well, what moral can be drawn from it? It's a blizzard and that is all
about it...."

At midday they had lunch, then wandered aimlessly about the house; they
went to the windows.

"And Lesnitsky is lying there," thought Lyzhin, watching the whirling
snow, which raced furiously round and round upon the drifts. "Lesnitsky
is lying there, the witnesses are waiting...."

They talked of the weather, saying that the snowstorm usually lasted
two days and nights, rarely longer. At six o'clock they had dinner, then
they played cards, sang, danced; at last they had supper. The day was
over, they went to bed.

In the night, towards morning, it all subsided. When they got up and
looked out of window, the bare willows with their weakly drooping
branches were standing perfectly motionless; it was dull and still, as
though nature now were ashamed of its orgy, of its mad nights, and the
license it had given to its passions. The horses, harnessed tandem, had
been waiting at the front door since five o'clock in the morning. When
it was fully daylight the doctor and the examining magistrate put on
their fur coats and felt boots, and, saying good-by to their host, went
out.

At the steps beside the coachman stood the familiar figure of the
constable, Ilya Loshadin, with an old leather bag across his shoulder
and no cap on his head, covered with snow all over, and his face was
red and wet with perspiration. The footman who had come out to help the
gentlemen and cover their legs looked at him sternly and said:

"What are you standing here for, you old devil? Get away!"

"Your honor, the people are anxious," said Loshadin, smiling naively all
over his face, and evidently pleased at seeing at last the people he
had waited for so long. "The people are very uneasy, the children are
crying.... They thought, your honor, that you had gone back to the
town again. Show us the heavenly mercy, our benefactors!..."

The doctor and the examining magistrate said nothing, got into the
sledge, and drove to Syrnya.

THE FIRST-CLASS PASSENGER

A FIRST-CLASS passenger who had just dined at the station and drunk a
little too much lay down on the velvet-covered seat, stretched himself
out luxuriously, and sank into a doze. After a nap of no more than five
minutes, he looked with oily eyes at his _vis-a-vis,_ gave a smirk, and
said:

"My fathe