advantage
of the last ray of the gray day, unfolded the will.

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!" she read.
Yes, that is it, the will.

"How he pronounced those same words, when he was blessing little
Olga," she remembered. "Blessing her! And his hand did not tremble,
when he signed this. To deprive her, to deprive them both, of
everything, all on account of those hated people? But now--it should
never be! On no account! Your down-at-the-heel pedagogue shall not
strut about in peacock's feathers! Olga and I ... require the money
more!"

And the general's wife was tempted to snap her fingers in triumph in
the direction of the dead man.

Suddenly, quite close to the door, the sound of steps was heard. Good
heavens! And she held the big sheet of crested paper in her hand!
Where could she put it? She had no time to think of folding it up.
There! they are coming in already! Who can it be?

And the will lay on the floor, the general's wife kneeling on it, as
on a prayer carpet, in an attitude of prayer, her clasped hands on the
window sill, her wet eyes fixed on a faintly twinkling star, as though
calling heaven to witness her inconsolable grief and bereavement.

It was only the Sister of Mercy.

"Madam, the people have come, bringing the coffin; and I think the
police have also come."

"Yes, in a moment. Tell them I am coming immediately."

The Sister of Mercy went out.

"See how she loved her husband. And why was he so unjust to her at the
last?" she involuntarily reproached the dead general.

Meanwhile the general's wife had risen hastily, folded the will as
best she could, in four, in eight folds, and crushing it together in
her hand, went quietly from the room, which now filled her with dread.

She was so confused that she did not even think of looking for her
pocket; she simply held her packet tight, and let her hand hang down,
hiding it in the folds of her wide dressing-gown. There seemed to be
so many people in the room which a moment before was empty, that she
felt cowed. Her heart beat pitilessly, and the blood throbbed so
violently in her temples that she could not understand what was said
to her. They were asking her if they might place the body in the
coffin, which had already been placed beside it. Her silence was taken
as consent. The skilful undertakers easily lifted the already rigid
body.

Olga Vseslavovna stood at the head of the dead general. Among the
crowd of und