e
moved so slowly and stiffly that the warden cried to him:

"Hey, there! Quicker! Have you fallen asleep?"

Suddenly Yanson stopped.

"I don't want to be hanged," said he.

He was taken by the arms and led away, and began to stride obediently,
raising his shoulders. Outside he found himself in the moist, spring
air, and beads of sweat stood under his little nose. Notwithstanding
that it was night, it was thawing very strongly and drops of water were
dripping upon the stones. And waiting while the soldiers, clanking their
sabres and bending their heads, were stepping into the unlighted black
carriage, Yanson lazily moved his finger under his moist nose and
adjusted the badly tied muffler about his neck.

CHAPTER IV WE COME FROM ORYOL

The same council-chamber of the military district court which had
condemned Yanson had also condemned to death a peasant of the Government
of Oryol, of the District of Yeletzk, Mikhail Golubets, nicknamed
Tsiganok, also Tatarin. His latest crime, proven beyond question, had
been the murder of three people and armed robbery. Behind that, his dark
past disappeared in a depth of mystery. There were vague rumors that he
had participated in a series of other murders and robberies, and in
his path there was felt to be a dark trail of blood, fire, and drunken
debauchery. He called himself murderer with utter frankness and
sincerity, and scornfully regarded those who, according to the latest
fashion, styled themselves "expropriators." Of his last crime, since it
was useless for him to deny anything, he spoke freely and in detail,
but in answer to questions about his past, he merely gritted his teeth,
whistled, and said:

"Search for the wind of the fields!"

When he was annoyed in cross-examination, Tsiganok assumed a serious and
dignified air:

"All of us from Oryol are thoroughbreds," he would say gravely and
deliberately. "Oryol and Kroma are the homes of first-class thieves.
Karachev and Livna are the breeding-places of thieves. And Yeletz--is the
parent of all thieves. Now--what else is there to say?"

He was nicknamed Tsiganok (gypsy) because of his appearance and his
thievish manner. He was black-haired, lean, with yellow spots on his
prominent, "Tartar-like" cheek-bones. His glance was swift, brief, but
fearfully direct and searching, and the thing upon which he looked for
a moment seemed to lose something, seemed to deliver up to him a part
of itself, and to become some