inquired, gazing about: "we must cleanse ourselves."

In one corner he began to pray, crossing himself humbly, so that he
touched first one shoulder, then another. "Have mercy, Lord! on my,
on my--" My father, who had watched closely without speaking a word,
suddenly started, came near him, and began to cross himself. Then he
turned and bowed so low that his hand nearly touched the floor, and
said, "Do you also forgive me, Martinian Gavrilitsch," and he kissed
his shoulder. Latkin answered by kissing in the air and winking his
eyes: he evidently hardly knew what he was doing. Then my father
turned to all who were in the room--to David, Raissa and me. "Do what
you please, do whatever you think you may," he said in a low, sad
voice, and he left the room, completely broken down.

"Lord my! Lord my! have mercy on me!" repeated Latkin. "I am a man."

"Good-bye, David," said Raissa, leaving the room with her father.

"I'll be with you to-morrow," shouted David after her; and turning his
face to the wall he muttered, "I am very tired: I should like to go to
sleep;" and he became quiet.

For a long time I lingered there. I could not forget my father's
threat. But my fears proved groundless. He met me, but he uttered no
word. He too seemed uncomfortable. Besides, it soon was night and all
in the house went to rest.

XXIV.

The next day David got up as if nothing had happened, and not long
afterward, on one and the same day, two important events took place:
in the morning died the old Latkin, Raissa's father, and in the
evening Jegor, David's father, arrived. Since he had not sent any
letter or told any one, he took us all by surprise. My father exerted
himself actively to give him a warm reception. He flew about as if he
were crazy, and was as attentive as if he owed him money. But all his
brother's efforts seemed to leave my uncle cold: he kept saying, "Why
do you do that?" or, "I don't need anything." He was even cooler with
my aunt; besides, he paid very little attention to her. In her eyes
he was an atheist, a heretic, a Voltairian (in fact, he had learned
French in order to read Voltaire in the original). I found Uncle Jegor
as David had described him. He was a large, heavy man, with a broad,
pock-marked face, grave and serious. He always wore a hat with a
feather in it, frills and ruffles, and a tobacco-colored jacket, with
a steel sword by his side. David took a great deal of pleasure in him:
he even grew