Say something to me ... a word of comfort to a friend ...
come.... I love you, brother! ... All men are beasts.... You were
the only man for me ... though you were a drunkard. Ah! how you did
drink vodki, Philip! That was the ruin of you! You ought to have
listened to me, and controlled yourself.... Did I not once say to you
...?"

The mysterious, all-destroying reaper, called Death, made up his mind
to finish the terrible work quickly, as if insulted by the presence of
this drunken man at the dark and solemn struggle. The teacher sighed
deeply, and quivered all over, stretched himself out, and died. The
Captain stood shaking to and fro, and continued to talk to him.

"Do you want me to bring you vodki? But it is better that you should
not drink, Philip ... control yourself or else drink! Why should you
really control yourself? For what reason, Philip? For what reason?"

He took him by the foot and drew him closer to himself.

"Are you dozing, Philip? Well, then, sleep.... Good-night....
To-morrow I shall explain all this to you, and you will understand that
it is not really necessary to deny yourself anything.... But go on
sleeping now ... if you are not dead."

He went out to his friends, followed by the deep silence, and informed
them:

"Whether he is sleeping or dead, I do not know.... I am a little
drunk."

Tyapa bent further forward than usual and crossed himself respectfully.
Martyanoff dropped to the ground and lay there. Abyedok moved quietly,
and said in a low and wicked tone:

"May you all go to the Devil! Dead? What of that? Why should I care?
Why should I speak about it? It will be time enough when I come to die
myself.... I am not worse than other people."

"That is true," said the Captain, loudly, and fell to the ground.

"The time will come when we shall all die like others.... Ha! ha! How
shall we live? ... That is nothing.... But we shall die like every
one else, and this is the whole end of life, take my word for it. A
man lives only to die, and he dies ... and if this be so what does it
matter how or where he died or how he lived? Am I right, Martyanoff?
Let us therefore drink ... whilst we still have life!"

The rain began to fall. Thick, close darkness covered the figures that
lay scattered over the ground, half drunk, half asleep. The light in
the windows of the dosshouse flickered, paled, and suddenly
disappeared. Probably the wind blew it out or else the