s; at one
moment the white, laughing face of a corpse would peep out of the
darkness, at the next a white horse would gallop by with an Amazon
in a muslin dress upon it, at the next a string of white swans would
fly overhead. . . . Shaking with anger and cold, and not knowing
what to do, Yergunov fired his revolver at the dogs, and did not
hit one of them; then he rushed back to the house.

When he went into the entry he distinctly heard someone scurry out
of the room and bang the door. It was dark in the room. Yergunov
pushed against the door; it was locked. Then, lighting match after
match, he rushed back into the entry, from there into the kitchen,
and from the kitchen into a little room where all the walls were
hung with petticoats and dresses, where there was a smell of
cornflowers and fennel, and a bedstead with a perfect mountain of
pillows, standing in the corner by the stove; this must have been
the old mother's room. From there he passed into another little
room, and here he saw Lyubka. She was lying on a chest, covered
with a gay-coloured patchwork cotton quilt, pretending to be asleep.
A little ikon-lamp was burning in the corner above the pillow.

"Where is my horse?" Yergunov asked.

Lyubka did not stir.

"Where is my horse, I am asking you?" Yergunov repeated still more
sternly, and he tore the quilt off her. "I am asking you, she-devil!"
he shouted.

She jumped up on her knees, and with one hand holding her shift and
with the other trying to clutch the quilt, huddled against the wall
. . . . She looked at Yergunov with repulsion and terror in her eyes,
and, like a wild beast in a trap, kept cunning watch on his faintest
movement.

"Tell me where my horse is, or I'll knock the life out of you,"
shouted Yergunov.

"Get away, dirty brute!" she said in a hoarse voice.

Yergunov seized her by the shift near the neck and tore it. And
then he could not restrain himself, and with all his might embraced
the girl. But hissing with fury, she slipped out of his arms, and
freeing one hand--the other was tangled in the torn shift--hit
him a blow with her fist on the skull.

His head was dizzy with the pain, there was a ringing and rattling
in his ears, he staggered back, and at that moment received another
blow--this time on the temple. Reeling and clutching at the
doorposts, that he might not fall, he made his way to the room where
his things were, and lay down on the bench; then after lying for a
littl