he sky. "Mikolai will have to forgive me," he murmured, and went on
with the occupation in which he had been disturbed before.

He had secured himself against interruption now, for he had bolted the
door. He was packing his belongings. He had arranged and hung up his
things in the room as though he had intended remaining at Starydwor for
ever. But now he tore down his parents' [Pg 286] photographs and those
of his sisters and brothers, which he had hung up over his bed, and the
picture of Mikolai and himself as soldiers, and the gay-coloured
calendar which had looked so nice on the wall--no, he would have to
leave the calendar, Mikolai would miss it too much.

He squeezed everything into his wooden box, and, as it would not close
at once, sat down on it impatiently. How fortunate it was that it was
no bigger, and that he could carry it comfortably on his shoulder!

He used to awake every night when the old clock in the passage struck
the hour of midnight. What had become of his blessed sleep? To-night
he would wake as usual, and then he would lie with open eyes and
listen--one o'clock, two o'clock--and when everybody was lying in that
deep, sound sleep which comes in the early hours of the morning, he
would quietly put on the rest of his clothes--he would not undress
himself entirely--and steal out of the room in his socks with his boots
in his hand and his box on his shoulder. Softly, very softly. But that
would hardly be necessary, for Mikolai always slept soundly, and there
was nobody else downstairs except Mr. Tiralla, and he no longer
counted, of course. So he could easily get away, for the key was in the
front door and the farm gate was quickly opened. Then he would run
across the fields--it would be dawn by that time and he would be able
to see the path--away, away to Starawie['s]. And then through
Starawie['s], where everybody would still be asleep, away, away to the
station in Gradewitz. The first train left at eight o'clock, he could
easily catch it. And when he was in the train, then--the man drew a
deep sigh of relief--then God had been merciful to him, then he was
saved.

Martin did not take into consideration that he was [Pg 287] treating
his friend badly. True, the thought had occurred to him for a moment
that he had given Mikolai his word and hand, but his duty to himself
seemed of more importance to him. His everlasting salvation was at
stake. He had felt that since the last time he had gone to confe