up the
lantern from the floor, went to the table, and ignited the
wick.

"Probably you are not accustomed to a pine-knot," he said, as
he shook his curls.

I looked at him. Rarely has it been my fortune to behold such a
fine, dashing fellow. He was tall of stature, broad-shouldered,
and splendidly built. From beneath his dripping shirt, which
was open on the breast, his mighty muscles stood prominently
forth. A curly black beard covered half of his surly and manly
face; from beneath his broad eyebrows, which met over his nose,
small, brown eyes gazed bravely forth. He set his hands lightly
on his hips, and stood before me.

I thanked him, and asked his name.

"My name is Foma," he replied--"but my nickname is 'The
Wolf'."[24]

"Ah, are you The Wolf?"

I gazed at him with redoubled curiosity. From my Ermolai and
from others I had often heard about the forester, The Wolf,
whom all the peasants round about feared like fire. According
to their statements, never before had there existed in the
world such a master of his business. "He gives no one a chance
to carry off trusses of brushwood, no matter what the hour may
be; even at midnight, he drops down like snow on one's head,
and you need not think of offering resistance--he's as strong
and as crafty as the Devil.... And it's impossible to catch him
by any means; neither with liquor nor with money; he won't
yield to any allurement. More than once good men have made
preparations to put him out of the world, but no, he doesn't
give them a chance."

That was the way the neighboring peasants expressed themselves
about The Wolf.

"So thou art The Wolf," I repeated. "I've heard of you,
brother. They say that thou givest no quarter to any one."

"I perform my duty," he replied, surlily; "it is not right to
eat the master's bread for nothing."

He pulled his axe from his girdle, sat down on the floor, and
began to chop a pine-knot.

"Hast thou no housewife?" I asked him.

"No," he replied, and brandished his axe fiercely.

"She is dead, apparently."

"No--yes--she is dead," he added, and turned away.

I said nothing; he raised his eyes and looked at me.

"She ran away with a petty burgher who came along," he
remarked, with a harsh smile. The l