eck into an iron
collar, and seeing that all was in readiness and that no sign favourable
to the culprit had been made from the still closely shut window, the
young aide-de-camp beckoned with his hand, saying, "Now, then, begin!"

"Patience, my lord, patience," said Ivan, still delaying the whipping, in
the hope that some sign might yet be made from the inexorable window. "I
have a knot in my knout, and if I leave it Gregory will have good right
to complain."

The instrument with which the executioner was busying himself, and which
is perhaps unknown to our readers, was a species of whip, with a handle
about two feet long. A plaited leather thong, about four feet long and
two inches broad, was attached to this handle, this thong terminating in
an iron or copper ring, and to this another band of leather was fastened,
two feet long, and at the beginning about one and a half inches thick:
this gradually became thinner, till it ended in a point. The thong was
steeped in milk and then dried in the sun, and on account of this method
of preparation its edge became as keen and cutting as a knife; further,
the thong was generally changed at every sixth stroke, because contact
with blood softened it.

However unwillingly and clumsily Ivan set about untying the knot, it had
to come undone at last. Besides, the bystanders were beginning to
grumble, and their muttering disturbed the reverie into which the young
aide-de-camp had fallen. He raised his head, which had been sunk on his
breast, and cast a last look towards the window; then with a peremptory
sign; and in a voice which admitted of no delay, he ordered the execution
to proceed.

Nothing could put it off any longer: Ivan was obliged to obey, and he did
not attempt to find any new pretext for delay. He drew back two paces,
and with a spring he returned to his place, and standing on tiptoe, he
whirled the knout above his head, and then letting it suddenly fall, he
struck Gregory with such dexterity that the lash wrapped itself thrice
round his victim's body, encircling him like a serpent, but the tip of
the thong struck the plank upon which Gregory was lying. Nevertheless,
in spite of this precaution, Gregory uttered a loud shriek, and Ivan
counted "One."

At the shriek, the young aide-de-camp again turned towards the window;
but it was still shut, and mechanically his eyes went back to the
culprit, and he repeated the word "One."

The knout had traced three blue