alive. At first it was horrible to her to
remain alone in the cottage; but, in course of time, the poor woman
grew accustomed to her sorrow. But it was impossible to recognize the
Pidorka of former days. No blush, no smile: she was thin and worn with
grief, and had wept her bright eyes away. Once, some one who evidently
took pity on her, advised her to go to the witch who dwelt in the
Bear's ravine, and enjoyed the reputation of being able to cure every
disease in the world. She determined to try this last remedy: word by
word she persuaded the old woman to come to her. This was St. John's
Eve, as it chanced. Petro lay insensible on the bench, and did not
observe the new-comer. Little by little he rose, and looked about him.
Suddenly he trembled in every limb, as though he were on the scaffold:
his hair rose upon his head, ... and he laughed such a laugh as
pierced Pidorka's heart with fear. "I have remembered, remembered!"
he cried in terrible joy; and, swinging a hatchet round his head, he
flung it at the old woman with all his might. The hatchet penetrated
the oaken door two vershok.[12] The old woman disappeared; and a child
of seven in a white blouse, with covered head, stood in the middle of
the cottage.... The sheet flew off. "Ivas!" cried Pidorka, and ran to
him; but the apparition became covered from head to foot with blood,
and illumined the whole room with red light.... She ran into the
passage in her terror, but, on recovering herself a little, wished to
help him; in vain! the door had slammed to behind her so securely that
she could not open it. People ran up, and began to knock: they broke
in the door, as though there were but one mind among them. The whole
cottage was full of smoke; and just in the middle, where Petrus had
stood, was a heap of ashes, from which smoke was still rising. They
flung themselves upon the sacks: only broken potsherds lay there
instead of ducats. The Cossacks stood with staring eyes and open
mouths, not daring to move a hair, as if rooted to the earth, such
terror did this wonder inspire in them.

[12] Three inches and a half.

I do not remember what happened next. Pidorka took a vow to go upon a
pilgrimage, collected the property left her by her father, and in a
few days it was as if she had never been in the village. Whither she
had gone, no one could tell. Officious old women would have dispatched
her to the same place whither Petro had gone; but a Cossack from Kiev
repo