And thus it went on for a long time, and the two people were very happy. The left entrance was opened somewhat more often than the other, but through the right, more colorful guests came in. Before that door one morning, Death was also waiting. The man hurriedly closed his door when he saw him, and the whole day through held it tightly shut. After a time, Death appeared before the left entrance. Trembling, the woman slammed the door and shoved home the heavy bolt. They did not speak with each other about this occurrence, but they opened the two entrances more rarely and tried to make do with what they had in the house. Now, of course, they lived in much greater poverty than they had before. Their supplies grew scant, and they were troubled. They both began to sleep badly, and during one of their long sleepless nights, suddenly they both heard at the same time a strange shuffling and rattling noise. It was behind the wall of the house, equally far from both entrances, and it sounded as though someone were starting to break out stones to make a new entrance in the middle of the wall. The two people, however, behaved in their terror as though they’d heard nothing special. They began to talk, they laughed unnaturally loud, and when they were tired out, the digging sound in the wall died away. Since that time, both entrances have remained completely shut up. The people live like prisoners. Both have become sickly and have strange fantasies. The noise is repeated from time to time. Then they laugh with their lips, while their hearts nearly die from fear. And they both know that the digging has become louder and clearer, and they have to talk and laugh ever louder with their ever-feebler voices.

I fell silent. “Yes, yes,” said the man beside me, “that’s the way it is; it’s a true story.”

“I read this one in an old book,” I added, “and a very curious thing happened. Next to the line that told how Death appeared in front of the woman’s entrance too, a small star was drawn, in old faded ink. It shone out from among the words as from behind a cloud, and for a moment I thought that if the lines were spread apart, it might be revealed that behind them was a sky full of stars, just the way it sometimes happens when the spring sky clears late in the evening. Then I completely forgot this trivial incident, until I found the same little star in the inside back cover of the book, as though reflected in a lake on the smooth glossy paper; and just below it began tender lines that ran like waves over the pale shiny surface. The writing had become indistinct in a number of places, but I was able to decipher it almost completely. This is more or less what was written there”: