“ ‘But why are your hands all covered with blood?’

“ ‘Because I was forced to cut the throats of your father’s dogs, my dearest. They were baying Godspeed to the lingering guest. Come!’

“Once more we ran, until, at a turn in the path, we suddenly came upon my father’s horse. It had broken its halter, and fled from the stable, since it had no mind to perish in the flames.

“ ‘Mount, Katia,’ said my lover. ‘God has sent us this means of escape. Will you not? Are you afraid of me? I am not a heretic or a libertine. I will make the sign of the cross if you wish.’

“He did so, and upon that I mounted: and as he clasped me to his breast I forgot everything, as though I were in a dream. On returning to my senses I found that we had arrived at the brink of a large river. Descending the bank, we plunged into a bed of bullrushes, where I soon caught sight of a small boat which my companion had previously concealed there.

“ ‘Good-bye, brave horse,’ he said. ‘Good-bye. Seek now a new master, since your old one is gone.”

“I too ran to my father’s horse, and embraced it. Then we took our seats in the boat, and, as soon as my companion had run out the sculls, we lost sight of the bank. Presently he ceased rowing, and looked all around him at the water.

“ ‘Hail, Mother Volga!’ he cried. ‘Hail, my beautiful, my tempestuous river—the inexhaustible source at which all the children of God may drink! Foster-Mother, hast thou watched over my substance during my absence? Is my merchandise all in good order? Yet mayest thou take it all, thou stormy, thou insatiable one, if only thou wilt spare and be good to my pearl without price. . . . And, for thee,’ he added to myself, ‘do thou but speak to me a few words, my fair one—but a few words. Lighten my darkness, thou sun! Scatter my night, thou beacon!’

“He was laughing and talking in the same breath, in order to reassure me. Yet I could not meet his gaze, for I was burning with shame, and felt unable to utter a single word. The reason of this he understood.

“ ‘Be it so!’ he said, and his voice was full of tenderness now. ‘There can be no striving against compulsion. May God pardon me, my darling—my proud, my beautiful darling! Do you still hate me? Am I still altogether repugnant to you?’

“As I listened there suddenly came upon me a storm of passion. But this time it was the passion of love.

“ ‘Whether I hate you or not,’ I replied, ‘I would ask of you, Where else in the world would you have found a girl so bold, so insensate, as to admit you to her chamber in the dead of night? I have sold to you my soul for a mortal sin. My heart went suddenly mad, and I was powerless to restrain it. Of tears have I earned full measure. Yet it is not for you to gloat over the misfortunes of others; it is not for you to make sport of the heart of a young girl.’