stretched upon the fatal plank and to receive the correction he was in
the habit of administering, on his own account, those who momentarily
played his part as executioner adopted the same expedients, remembering
only the strokes spared and not the strokes received. This exchange of
mutual benefits, therefore, was productive of an excellent understanding
between Ivan and his comrades, which was never so firmly knit as at the
moment when a fresh execution was about to take place. It is true that
the first hour after the punishment was generally so full of suffering
that the knouted was sometimes unjust to the knouter, but this feeling
seldom out-lasted the evening, and it was rare when it held out after the
first glass of spirits that the operator drank to the health of his
patient.

The serf upon whom Ivan was about to exercise his dexterity was a man of
five or six-and-thirty, red of hair and beard, a little above average
height. His Greek origin might be traced in his countenance, which even
in its expression of terror had preserved its habitual characteristics of
craft and cunning.

When he arrived at the spot where the punishment was to take place, the
culprit stopped and looked up at the window which had already claimed the
young aide-de-camp's attention; it still remained shut. With a glance
round the throng which obstructed the entrance leading to the street, he
ended by gazing, with a horror-stricken shudder upon the plank on which
he was to be stretched. The shudder did not escape his friend Ivan, who,
approaching to remove the striped shirt that covered his shoulders, took
the opportunity to whisper under his breath--

"Come, Gregory, take courage!"