Thus the months passed.

Serge studied without ceasing. "If there is truth," he
thought, "I shall find it." All the time he Thought of
Olga Ileyitch. His face grew pale. "Justice, Justice,"
he thought, "what is justice and truth?"




CHAPTER III

Now when Serge had been six months in the house of Madame
Vasselitch, Ivan Ivanovitch, his father, sent Itch, the
serving man, and Yump, the cook, his wife, to Moscow to
see how Serge fared. And Ivan first counted out rubles
into a bag, "ten, and ten and still ten," till Itch said,
"It is enough. I will carry that."

Then they made ready to go. Itch took a duck from the
pond and put a fish in his pocket, together with a fragrant
cheese and a bundle of sweet garlic. And Yump took oil
and dough and mixed it with tar and beat it with an iron
bar so as to shape it into a pudding.

So they went forth on foot, walking till they came to
Moscow.

"It is a large place," said Itch, and he looked about