With what impatience and terror I waited for the third bell!

"At last the third bell that brought my deliverance rang at last,
the train moved; we passed the prison, the barracks, came out into
the open country, and yet, to my surprise, the feeling of uneasiness
still persisted, and still I felt like a thief passionately longing
to escape. It was queer. To distract my mind and calm myself I
looked out of the window. The train ran along the coast. The sea
was smooth, and the turquoise sky, almost half covered with the
tender, golden crimson light of sunset, was gaily and serenely
mirrored in it. Here and there fishing boats and rafts made black
patches on its surface. The town, as clean and beautiful as a toy,
stood on the high cliff, and was already shrouded in the mist of
evening. The golden domes of its churches, the windows and the
greenery reflected the setting sun, glowing and melting like
shimmering gold. . . . The scent of the fields mingled with the
soft damp air from the sea.

"The train flew rapidly along. I heard the laughter of passengers
and guards. Everyone was good-humoured and light-hearted, yet my
unaccountable uneasiness grew greater and greater. . . . I looked
at the white mist that covered the town and I imagined how a woman
with a senseless blank face was hurrying up and down in that mist
by the churches and the houses, looking for me and moaning, 'Oh,
my God! Oh, my God!' in the voice of a little girl or the cadences
of a Little Russian actress. I recalled her grave face and big
anxious eyes as she made the sign of the Cross over me, as though
I belonged to her, and mechanically I looked at the hand which she
had kissed the day before.