and stillness of the river into an enchanted realm, full of stifling
smoke, crackling lights and uproar. By now one could distinctly see
people moving near the tar barrels. The flickering of the lights
gave a strange, almost fantastic, expression to their figures and
red faces. From time to time one caught among the heads and faces
a glimpse of a horse's head motionless as though cast in copper.

"They'll begin singing the Easter hymn directly, . . ." said Ieronim,
"and Nikolay is gone; there is no one to appreciate it. . . . There
was nothing written dearer to him than that hymn. He used to take
in every word! You'll be there, sir, so notice what is sung; it
takes your breath away!"

"Won't you be in church, then?"

"I can't; . . . I have to work the ferry. . . ."

"But won't they relieve you?"

"I don't know. . . . I ought to have been relieved at eight; but,
as you see, they don't come! . . . And I must own I should have liked
to be in the church. . . ."

"Are you a monk?"

"Yes . . . that is, I am a lay-brother."

The ferry ran into the bank and stopped. I thrust a five-kopeck
piece into Ieronim's hand for taking me across and jumped on land.
Immediately a cart with a boy and a sleeping woman in it drove