long trail of frozen corpses. I had an actual vision of that trail:
a pathetic multitude of small dark mounds stretching away under the
moonlight in a clear, still, and pitiless atmosphere--a sort of horrible
peace.

"But what other peace could there be for them? What else did they
deserve? I don't know by what connection of emotions there came into my
head the thought that the earth was a pagan planet and not a fit abode
for Christian virtues.

"You may be surprised that I should remember all this so well. What is
a passing emotion or half-formed thought to last in so many years of a
man's changing, inconsequential life? But what has fixed the emotion
of that evening in my recollection so that the slightest shadows remain
indelible was an event of strange finality, an event not likely to be
forgotten in a life-time--as you shall see.

"I don't suppose I had been entertaining those thoughts more than five
minutes when something induced me to look over my shoulder. I can't
think it was a noise; the snow deadened all the sounds. Something it
must have been, some sort of signal reaching my consciousness. Anyway, I
turned my head, and there was the event approaching me, not that I knew
it or had the slightest premonition. All I saw in the distance were two
figures approaching in the moonlight. One of them was our Tomassov. The
dark mass behind him which moved across my sight were the horses which
his orderly was leading away. Tomassov was a very familiar appearance,
in long boots, a tall figure ending in a pointed hood. But by his side
advanced another figure. I mistrusted my eyes at first. It was amazing!
It had a shining crested helmet on its head and was muffled up in a
white cloak. The cloak was not as white as snow. Nothing in the world