ceased.

"I don't hear it," said the sexton, stopping and looking at his wife
with his eyes screwed up.

But at that moment the wind rapped on the window and with it floated
a shrill jingling note. Savely turned pale, cleared his throat, and
flopped about the floor with his bare feet again.

"The postman is lost in the storm," he wheezed out glancing malignantly
at his wife. "Do you hear? The postman has lost his way!... I... I know!
Do you suppose I... don't understand?" he muttered. "I know all about
it, curse you!"

"What do you know?" Raissa asked quietly, keeping her eyes fixed on the
window.

"I know that it's all your doing, you she-devil! Your doing, damn you!
This snowstorm and the post going wrong, you've done it all--you!"

"You're mad, you silly," his wife answered calmly.

"I've been watching you for a long time past and I've seen it. From the
first day I married you I noticed that you'd bitch's blood in you!"

"Tfoo!" said Raissa, surprised, shrugging her shoulders and crossing
herself. "Cross yourself, you fool!"

"A witch is a witch," Savely pronounced in a hollow, tearful voice,
hurriedly blowing his nose on the hem of his shirt; "though you are my