news that his wife was dead, and that he had no longer a home.

When Stepan had finished his time in prison, he was taken to the prison
stores, and his own dress was taken down from the shelf and handed to
him.

"Where am I to go now?" he asked the prison officer, putting on his old
dress.

"Why, home."

"I have no home. I shall have to go on the road. Robbery will not be a
pleasant occupation."

"In that case you will soon be back here."

"I am not so sure of that."

And Stepan left the prison. Nevertheless he took the road to his own
place. He had nowhere else to turn.

On his way he stopped for a night's rest in an inn that had a public bar
attached to it. The inn was kept by a fat man from the town, Vladimir,
and he knew Stepan. He knew that Stepan had been put into prison through
ill luck, and did not mind giving him shelter for the night. He was a
rich man, and had persuaded his neighbour's wife to leave her husband
and come to live with him. She lived in his house as his wife, and
helped him in his business as well.

Stepan knew all about the innkeeper's affairs--how he had wronged the