only his crooked nose was to be seen. His shadow reminded one of
a poker. He denied that he had money, and said that they "only
tried to cut his throat out of malice," and from that day he took
to collecting rags, and that is why his head was always bent as
if incessantly looking on the ground. When he went about shaking
his head, and minus a walking-stick in his hand, and a bag on his
back--the signs of his profession--he seemed to be thinking
almost to madness, and, at such times, Kuvalda spoke thus,
pointing to him with his finger:

"Look, there is the conscience of Merchant Judas Petunikoff. See
how disorderly, dirty, and low is the escaped conscience."

Tyapa, as a rule, spoke in a hoarse and hardly audible voice, and
that is why he spoke very little, and loved to be alone. But
whenever a stranger, compelled to leave the village, appeared in
the dosshouse, Tyapa seemed sadder and angrier, and followed the
unfortunate about with biting jeers and a wicked chuckling in his
throat. He either put some beggar against him, or himself
threatened to rob and beat him, till the frightened mujik would
disappear from the dosshouse and never more be seen. Then Tyapa
was quiet again, and would sit in some corner mending his rags,
or else reading his Bible, which was as dirty, worn, and old as
himself. Only when the teacher brought a newspaper and began
reading did he come from his corner once more. As a rule, Tyapa
listened to what was read silently and sighed often, without
asking anything of anyone. But once when the teacher, having
read the paper, wanted to put it away, Tyapa stretched out his
bony hand, and said, "Give it to me . . ."