It was very quiet. High above them, protecting himself from the human
eye by dark purple shields, the flaming Dragon rested. His look from
behind the deceptive, vacillant shields was hot and evil; he poured
out his dazzling light, tormented men with it, yet wished them to
rejoice in his presence and to compose hymns to him. He wished to
rule, and it seemed as though he were motionless, as though he would
never decide to retire. But his livid weariness already began to
incline him westwards. Still his passion grew, and his kisses were
scorching, and his infuriated gaze with its livid purple dimmed the
glances of the two girls.

The girls' glances were seeking--seeking Trirodov's house.

Trirodov's house stood about a verst and a half from the edge of the
town, not at the end where the dirty and smoky factory buildings
squatted, but quite at the other end, along the River Skorodyen, above
the town of Skorodozh. This house and the estate attached to it
occupied a considerable space, surrounded by a stone wall. One side of
the place faced the river, the other the town, the rest adjoined the
fields and woods. The house stood in the middle of an old garden. From
behind the tall white stone wall the tops of the trees were to be
seen, while between them, quite high, two turrets of the house, one
somewhat higher than the other, were visible. The sisters felt as if
some one in the high turret were looking down upon them.

There were ominous rumours concerning the house even in the days when
it belonged to the previous tenant Matov, a kinsman of the Rameyev
sisters. It was said that the house was inhabited by ghosts, and by
phantoms who had left their graves. There was a footpath close to the