younger pupils. Pasinkov was unchanged in his behaviour to me up to the
end of my time at the school, though the difference in our ages began
to be more noticeable, and I, I remember, grew jealous of some of his
new student friends. His influence on me was most beneficial. It was a
pity it did not last longer. To give a single instance: as a child I
was in the habit of telling lies.... In Yakov's presence I could not
bring my tongue to utter an untruth. What I particularly loved was
walking alone with him, or pacing by his side up and down the room,
listening while he, not looking at me, read poetry in his soft, intense
voice. It positively seemed to me that we were slowly, gradually,
getting away from the earth, and soaring away to some radiant, glorious
land of mystery.... I remember one night. We were sitting together
under the same lilac-bush; we were fond of that spot. All our
companions were asleep; but we had softly got up, dressed, fumbling in
the dark, and stealthily stepped out 'to dream.' It was fairly warm out
of doors, but a fresh breeze blew now and then and made us huddle
closer together. We talked, we talked a lot, and with much warmth--so
much so, that we positively interrupted each other, though we did not
argue. In the sky gleamed stars innumerable. Yakov raised his eyes, and
pressing my hand he softly cried out:

'Above our heads
The sky with the eternal stars....
Above the stars their Maker....'

A thrill of awe ran through me; I felt cold all over, and sank on his
shoulder.... My heart was full.... Where are those raptures? Alas!
where youth is.

In Petersburg I met Yakov again eight years after. I had only just been