nd rubles of his own, and that the knife was not his. But his
voice was broken, his face pale, and he trembled with fear as though
he went guilty.

The police-officer ordered the soldiers to bind Aksionov and to put
him in the cart. As they tied his feet together and flung him into the
cart, Aksionov crossed himself and wept. His money and goods were
taken from him, and he was sent to the nearest town and imprisoned
there. Enquiries as to his character were made in Vladimir. The
merchants and other inhabitants of that town said that in former days
he used to drink and waste his time, but that he was a good man. Then
the trial came on: he was charged with murdering a merchant from
Ryazan, and robbing him of twenty thousand rubles.

His wife was in despair, and did not know what to believe. Her
children were all quite small; one was a baby at her breast. Taking
them all with her, she went to the town where her husband was in jail.
At first she was not allowed to see him; but after much begging, she
obtained permission from the officials, and was taken to him. When she
saw her husband in prison-dress and in chains, shut up with thieves
and criminals, she fell down, and did not come to her senses for a
long time. Then she drew her children to her, and sat down near him.
She told him of things at home, and asked about what had happened to
him. He told her all, and she asked, "What can we do now?"

"We must petition the Czar not to let an innocent man perish."

His wife told him that she had sent a petition to the Czar, but it had
not been accepted.

Aksionov did not reply, but only looked downcast.

Then his wife said, "It was not for nothing I dreamt your hair had
turned grey. You remember? You should not have started that day." And
passing her fingers through his hair, she said: "Vanya dearest, tell
your wife the truth; was it not you who did it?"

"So you, too, suspect me!" said Aksionov, and, hiding his face in his
hands, he began to weep. Then a soldier came to say that the wife and
children must go away; and Aksionov said good-bye to his family for
the last time.

When they were gone, Aksionov recalled what had been said, and when he
remembered that his wife also had suspected him, he said to himself,
"It seems that only God can know the truth; it is to Him alone we must
appeal, and from Him alone expect mercy."

And Aksionov wrote no more petitions; gave up all hope, and only
prayed to God.

Aksionov was