take
possession of him: he would gnaw and bite his hands like a man half
crazy, and in his vexation would tear out his hair by the handful,
until, calming down, he would relapse into forgetfulness, as it were,
and then would again strive to recall the past and be again seized with
fury and fresh tortures. What visitation of God was this?

Pidorka was neither dead not alive. At first it was horrible for her to
remain alone with him in the cottage; but, in course of time, the poor
woman grew accustomed to her sorrow. But it was impossible to recognise
the Pidorka of former days. No blushes, no smiles: she was thin and worn
with grief, and had wept her bright eyes away. Once some one who took
pity on her advised her to go to the witch who dwelt in the Bear's
ravine, and enjoyed the reputation of being able to cure every disease
in the world. She determined to try that last remedy: and finally
persuaded the old woman to come to her. This was on St. John's Eve, as
it chanced. Peter lay insensible on the bench, and did not observe the
newcomer. Slowly he rose, and looked about him. Suddenly he trembled in
every limb, as though he were on the scaffold: his hair rose upon his
head, and he laughed a laugh that filled Pidorka's heart with fear.

"I have remembered, remembered!" he cried, in terrible joy; and,
swinging a hatchet round his head, he struck at the old woman with all
his might. The hatchet penetrated the oaken door nearly four inches. The
old woman disappeared; and a child of seven, covered in a white sheet,
stood in the middle of the cottage.... The sheet flew off. "Ivas!" cried
Pidorka, and ran to him; but the apparition became covered from head to
foot with blood, and illumined the whole room with red light....

She ran into the passage in her terror, but, on recovering herself a
little, wished to help Peter. In vain! the door had slammed to behind
her, so that she could not open it. People ran up, and began to knock:
they broke in the door, as though there were but one mind among them.
The whole cottage was full of smoke; and just in the middle, where Peter
had stood, was a heap of ashes whence smoke was still rising. They flung
themselves upon the sacks: only broken potsherds lay there instead of
ducats. The Cossacks stood with staring eyes and open mouths, as if
rooted to the earth, not daring to move a hair, such terror did this
wonder inspire in them.

I do not remember what happened next. Pidorka made a vo