ld have been better for him
to lie in Slavonic earth.'

Elena looked at Renditch.

'Captain,' she said, 'take me and him and carry us across to the other
side of the sea, away from here. Isn't that possible?'

Renditch considered: 'Possible certainly, but difficult. We shall have
to come into collision with the damned authorities here. But supposing
we arrange all that and bury him there, how am I to bring you back?'

'You need not bring me back.'

'What? where will you stop?'

'I shall find some place for myself; only take us, take me.'

Renditch scratched the back of his head.

'You know best; but it's all very difficult. I will, I will try; and you
expect me here in two hours' time.'

He went away. Elena passed into the next room, leaned against the wall,
and for a long time stood there as though turned to stone. Then she
dropped on her knees, but she could not pray. There was no reproach in
her heart; she did not dare to question God's will, to ask why He had
not spared, pitied, saved, why He had punished her beyond her guilt,
if she were guilty. Each of us is guilty by the fact that he lives; and
there is no one so great a thinker, so great a benefactor of mankind
that he might hope to have a right to live for the service he has
done.... Still Elena could not pray; she was a stone.

The same night a broad-bottomed boat put off from the hotel where the
Insarovs lived. In the boat sat Elena with Renditch and beside them
stood a long box covered with a black cloth. They rowed for about an
hour, and at last reached a small two-masted ship, which was riding at
anchor at the very entrance of the harbour. Elena and Renditch got
into the ship; the sailors carried in the box. At midnight a storm had
arisen, but early in the morning the ship had passed out of the Lido.
During the day the storm raged with fearful violence, and experienced
seamen in Lloyd's offices shook their heads and prophesied no good.
The Adriatic Sea between Venice, Trieste, and the Dalmatian coast is
particularly dangerous.

Three weeks after Elena's departure from Vienna, Anna Vassilyevna
received the following letter in Moscow:--

'My DEAR PARENTS.--I am saying goodbye to you for ever. You will never
see me again. Dmitri died yesterday. Everything is over for me. To-day
I am setting off with his body to Zara. I will bury him, and what will
become of me, I don't know. But now I have no country but Dmitri's
country. There, they are prepar