p and walked to the entrance, but Abyedok laughed, and took
another drink.

"Strike a light, there!" shouted the Captain.

Meteor went into the house and lighted the lamp. Then a thin line of
light streamed out over the courtyard, and the Captain and another man
managed to get the teacher into the dosshouse. His head was hanging on
his breast, his feet trailed on the ground, and his arms hung limply as
if broken. With Tyapa's help they placed him on a wide board. He was
shivering all over. "We worked on the same paper ... he is very
unlucky.... I said, 'Stay in my house, you are not in my way,' ... but
he begged me to send him 'home.' He was so excited about it that I
brought him here, thinking it might do him good... Home! This is it,
isn't it?"

"Do you suppose he has a home anywhere else?" asked Kuvalda, roughly,
looking at his friend. "Tyapa, fetch me some cold water."

"I fancy I am of no more use," remarked the man in some confusion. The
Captain looked at him critically. His clothes were rather shiny, and
tightly buttoned up to his chin. His trousers were frayed, his hat
almost yellow with age and crumpled like his lean and hungry face.

"No, you are not necessary! We have plenty like you here," said the
Captain, turning away.

"Then, good-bye!" The man went to the door, and said quietly from
there, "If anything happens ... let me know in the publishing office...
My name is Rijoff. I might write a short obituary... You see he was
an active member of the Press."

"H'm, an obituary, you say? Twenty lines forty kopecks? I will do
more than that. When he dies I will cut off one of his legs and send
it to you. That will be much more profitable than an obituary. It
will last you for three days... His legs are fat. You devoured him
when he was alive. You may as well continue to do so after he is dead
..."

The man sniffed strangely and disappeared. The Captain sat down on the
wooden board beside the teacher, felt his forehead and breast with his
hands and called "Philip!"

The sound re-echoed from the dirty walls of the dosshouse and died away.

"This is absurd, brother," said the Captain, quietly arranging the
teacher's untidy hair with his hand. Then the Captain listened to his
breathing, which was rapid and uneven, and looked at his sunken grey
face. He sighed and looked upon him, knitting his eyebrows. The lamp
was a bad one... The light was fitful, and dark shadows flickered on