d could not manage to place it on the cart at the same time as
the legs. For a moment the body hung as if it would fall to the
ground, and hide itself beneath the earth, away from these foolish and
wicked disturbers of its peace.

"Take him away!" ordered the Inspector, pointing to the Captain.

Kuvalda silently moved forward without protestation, passing the cart
on which was the teacher's body. He bowed his head before it without
looking. Martyanoff, with his strong face, followed him. The
courtyard of the merchant Petunikoff emptied quickly.

"Now then, go on!" called the driver, striking the horses with the
whip. The cart moved off over the rough surface of the courtyard. The
teacher was covered with a heap of rags, and his belly projected from
beneath them. It seemed as if he were laughing quietly at the prospect
of leaving the dosshouse, never, never to return. Petunikoff, who was
following him with his eyes, crossed himself, and then began to shake
the dust and rubbish off his clothes, and the more he shook himself the
more pleased and self satisfied did he feel. He saw the tall figure of
Aristid Fomich Kuvalda, in a grey cap with a red band, with his arms
bound behind his back, being led away.

Petunikoff smiled the smile of the conqueror, and went back into the
dosshouse, but suddenly he stopped and trembled. At the door facing
him stood an old man with a stick in his hand and a large bag on his
back, a horrible old man in rags and tatters, which covered his bony
figure. He bent under the weight of his burden, and lowered his head
on his breast, as if he wished to attack the merchant.

"What are you? Who are you?" shouted Petunikoff.

"A man ..." he answered in a hoarse voice. This hoarseness pleased and
tranquillised Petunikoff, he even smiled.

"A man! And are there really men like you?" Stepping aside he let the
old man pass. He went, saying slowly:

"Men are of various kinds ... as God wills... There are worse than me
... still worse ... Yes ..."

The cloudy sky hung silently over the dirty yard and over the
cleanly-dressed man with the pointed beard, who was walking about
there, measuring distances with his steps and with his sharp eyes. On
the roof of the old house a crow perched and croaked, thrusting its
head now backwards, now forwards. In the lowering grey clouds, which
hid the sky, there was something hard and merciless, as if they had
gathered together to wash all the di