miles from Ananova."

"God give you health. And why are you sitting here?

"We are sitting here watching. You see, there is a dead body. . . ."

"What? what body? Holy Mother!"

The pilgrim sees the white linen with the ikon on it, and starts
so violently that his legs give a little skip. This unexpected sight
has an overpowering effect upon him. He huddles together and stands
as though rooted to the spot, with wide-open mouth and staring eyes.
For three minutes he is silent as though he could not believe his
eyes, then begins muttering:

"O Lord! Holy Mother! I was going along not meddling with anyone,
and all at once such an affliction."

"What may you be?" enquires the young man. "Of the clergy?"

"No . . . no. . . . I go from one monastery to another. . . . Do
you know Mi . . . Mihail Polikarpitch, the foreman of the brickyard?
Well, I am his nephew. . . . Thy will be done, O Lord! Why are you
here?"

"We are watching . . . we are told to."

"Yes, yes . . ." mutters the man in the cassock, passing his hand
over his eyes. "And where did the deceased come from?"

"He was a stranger."

"Such is life! But I'll . . . er . . . be getting on, brothers. . . .
I feel flustered. I am more afraid of the dead than of anything,
my dear souls! And only fancy! while this man was alive he wasn't
noticed, while now when he is dead and given over to corruption we
tremble before him as before some famous general or a bishop. . . .
Such is life; was he murdered, or what?"

"The Lord knows! Maybe he was murdered, or maybe he died of himself."

"Yes, yes. . . . Who knows, brothers? Maybe his soul is now tasting
the joys of Paradise."

"His soul is still hovering here, near his body," says the young
man. "It does not depart from the body for three days."

"H'm, yes! . . . How chilly the nights are now! It sets one's teeth
chattering. . . . So then I am to go straight on and on? . . ."

"Till you get to the village, and then you turn to the right by the
river-bank."

"By the river-bank. . . . To be sure. . . . Why am I standing still?
I must go on. Farewell, brothers."

The man in the cassock takes five steps along the road and stops.

"I've forgotten to put a kopeck for the burying," he says. "Good
orthodox friends, can I give the money?"

"You ought to know best, you go the round of the monasteries. If
he died a natural death it would go for the good of his soul; if
it's a suicide it's a sin."

"That's true.