good a man should live so alone; but after I knew him better I saw plainly that although he did his best to be calm and happy, and smiling toward others, there was something which he concealed which had embittered his life. Sometimes, even in his most joyous moments, he would stop suddenly, sigh, and turn pale; tears like large pearls would flow down his cheeks; but as soon as he became conscious of them, he would put his gun on his shoulder and go off to the woods or go to work in the garden or occupy himself in some way so that no one should see that he had been weeping.

"In the service of such a master I was so happy that I forgot to think of myself. I was beginning to be advanced in age; he himself undertook to make a marriage settlement for me, and to establish me in the village, but how could I bear to leave him? Besides, at the dwor we had become so accustomed to doing without women that we almost forgot there were any in the world. We learned by experience that it was very possible to get on without them; and the old cossack was of the opinion that they were good for nothing but to make a fuss, and cause disorder and waste in the household. Nevertheless, he married after a while.

"Our master never spoke to any woman; he never even cast a glance upon those who came in his way; and as for us servants, it never even occurred to us to marry. Our master grew old, and so did we. Some of us died; others grew gray-headed, and I sooner than any of them, for I was scarcely thirty years old when my head, God only knows why, began to turn white. Our life at the dwor underwent no change; the master continued erect and vigorous, and went hunting constantly, but he showed less enthusiasm for it, and preferred to work in the garden, for his legs began to refuse to obey him. Probably they had grown stiff, in consequence of his having tramped so much through the water and the snows of winter, for he walked a great deal and very rapidly.

"When he felt himself growing feeble and infirm, he became sadder. As it was thenceforth difficult for him to engage in any sort of labour, he buried himself in his books and sighed frequently, muttering mournfully to himself; and at night he prayed aloud, calling upon the name of God in a plaintive, tender voice which brought the tears to my eyes. We tried to amuse him, now in one way, now in another, but this became a more difficult task every day. I raised some birds for him, and this appeared to distract him; but he grew more feeble constantly, and began to be indifferent to everything.

"As soon as he took to his bed, some fine people, until then unknown to us, arrived. First came a lady, who, it was said, was our lord's sister-in-law; then came her husband, who, it appeared, was our lord's brother; and after that a horde of cousins, nephews, and other relatives, who formerly had not known him, and who now seemed to spring up from the ground.

"But all these people were so different from him that one never would have supposed that they belonged to the same family. They were polished and elegant in their manners, cordial in their greeting, and spoke in gentle voices; but we learned from their servants that all this was put on, for in their own homes they conducted themselves quite differently. I do not know what good reason our master found for sending them away, but they all suddenly departed in great anger; and after that we were left alone, thank God!

"We continued to lead a more and more gloomy existence. Thirty odd years had passed, and I had scarcely perceived the lapse of them; the last of these I spent constantly near the bedside of my good lord. There were moments when he still amused himself, sometimes with me, sometimes with old Bekas or some of his tame birds; at other times a book would please him; then he read night and day, and seemed more tranquil. It was easy to perceive that for him the end was near; but we loved him so much that we thought only of him, and never asked ourselves what would become of us afterward. We dared not think of the moment when he should be taken from us. I was almost forty when my good master died. I had passed my whole life near him; I was as devoted to him as if I had been his dog; consequently when we had laid him in his coffin, I felt as if it was a great misfortune to survive him, I was so sad and lonely and out of heart.

"I sat down at his feet and wept a long time. The lawyers came and wrote papers and sealed them; one of his cousins took charge of the funeral. I know nothing of what happened after that, for I was like one stunned. The next day I entered his room, swept it, and arranged it as if he still lived, and then sat there, bewildered, waiting for I knew not what. At times all seemed a terrible dream. But soon the sister-in-law, the brother, the cousins, and other relatives arrived, and turned everything upside down, searching everywhere for the will. They went through the house from top to bottom; and as they found no will, the brother and sister-in-law took possession of everything, sending the rest of the family abruptly away.

"They then undertook to manage everything after their own liking, to sell, to rent, collect money, and rule the village people. For my part, I begged them only to allow me to remain in service at the dwor; but what did they care for the dwor, when they did not wish to live there? They ordered me to go and live in a hut in the village; but there was not a vacant one, and our deceased master had made no arrangement for me. There seemed therefore nothing left for me but to take old Hindra's place as shepherd. But when they became convinced that I had given up faithfully to them all that my deceased master had confided to my care, they had sufficient consideration for me to allow me to end my days here. As I have told you, there was no vacant cottage, and I had no relatives. Do you see that old ruined inn down there near the clump of trees behind the cemetery? It was there that they gave me a small lodging and a bit of garden ground, which rented for three roubles a year. I have now lived there over twenty years, giving thanks to God. Each day I go to the old dwor; I recall the days of the past, I weep, and then I return to my hole--"

"And you live all alone?"

"Just as you see me. It is my fate doubtless to die alone also, without ever having had any one to live near me. Since the death of my good master, I never have been able to become attached to any man, and no man has ever seemed to care for me. I do not complain, for no one in the village seeks to do me any injury; they would, on the contrary, rather help me, but I am alone, always alone."

"At your age, that is very sad--"

"Oh, yes, it is sad," sighed the old man, "that is very true; but what is there to do? When one is gray-headed and walks with a stick, it is too late to marry. Besides, no woman would have me, except perhaps some one I would not have myself. God gave me neither relatives, friends, nor brethren. What can I do? I must die alone, as I have lived."

"And do you never murmur?"

"What good would that do?" answered the old man, quietly. "Should I lessen my grief or alter my fate by offending the Lord God? And moreover, cannot man become accustomed to anything, even to such a life as mine? That is, if one lives long enough."

So saying, he sighed, shook out his pipe, and taking up his stick, prepared to depart.

"Good-evening, my child," said he; "are you going to spend the night here?"

"The Jew asked me to sleep in the cabin; for there are some bags of flour and barrels of bacon on board, and he is afraid they may be stolen."

"Even the thought of theft should be unknown to us," answered the old man; "but God guards what the master takes care of. I