Hey you guys, I want to do this quick story time in between Relentless because the relentless can probably go on for another let's be honest I have no idea how that story is going to end But when I do have a story and I know at the beginning in the middle and it's gonna look like I want to go ahead and Share it before I forget. Okay, so this is called the nightingale diner So the main character is Steve Steve was in his mid 50s Steve rolls over to the sound of his alarm clock going off and he rolls over in a six o'clock and he Turns off the alarm. He's tired, honey. He's mid 50s. He is tired He knows he has to get up for work soon. He rolls over to his side to see that his wife His wife Carolyn has already gotten up. She must be downstairs getting his breakfast together They've been married for 30 years Steve gets up. He goes into the bathroom. He showers. He looks into the mirror looks at his little belly He had put on a couple of pounds the last 10 15 years. He didn't know if it was his You know the whiskey he would drink every now and then or the egg sandwiches, whatever it is He knew say he need to cut back some right So he go downstairs to see that his wife Carolyn was at this stole fixing breakfast He goes oh, he's a good morning. Sweetheart and gives her a kiss on the cheek. She's a good morning, Steve Did you sleep well, honey? He's like, yeah, not really Unfortunately, Steve had not been sleeping well for the past five years or so. He's been having nightmares waking up shaking sweating and He didn't know if it was stress from running the diner Steve was the owner of a local diner called the nightingale diner His father had ran it previously. This was not only job that Steve had So he knew that eventually once his father passed away that he will be running the diner himself Steve and Carolyn didn't have any children by the way. You guys they just never had children and so Steve's father died of a heart attack 15 years ago And of course that diner was left to Steve to run and it was a great diner breakfast diner They serve breakfast and lunch mostly. Okay, so Steve's like, yeah, I just want to make sure that I get up to the diner early because Jerome was supposed to have locked up and Shirley apparently gave me a call last night So I got to make sure that everything's okay. Now Jerome was Carolyn's nephews or basically Carolyn and Steve's nephew. He had had troubles with Being on drugs and all that but they wanted to give him a chance. So they figured they would have him to work at the diner And so Jerome had a bad streak. He had been in and out of jail He had been on drugs for a while, but for the last year or so He had supposed to have been clean, but for some reason he had left the freezer open last night and surely had called frantically Steve was too tired to go down there So he figured he would get to the diner a little bit early to figure out what's going on, right? So, you know, Steve sits down. He has his breakfast and he heads down to the diner Which is just 15 minutes away from his home. He heads down in his old Ford pickup truck he gets to the diner and You know, he unlocks the doors and goes to the back and sure enough the freezer is in disarray Some of the meat they would definitely have to toss but some of it in the back. It was okay He has no idea why Jerome would be rummaging through the freezer What he specifically gave him instructions on how to lock up and Jerome had been working in the diner for six months And so he doesn't understand why all of a sudden he was acting this way So the diner opens up you guys at seven o'clock and so Steve needs to hurry up shooting up He hears a bill, you know, he hears the front door chime And it's Shirley Miss Shirley had been working at the diner for 30 years Steve was mustering up the strength to hear her complain And so he could hear Shirley's friend Steve Steve did you see what this nephew of yours did and so Steve gets my he's a yes surely I saw what he did It's so Shirley came around miss Shirley was all of 250 pounds and she stood at about five foot two hundred. She was around and so she's like, well, what are you gonna do about it Steve? Steve turned around to see Shirley standing in the doorway of the freezer with her hands on her hips He's like, well, I'm gonna talk to him She's like, well, you better because I can't imagine how much money you lost in all this meat Look at all this Steve you have to throw all this stuff away So Steve kind of rolled his eyes He knew he did not have time for this the nana was gonna open soon So he wanted to make sure everything was okay and everything was set up at the front. He's like, Shirley I know I know I will talk to him. So Shirley looks to me. She said, well, you better you better do something around here Shirley goes up to the front she manages the front of the diner where the people sits up at the at the bar almost so Steve, you know starts throwing away some of the meat that they can't salvage and closes the fridge Excuse me closes the deep freezer.  So he says hello to his regulars and make sure everything is okay So about two hours go by and Steve has to go have another drink. He's jittery He he's set to point to where if he doesn't have a drink he gets to shake so he go back to his office pours himself another shot of whiskey and shoots it back.   He's like, who? Who's at the front Shirley? She's like, yo nephew Jerome, is his name Jerome? Yeah, his name is Jerome. So he's like, what? He told Jerome he called him when he found out that he left the freezer door open He told him to not come up there. So Steve is confused. He's like, why is he here? She's like, I don't know. You need to go talk to him.  So you need to go up there and talk to him See if he's like, okay, I will I will and she said you need to hold off someone on your neck straight, too Shirley knew Shirley was like a second mother Steve and she knew that He had a drinking partner.  He doesn't know why Jerome was up here at the diner when he told him You do not need to be coming up in a diner. So he walks towards the front of the diner and he sees Jerome Sure enough sitting at one of the booths and Jerome you guys was in his mid 20s. Like I said sketchy But something about him look a little off to Steve so Steve goes over to the, you know, area where he's sitting at He's like Jerome man. What was happening? What's wrong? Jerome looked at up at him and sure enough Steve knew something was wrong His eyes were bloodshot So Jerome was like kind of shaking and Steve sits down. He's like, are you okay? What's wrong? Jerome and Jerome's like shaking. He's like, did you see it? Did you see what was in the back? And so Steve was like, what are you talking about? I Saw that you left the deep freezer open, you know, we lost a quite a bit of meat back there But Jerome was like it was a panther and so that's when Steve's heart's kind of sunk and it was clear to him that he was having one of his episodes and If he didn't get him out he there's no telling what you're wrong with what say next So so Steve gets up and he leans over on the other side of Jerome. He's like, come on man Let's let's walk out. I can drive you home and that's when Jerome snatches his arm away from Steve He's I don't need to go in anywhere.  You know, are you hungry? You want to get shortly to fix you a plate? It's a Jerome was like, I don't mean to fix me.  He's having an episode, baby More than an episode at this point you guys So Steve knew that this was a risky but then he said, okay Well, you want to go back to the office and have a drink with me? And that's when, you know Jerome then looked at him and shook his head So Steve led him to the back and that's when sure they looked over to the side judging both of them She's like, hmm so they go to the back and so You know Steve looks at him and he could tell something was off He wasn't sure if it if it was because he wasn't taking his medication If he was back on drugs or all the above but he knew that he needed to get Jerome home and safe As soon as possible.  And so at this point, you know, Jerome was like, well when I came back here last night I was, you know, putting the food back in the in the freezer and that's when I saw it And so Steve looks at him so sad. He was like, look man, there is no Panther here I know that you have your issues whatever Carolina and I can do to help you just let us know That's when Jerome looking he's like, you think I'm a liar?  I just I know there's no black panther out here and that's when surely Knock on the door and then just let herself in and she's like Is y'all okay?  He's like, why are you always coming here? Oh woman, that's when surely was like now. Look here son.  So that's when Jerome reveals that he actually has a weapon. He has a gun you guys And that's when surely was like what what the hell and she runs towards the front door. She managed to get out That's when Steve is like he's now he's scared and his heart starts pounding. He's like, look Jerome man I could drive you home. Put the gun away wherever you need. We can we can handle it Just put the gun away Jerome. I was like, no, no, we got to go back into that that freezer uncle and find that that Panther Steve didn't know what to do. So he wanted to make sure He didn't know if to get him in the back So the customers don't see him again afraid but before he can even make up his mind Jerome heads up to us the front and Steve races after him Jerome makes it to the front At this point you guys the diner has about 10 15 other customers, right? Including Cheryl and let me just say that and surely screaming now Steve can hear screaming at the front Jerome is waving the gun around and Steve is trying to ask him put the gun down Jerome is like, no, I gotta kill him.     I got I got that they think He is in the episode. You got this guys. There's nothing that anyone could do at this point to stop him. He sees a couple Uh, try to run towards door and he shoots the woman in the back and she falls and so That's when Steve's like, no, no, no, no, you gotta stop this. You gotta stop this Jerome and he's like, no I gotta kill him. I gotta kill him. That's when Steve tackles him from the back And he tries to wrestle the gun away and so at this point, Steve and Jerome are fighting over the gun They're trying to get it Jerome turns around and he shoots his uncle in the stomach For a split second something changes with Jerome's eyes and he looks down at his uncle. He's like, I'm sorry And so Steve manages to get himself up. He crossed he tries to cross in the back and he Makes his way to the deep freezer. He can see two of the it looks like two of the customers Who tried to hide in the freezer too?  We're gonna try to lock ourselves in there So he closed the door They could all they could hear is gunshots at this point. It's just shooting So Steve sits down and he could tell he's losing a lot of blood and he's closing his eyes opening Closing and all he sees is black blackness when he looks up is surely And all of a sudden they hear it go quiet and Steve looks up again. He's open and closed and surely it's like Steve Steve are you okay? He's like, I'm sorry, Shirley. I should have gotten him. I used to get it's okay At this point, Shirley had knelt down next to him and he could tell that she was um She he could tell that she was dying and she was basically succumbing to her wounds too And she looked pale on the face, but she was smiling and Steve thought that was kind of odd He and Steve kept saying, you know, this can't be real. It just can't be happening And that's when Shirley said actually it is happening Steve And you know what happens next and Steve looks at her oddly He's like, I don't know Shirley. I'm sorry. I should have got you on in the back And so that's when Shirley shook her head. She said it's okay, Steve This is this is happening, but it'll happen again And they'll keep happening like it's been happening for the last five years And Steve looked at her confused That's when he closed his eyes and darkness engulfed him. All right, and we're gonna cut to the front Okay, so now this is a cut scene. It's the front of the diner There's a newscast out there that's a young woman holding a microphone in front of the camera and she begins to speak This is the scene of the nightingale massacre five years ago Where the honest nephew killed several patrons including himself And the longtime owner mr. Steve. So we're gonna cut at six o'clock Steve looks over He sees that his wife curling had gotten up They've been married for 30 years and he knew that she had gotten up and was fixing himself some breakfast He has some coughing and he gets ready to go to work He has to open up the diner early because He got a call the night before from Shirley letting him know that his nephew's you're wrong had been there And had unfortunately left the deep freezer open So Steve had to get there early to see what he could salvage and what need to be You know, basically what he could throw away or what he could keep He gets there Steve is all of a sudden has this Uneasy feeling of deja vu. He can't shake it. He goes ahead and go into the diner He opens it up And that's where he gets the door built at the front rings The door at the front chiming and must be Shirley Steve Steve is that you are you back there? He's like, yes. Yes. Shirley. Come on. I'm in the back He turns around and there is miss Shirley in the doorway miss Shirley was all of 250 pounds, baby She had both hands on her hip hips looking at Steve Oh, I can't believe that nephew's a your seat. I can't believe he you have to talk to him Steve was like, he turns around and he looks at her. He's like And that's when Shirley was like, Steve, are you are you okay? He's like, yeah I'm just having a really really bad case of deja vu there And miss Shirley looked at him and kind of smile and she's like, oh honey, you have no idea And she goes into the back.   Um, I got this idea from one of my favorite short stories Is a Stephen King short story.  So I hope you guys enjoyed it That it wasn't too often disturbing for y'all. Okay. Take care. Bye


This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Brooks Jensen, Anacordis, Washington. Master and Man by Leo Tolstoy This book consists of ten sections. Section 1 It was in the seventies, the day after the feast of St. Nicholas in the winter. There had been a festival in the parish, and the church sexton, Vasily Andreech Brukanov, who was also a merchant of the Second Guild, had been forced to remain at home since not only was his presence necessary at the church, but he had been receiving and entertaining some friends and relations. Now, however, the last of his guests had departed, and he was able to get himself ready to visit a neighboring landowner for the purpose of buying some timber for which he had long been in treaty. He was in a hurry to be off, lest rival buyers from the town should deprive him of this eligible bargain. The only reason why the young landowner had asked ten thousand rubles for the timber was that Vasily Andreech had offered him seven, and seven represented about a third of its value. Perhaps Vasily might have gone on haggling still further, for the wood was in his own district, and there was a recognized agreement between the local merchants and himself that one merchant should not bid against another in the same district. Were it not that he had heard that the government forest contractors were also thinking of coming to treat for the Goviyachkinsky timber, and therefore he had better make up his mind to go at once and clinch the matter. So, as soon as the festival was over, he took seven hundred rubles of his own out of the strongbox, added to them two thousand three hundred more out of the church funds, which he had by him, making three thousand in all, and counted them carefully. Then he placed them in his pocketbook and got ready to go. Nikita, the only one of Vasily's workmen who was not drunk that day, ran to put the horse in. Nikita was not drunk that day for the reason that he had formerly been a toper, but after pawning his jacket and leather boots for drinking during the flesh-eating days, had suddenly foresworn liquor altogether and drunk nothing during the second month. Even on the present occasion he had kept his vow, in spite of the temptation of the liquor which had flowed in all directions during the first two days of the festival. He was a moujik of about fifty, and hailed from a neighbouring village, where, however, it was said that he was not a householder, but had lived most of his life among strangers. Everywhere he was valued for his handiness, industry, and strength, as well as, still more, for his kindly, cheerful disposition. Yet he had never remained long in any one place. Since twice a year or more he had been accustomed to get drunk, and at those times would not only pawn everything he possessed, but grow up rorious and quarrelsome as well. Vasily himself had dismissed him more than once, yet had always taken him on again because of the store which he set by his honesty, care for animals, and, most important of all, cheapness. In fact, Vasily allowed Nikita a wage, not of eighty rubles a year, the true market value of such a workman, but of forty only. Moreover, this wage was doled out irregularly and in driblets, as well as, for the most part, not in cash at all, but in the form of goods purchased at a high price from Vasily's own store. Nikita's wife, Martha, a rugged dame who had once been good-looking, lived at home with her little lad and two girls, but never invited her husband to come and see her, since, in the first place, she had lived for the last twenty years with a cooper, originally a moujeque from a distant village who had come to lodge in the hut, and in the second, because although she could like with her husband when he was sober, she dreaded him like fire when he was drunk. Once, for instance, when drunk at home, he had seized the occasion to avenge himself upon his wife for all his submissiveness to her when sober, by breaking into her private box, possessing himself of her best clothes, laying all the gowns and other geogas upon the woodblock, and chopping them into shreds with an axe. Yet all his earnings were handed over to Martha. Never once had he disputed this arrangement. In fact, only a couple of days before the festival, she had driven over to Vasily's store and been supplied by him with white meal, tea, sugar, and a pint of vodka to the value of three rubles, as well as with five rubles in cash, for all of which she thanked Vasily as for a particular favor, although as a matter of fact Vasily was in Nikita's debt to the extent of at least twenty rubles. What agreement need you and I make together, Vasily had said to Nikita, take what you need as you earn it. I don't do business as other folks do, keep my creditors waiting, and go in for detailed accounts and deductions and so on. You and I can trust one another. Only serve me well, and I shall never fail you. In saying this Vasily really had believed that he was being good to Nikita, for he could speak so persuasively and had always been so entirely supported in his decisions by his dependents from Nikita upwards that even he himself had come to feel comfortably persuaded that he was not cheating them, but actually benefitting them. Yes, yes, I understand you, Vasily and Rage, Nikita had replied. I understand you perfectly well, and will serve and work for you as for my own father. Nevertheless Nikita had not been ignorant that Vasily was cheating him. He had only felt that it would be no use his trying to get a detailed account out of his master, and that in default of another place to go to, he had better grin and bear it and take what he could get. So, when ordered to harness the horse, Nikita proceeded to the stable in his usual, cheerful, good-natured manner, and with the usual easy stride of his rather waddling legs. There he took down from a peg the heavy headstall, and with its straps and tassels and rattling the bit against the side-pieces, proceeded to the stall where the horse was standing which he was ready to get. Oh, ho, so you find time long, do you, my little beauty, he said, and replied to the low whinny of welcome which greeted him from the shapely, middle-sized, low-rummed, dark-brown, stallion cob, which was the sole occupant of the loose box. Nay, nay, he went on. You are in a hurry to be off, I daresay, but I must water you first. He always spoke to the animal, as one might speak to a being capable of understanding human speech. Then, having wiped the sleek, though dusty and harnessed galled back of the cob with a cloth, he adjusted the headstall to the handsome young head, pulled the ears and forehead tough through, let down the halter, and led the animal out to drink. As soon as Brownie had picked his way gingerly out of the dung-heaped stall, he grew lively and threw up his heels, pretending that he wanted to kick Nikita as the latter trodded behind him to the water trough. Quiet then, quiet then, you little rascal, exclaimed Nikita, though well aware that Brownie was taking good care to throw out his hind leg in such a manner as to only graze Nikita's greasy fur coat, not strike it direct, a trick which Nikita always admired. Having drunk his fill of cold water, the animal snorted as he stood twitching his strong, wet lips, from the hairs of which the bright, transparent drops kept dripping back into the trough. Then he stood motionless for an instant or two, as though engaged in thought, and then suddenly gave a loud nay. You don't want any more, you wouldn't get it even if you did so you needn't ask for it, said Nikita, explaining his conduct to Brownie with absolute gravity and precision. Then he set off running back to the stable, holding the spirited young cub by the halter as the animal kicked and snorted all across the yard. None of the other workmen were about, only the cook's husband, who had come over for the festival from another village. Go in, will you, my boy, said Nikita to this man, and ask which sled I am to get ready, the big one or the little one. The man disappeared into the house, which was iron-roofed, and stood upon a raised foundation, and returned in a moment with a message that it was the little sledge which was to be used. Meanwhile Nikita slipped the collar over the cub's head and adjusted the brass-studded saddle-piece, and was now walking with a light-painted dugah in one hand and the end of the cub's halter in the other towards the two sledges standing beneath the shed. In a footnote the translator explains the term dugah is a curved frame fitted with bells which surmounts the collar in a Russian harness. If the little sledge, then the little sledge, he remarked, and proceeded to back the clever little animal into the shafts, it pretending meanwhile to bite him, and with the other man's assistance to harness it to the vehicle. When all was ready and there remained only the reins to be put on, Nikita sent his assistant to the stable for some straw, and then to the storehouse for a sack. There now, that will do, said Nikita, as he stuffed into the sledge the freshly cut Odin straw which the man had brought. But nay, nay, he said to Brownie, you need not prick your ears like that. Well suppose we put the straw so, and the sack on top of it, then it will be comfortable for you to sit upon. And he suited the action to the words by tucking the edges of the sack under the straw disposed around the seat. Thank you, my boy, he added to the cook's husband. Two pairs of hand work quicker than one.  Uncle Makete came the shrill little voice of a seven-year-old boy from behind him as the youngster ran hastily out of the porch into the yard, a youngster who was dressed in a short jacket of black fur, new white, vast shoes, and a cozy cap. Let me get up too, he implored, fastening his jacket as he ran. Well, well, come here, then, my dear, said Makete, pulling him up. Then, seating the master's pale, thin little son behind him, he drove the boy, beaming with pleasure, out into the street. It was now three o'clock in the afternoon and freezing hard, the thermometer registering only ten degrees. Yet the weather was dull and gusty, and fully half the sky was covered by a low, dark bank of cloud. In the courtyard the air was still, but directly one stepped into the street outside, the wind became more noticeable, and the snow could be seen twirling itself about in wreaths as it was swept from the roof of a neighboring outbuilding into the corner near the bath-house. Hardly had Makete return through the gates and turn the cobs head towards the steps when Vasily Andreech, a cigarette between his lips and a sheepskin coat upon his shoulders, fastened tightly and low down with a belt, came out of the house door and upon the high snow-trapled flight of steps, making them creak loudly under his felt boots as he did so.  Then, puffing the smoke out of his mustache, he glanced at the cob as it re-entered the gates and began to turn out the corners of his coat-collar in such a way that the fur should be next to his face on either side. His face was clean-shaven, except for the mustache, and yet not liable to be fouled with his breath.  Vasily was a little animated with the wine which he had been drinking with his guests, and therefore the more ready to prove of all that belonged to him and all that he had done in life. The aspect of his little son at that moment, of the little boy whom he intended to be his heir, afforded him the greatest satisfaction as he stood blinking at him and grinning with his long teeth. In the porch behind Vasily stood his pale, thin wife, Vasilya Andreecha.  Had not you better take Nikita with you, she said, stepping timidly forward from the porch. Vasily returned her no answer, but merely frowned angrily as though somehow displeased at her words and spat upon the ground. You see, you will be traveling with money on you, she continued in the same anxious tone. Besides, the weather might grow worse. Don't I know the road, then, that I must needs have a guide with me burst out Vasily with that unnatural stiffening of his lips which marked his intercourse with buyers and sellers when he was particularly desirous of enunciating each syllable distinctly?  My goodness, why you stick to me like a bathing-tale, cried Vasily, where can I find room for him on the sledge? I am quite ready to go, put in Nikita cheerfully. Only someone else must feed the other horses while I am away, this last to his mistress. Yes, yes, I will see to that, Nikita, she replied. I will tell Simon to do it. Time to go with you, Vasily Andreyich? said Nikita expectantly. Well, I suppose I must humor the good lady, answered Vasily. Only if you go, you had better put on a rather better, not to say warmer, diplomatist's uniform than that. And he smiled and winked one eye at Nikita's fur jacket, which, truth to tell, had holes under its two arms, down the back and round the sides, besides being greasy, matted, shorn of hooks, and torn into strips around the edges. Here, my good fellow, come and hold the cob, will you? shouted Nikita across the yard to the cook's husband. No, no, let me do it, cried the little boy, drawing his small red frozen hands out of his pockets and catching hold of the chilly rains. Don't be too long over your new uniform, please, said Vasily to Nikita with a grin. No, no, Vasily Andreyich, I shan't be a moment, protested Nikita, as he went shuffling hurriedly off in his old felt boots towards the servants' quarters across the yard. Now, then, my good Oran Inchka, give me my halat from the stove. I am going with master, shouted Nikita, as he burst into the hut and seized his belt from a peg. And here in a footnote the translator describes a halat as a kind of frock coat. The cook, who had been enjoying a good sleep after dinner and was now getting tea ready for her husband, greeted Nikita cheerfully and catching the infection of his haste, began to bustle about briskly as he himself. First she took from the stove a shabby but well-air cloth halat and set about shaking and smoothing it out with all possible speed. You are far more fit to go with master than I am, he said to the cook, in accordance with his usual habit of saying something civil to everyone with whom he came in contact. Then, twisting about him the shabby, well-worn belt, he succeeded first in compressing his not over-prominent stomach and then in drawing the belt with great effort over his fur coat. There you are, he said, not to the cook but to the belt, as he tucked its ends in. You can't very well burst apart like that. Then with a hoist and much heaving of the shoulders, he drew the cloth halat over all, stretching its back well to give looseness in the arms and patted it into place under the armpits. Finally he took his mittens from a shelf. Now, said he, I am all right. But you have forgotten about your feet, cried the cook. Those boots are awful. Nikita stopped, as if struck by this. Yes, perhaps I ought to change. He began, but changed his mind, and exclaiming, No, he might go without me if I did. I have not far to walk. Bolted off into the yard. But won't you be cold in that halat only, Nikita? Said his mistress when he reached the sledge. No, indeed. How should I? It is very warm, answered Nikita, as he disposed the straw over the fore part of the sledge in such a manner as would conceal his feet after he had mounted, and thrust the whip, not needed for so willing a steed, under the straw. Vasily had already taken his seat, his broad back with its double covering of furs, filling almost the entire rear part of the sledge. Then taking up the reins, he flicked the cob with them while Nikita jumped into the fore part of the sledge, just as it started, and sat leaning forward to the left and sticking out one leg. This ends Part 1. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Brooks Jensen, Anacortis, Washington. Master and Man by Leo Tolstoy. Section 2. The good little cob moved the sledge rapidly along with the light creaking of the runners as he trotted a round pace over the well-beaten, frozen piece of road leading to the village. Hello! What have you jumped up for? cried Vasily, suddenly, clearly enjoying the fact that an authorized passenger was trying to perch himself upon the runners behind. Give me the whip, Nikita, he interjected.  The boy jumped off, brownie broke into a gallop, but soon changed to a trot again. Kresty, where Vasily lived, was a hamlet of six houses only, and when they had got beyond the blacksmith's hut at the end, they at once perceived that the wind was much stronger than they had thought it to be, and that the road ahead was almost invisible. The track of the sledge became snowed over almost as fast as made, and only the fact that the road was a little higher than the ground on either side of it rendered it at all distinguishable. The snow was whirling over the countryside and blotting out the horizon, while the Teliatinsky forest, generally clearly visible, now showed only as a dark mass looming at intervals through the snow dust. The wind was blowing from the left, and kept turning brownie's mane over his thick, fat neck and blowing his feathery tail, bound at the top in a plain knot, across his flank. Owing to the wind, too, Nikita's tall coat collar where he sat on the weather side of the sledge kept pressing itself tightly against his cheeks and nose. The cob can't get up too much of a pace today. There's too much snow on the ground, said Vasily, who prided himself on the excellence of his steed. Once I drove him to Pashutino in half an hour. What did you say, asked Nikita, whose tall coat collar had prevented him from hearing what was said. I said that I have driven to Pashutino in half an hour, called Vasily. That's something to boast of indeed. He's a good animal if there ever was one, commented Nikita, after which they kept silent for a while. Vasily, however, was inclined to be talkative. What do you think? I told your wife the other day not to let her cooper drink all the tea. He bawled once more in the firm conviction that Nikita must be feeling flattered at being talked to by such an important and highly educated man as himself, as well as so greatly taken with his own joke about the cooper, that it never entered into his head that the topic might be distasteful to Nikita. However, the latter had once more failed to catch his master's words for the violence of the wind, so Vasily repeated his pleasantry at the very top of his educated voice. God be with her, Vasily Andreech, returned Nikita when he understood, I never interfere with their affairs. She has given me little cause for blame, and, so long as she treats the lad well, I merely say, God be with her. Well, well, said Vasily, and changed the subject. Are you going to buy a horse in the spring, he continued? I only wish I could, replied Nikita, as he turned his coat collar back a little and leaned over towards his master. The new topic interested him, and he wanted to catch every word. My little lad is fast growing up and not to learn to plow, but I have squandered all my money. Well, if you'll take the low-rumped nag off my hands, I won't ask you much for it, said Vasily, whose spirits were rising, and who therefore recurred instinctively to his ruling passion, the passion which absorbed his whole faculties, namely the pursuit of bargains. I would rather you lent me fifteen roubles and let me go and buy one in the horse market, answered Nikita, knowing full well that the low-rumped nag which Vasily was asking him to buy was worth no more than seven roubles at the outside. But that as soon as ever Vasily had handed him over the animal, he would swear that it was worth at least twenty-five, and therefore retain about a half a year's wages to cover the amount. The horse's splendid one went on Vasily in his precise poisonous-like tones. I want to do you a service as well as myself, honestly now. Brekinov would never do any man a bad turn. I would rather be out of pocket myself than see others so, yes on my honour. The horse is a magnificent one. I am sure of it, said Nikita with a sigh.  For about half an hour they drove in silence. The wind kept getting down on Nikita's legs and threw a hole in his mitten. But he hunched his shoulders and breathed into the coat-collar muffled over his mouth so that he did not feel the cold very much at all. What do you think? Shall we go round by Kara Mishavo or straight on? asked Vasily presently. The road by way of Kara Mishavo was the longer and the rougher one, yet on the other hand it was clearly defined by posts on either side. The road straight on was a good deal nearer, but used by few travellers, as well as either altogether devoid of posts or marked only by small ones which would now be almost drifted over. Nikita debated matters for a moment. The road by Kara Mishavo is longer than the other one, but a good deal the easier to drive over, he decided at length. Yet if we go straight on, pursued Vasily, who was inclined towards the route he named, we have only to get into the hollow and then we can't possibly lose our way. It will be splendid going through the forest. As you wish, said Nikita, and turned up his coat-collar again. Accordingly, Vasily had his way, and after driving about half a versed further on, turned to the left where a tall young oak tree stood. Here the translator inserts a footnote that a versed is about two-thirds of an English mile. Its branches and the few dead leaves which still clung to them were being madly dashed about by the wind, which, after the turning, meant the travellers almost full in the face. Light snow began to fall, and Vasily tightened the reins, puffed out his cheeks, and let the breath escape slowly from under his mustache while Nikita dozed. They had driven like this in silence for about ten minutes when Vasily gave an exclamation. What is it, asked Nikita, opening his eyes. Vasily returned no answer, but twisted himself round to look back, then he gazed ahead. The cob was still trotting along, his flanks steaming with sweat. What is it, asked Nikita again? What is it, do you say, cried Vasily in an angry mimicry of the question, why only that I can't see any posts now, we must be off the road. Wait a minute, then, while I go and look for it, said Nikita, as he leapt lightly from the sledge, and taking the whip from beneath the straw went ahead and towards the left, the side on which he had been sitting. The snow had not been very deep that year, so that, as yet, the road had been easily passable the whole way along. But here there were patches where it reached knee high and smothered Nikita's boot-tops. He kept on trying the ground, both with his feet and the whip as he walked along, yet the road had vanished. Well, said Vasily when Nikita returned to the sledge, no road on this side answered Nikita, I must try the other. There seems to be something dark showing ahead remarked Vasily, go and see what it is. Nikita did so, and found it to be only a spot where the naked sprouts of some winter corn sown on a piece of black earth were making a dark patch on the snow as they waved before the wind. Nikita circled round to the right, and then returned to the sledge again, beating the snow from his halat and boots and remounted. We must go to the right, he said with decision. The wind was on our left a moment ago, but now it is straight in our faces. Yes to the right. Yes to the right, he concluded with an error of conviction. Vasily just managed to catch what he said, and turned the cob in the direction indicated, yet no road revealed itself there, although they went on for a considerable time. Meanwhile the wind showed no signs of dropping, and the snow continued. Well, we are all together lost now, Vasily and Rach, observed Nikita, suddenly, and half as though he were pleased at the fact. What is this, though, he went on, pointing to a blackened potato top which was projecting above the snow. Vasily at once stopped the cob, which was now sweating heavily, and moving its stout flanks with difficulty. Yes, what is it, he echoed. It means that we are on the Zakarevka State. That is where we have got to. Surely not, exclaimed Vasily. Yes, it is, as I say, insisted Nikita. You can tell, too, by the sound of the sledge runners, that we are driving over a potato field. Look at the bits of potato tops which they have dragged off. Yes, these are the Zakarevka Market Gardens. A fine place to get landed in, said Vasily. Well, what is to be done now? We must keep going to the right, and we shall be sure to come out somewhere or other, answered Nikita, if we don't actually strike Zakarevka, we shall at all events come across some tenant's farm. They hurriedly assented and drove the cob forward in the direction Nikita had advised. They proceeded thus for a considerable time, now coming upon bare grass, now upon rough patches of frozen ground over which the sledge went grating loudly. Then, again, they would find themselves passing over stubble of winter or spring corn, with the dead straws or sticks of weeds projecting above the snow, and waving madly before the wind. Once they found themselves laboring through deep, level, pure white drifts, with nothing whatever showing above the top. All the while the snowfall continued, and the snow dust whirled about the ground. The cob was evidently failing now, for his flanks were white and steaming with sweat. He proceeded only at a foot's pace. Suddenly he stumbled, and then plunged forward in some ditch or gully. Vassili was for pulling up, but Nikita shouted to him, Why stop, go on, go on! We must get him out of this. Now then, my beauty, now then, my pet, he went on to the cob, encouragingly, as he leapt from the sledge, only to stick fast in the ditch himself. However, the cob extricated himself presently, and scrambled back onto the frozen ridge which lined the bank. Evidently it was a ditch dug out by hand. Where are we now, queried Vassili? We must find that out, answered Nikita. Let us push on a bit, and we shall arrive somewhere. Isn't that the Goviachkinsky forest surely, said his master presently, pointing to something black looming in the snow ahead? It may be. We'd better push on and find out, rejoined Nikita. As a matter of fact, he had already distinguished the oblong patches of some withered vine leaves showing against the blackness of the object in question, and knew therefore that it was more likely to be a habitation of some kind than a forest. Yet he hesitated to speak before he knew for certain. Sure enough, they had not proceeded more than twenty yards beyond the ditch, when trees showed up clearly before them, and some melancholy sound became audible. Nikita had guessed rightly. It was not a forest they had come to, but a row of tall vines and a few withered leaves still quivering upon them. Evidently, they marked the trench of a threshing floor. Just as the travelers had almost reached these vines, and could tell that the melancholy sound arose from the wind sweeping through their rustling leaves, the cob took a sudden plunge upward with his forehoofs, pulled up his hindquarters after them, turned to the left, and went on no longer reaching to his knees. It was the road again. Now we have reached it, exclaimed Nikita, but the lord only knows where. The cob, however, never faltered, but went straight ahead with the snow-swept road, until just as they had covered about a hundred yards their uproads before them the rectangular outlines of a waddled barn, with its roof piled up with snow and the snow dust blowing from it in clouds. Passing the barn, the road wound back into the wind a little, and they found themselves in a snowdrift. A short way further on could be seen an opening between two buildings, so that it was clear that the road lay through the snowdrift, and that the latter must be surmounted. Sure enough, they had no sooner accomplished this than they found themselves in a village street, in the nearest courtyard of which some frozen linen was hanging and rustling distractedly in the wind. It comprised two shirts, one of them white and the other one red, a pair of drawers, some leggings, and a petticoat of which the white shirt was particularly abandoned in its antics as it waved its sleeves before the wind. Ugh, the lazy woman, though I'm sorry to have to say it of her, said Nikita with the glance at the waving shirts, this ends Section 2. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Brooks Jensen, Anacortis, Washington. Master and Man by Leo Tolstoy Section 3. The wind was as strong at the entrance to the street as it had been in the open country, and the roadway piled with snow, but in the middle of the hamlet everything seemed warm and quiet and cheerful. A dog came barking out of a yard while in another yard an old woman came running from somewhere with her head swathed in a handkerchief, but stopped as she was making for the door of the hood and stood for a moment in the house. From the middle of the village came the sound of girls singing, and altogether there seemed to be less wind and cold and snow here than outside. Why, this must be Grishkino, said Vasily. It is, replied Nikita, and Grishkino it was. It turned out afterwards that they had left the road upon their right and traveled some eight bursts at a tangent to their roadway, though still more or less in the direction of their proper goal. Yet Govyachkina was a full five bursts from Grishkino. Halfway up the street they encountered a tall man walking in the center of the roadway. Who are you, he cried as he stopped, then recognizing Vasily he cut hold of one of the shafts, rested his hands upon it, and climbed to the seat of the sledge. It was a friend of Vasily's and Isai, known as the worst horse-thief in the district.  We have been trying to get to Govyachkina. What a way to take, then. You should have gone by Malakova. It's no good saying what we should have done when we didn't do it, retorted Vasily as he pulled up the cob. He looked at Isai, looking the cob over and passing his hand under the now drooping stump of its stout, knotted tail in his usual horsey manner. Are you going to stay the night here? No, my friend. We have further yet to go. You had much better stay, but who is this? Why, if it isn't Nikita Stepinich? Yes, no one else, replied Nikita, but pray, tell us, brother, how to avoid it again. How to avoid losing your way again? Why turn back and go right along the street, and the road is straight in front of you. Don't turn to the left, but keep on till you come nearly to a larger village, and then to the right. But whereabouts is the turning near that village, asked Nikita again, is it on the summer or the winter road? The winter. You will come to the village. The village stands a tall, ragged, oaken post. That is where you are to turn off.  You had better have stayed the night here, shouted Isai after them, but Vasily shook up the cob and returned no answer. To cover five verts on level of the fact that the snow now seemed to them to have ceased and the wind to have dropped. Passing from the street again, with its roadway trampled hard and showing black here and there with patches of fresh dung, they drove past the yard where the linen was hanging out to dry. The white shirt had now partly torn away from the line and was dangling by one frozen sleeve only, and went on until they came to the vine stocks again. Here they were in the open country again, only to discover that the blizzard had in no way abated, but rather on the contrary, increased. The road was drifted over ahead, and nothing but the posts alongside could keep them from leaving it. These posts, too, were difficult to distinguish since the wind was head-on. Vasily knit his brows as he bent forward to watch for the cob more rain than before and trusted to its sagacity. Sure enough, the cob never faltered, but went on turning to the left or the right according to the windings of the road and feeling for it with his hooves. So that despite the fact that the wind kept rising and the snow falling ever thicker and thicker, the posts remained plainly visible on either side. They had been driving like this for about ten minutes, when there was something black in front of the cob, something which was moving along in a tangled whirl of wind-driven snow.  Pull out high, look out in front of you, came in a chorus of shouts from this vehicle and Vasily pulled out accordingly. In the sledge were seated evidently they were guests returning from the village festival. One of the men was lashing the snow-covered flanks of their pony with a dry branch. His two comrades were shouting and gesticulating at one another in the four part of the sledge, and the old woman, muffled up and wide over with snow, was seated motionless at the back. Whose men are you? shouted Vasily. Ah, ski! was all that could be heard in the answer. Eh? Ah, ski! repeated one of the moujiks at the top of his voice, but it was impossible to distinguish precisely what he said. Lay on, don't give way to them, shouted another to the one be laboring the pony with the branch. You are returning from the festival, I suppose? They are gaining, they are gaining.  They are jumping against each other almost interlocking and then parting again until finally the moujiks sledge began to be overhauled. Their shaggy, fat-bellied snow-covered pony blowing heavily under its low dugah and evidently frantic though in vain to escape from the flagellation of the dry branch kept shuffling along on its stumpy legs through the deep snow, although at times they almost gave way beneath it. Its muzzle, that apparently of a young animal with its lower lip projecting like a fishes, the nostrils distended and the ears laid back in terror, kept level with Nikita's shoulder for a few seconds and then began to drop behind. That's what drink will make men do observe Nikita. The pony will be ruined by treatment like that. What asiatic brutes these fellows are. For several minutes the bobbing of the distressed pony's nostrils could be heard behind them as well as the drunken shouts of the moujiks. Then the first sound died away and presently the second also. Nothing whatever was to be heard now except the whistling of the wind in the traveler's ears and an occasional faint scrape of the runners over patches which the wind had swept bare. This contest with the rival appeared and enlivened Vasili so that he drove the cob with greater assurance than ever and without watching for the posts at all, leaving matters in fact to the cob entirely. Nikita also had nothing to do so that, as usual with him when thus situated, he fell into a doze in order to make up for arrears of sleep at other times. Suddenly the cob stopped short almost pitching Nikita forward at the sledge. We have gone wrong again, said Vasili. How do you know? Because there are no posts to be seen. We must have left the road. Well, if we have, I must look for it again, remarked in Nikita abruptly as he got out and began to trudge about the snow, stepping as lightly as possible on the balls of his splayed-out feet. He kept this up for a long time, now two, now reappearing, now vanishing again, and then returned. No road there, he remarked as he mounted the sledge. It must be somewhere ahead. The dusk was now coming on, and although the blizzard had not increased, it had also not lessened. If only we could hear those mougiques, sighed Vasili. They won't overtake us now, replied Nikita, for we must look for it. Perhaps they have done the same, he added, as an afterthought. Well, which way now, inquired Vasili? Give the cob his head, advised Nikita, and perhaps he will take us right. Here, give me the reins. Vasili relinquished them nonetheless readily because his hands were half frozen in their warm mittens. Nikita took the reins, but let them lie on his twitch. In fact, he took keen pleasure in thus trying the intelligence of his favorite. Sure enough, after pricking his ears first to the one side, and then to the other, the clever animal started to turn round. He can almost speak, cried Nikita. My word, how well he knows what to do.  The wind was now at their backs again, and it seemed warmer. Ah, what a knowing fellow he has went on, Nikita, delighted with his pet. Kirgizanak is strong enough, of course, but an absolute fool, whereas this fellow, well, see what he found out with his ears alone. No need of telegraphs for him, when he can smell out a road or versed away. And indeed, less than half an hour later, a black object, either a wood or a village, began to loom ahead, while tourists reappeared on their right, placing it beyond out that the travelers had hit the road once more. If this isn't Grishkino again, exclaimed Nikita, suddenly. And Grishkino it was. On their left showed the barn with the dust blowing from its roof, while further on could be seen the clothesline with its burden of shirts and drawers still fluttering in the wind. Once again they drove up the plainly quiet and warm and cheerful. Once again the mayary roadway appeared, voices and singing became audible, and the dog barked as before. The dusk, however, was now so far advanced that lights could be seen gleaming in some of the windows.  Who is there, credit voice, in answer to Nikita's summons? The Brekinovs, from Gristi, brother, replied Nikita, please let us in. Someone could be heard moving away from the window, and in another two minutes the sound flash of the outer door rattled and there came out a tall, old white-bearded mougique holding the door half closed behind him to keep the wind from blowing into the hut. He was clad in a fur coat, hastily thrown over a white holiday shirt, while behind him stood a young fellow in a red shirt in tall boots. How is it with you, Andreiich? inquired the old man. We have lost our way, my friend, we tried to get to Goviachkina but landed here, and we set off again and have just missed the road for the second time. But how came you to go wrong, asked the old man. Here, Petrushka, and he turned to the young fellow in the red shirt, go and open the yard gates. Certainly responded the youngster cheerfully and ran forward out of the porch. No, no, we must not stop the night interposed Vasily. When you be going now, it's nearly dark. You would much better stay here. I should have been only too glad to do so, but I simply cannot. Business, you see, my friend, and business won't wait. Then at least come in and warm yourselves with some tea, said the old man. Yes, we might do that, replied Vasily. The night won't grow any darker than it is now, for the moon will soon be rising. Shall we go in and warm ourselves, yes, I could do with something to warm me, replied Nikita, who was desperately cold, and only too eager to thaw his frozen limbs before a stove. Vasily, thereupon, entered the hut with the old man, while Nikita drove the sledge through the yard gates duly open for him by Petrushka. Under the latter's guidance, he then led the cob under the roof of a shed.  Nikita had a word for them all. He begged the hens pardon that he would not disturb them further. Chided the sheep for their unreasoning nervousness, and never ceased to make overtures to the dog as he tied up his steed. We shall be all right now, he said, as he beat the snow from his clothes. Hush, then, how he growls, he added to the dog. It's all right now.  Be quiet. You are only disturbing yourself for nothing. We are not all our three domestic counselors, remarked Petrushka, as he drew the sledge under the shed with his powerful hands. Why, counselors, asked Nikita.  Wake up!  So let us be ready to receive him. Petrushka, it seemed, was of a literary turn, and knew by heart the only book which he possessed, some book or other by Paulson. He was particularly fond of it, when he had had a little to drink, as now, and would quote such extracts from it as might seem to him to fit the occasion. That is just right, observed Nikita. Yes, isn't it, answered Nikita? But you are simply frozen. Shall I take you into tea now, my boy? Yes, by all means, replied Nikita, and they crossed the yard to the hut door. This ends Section 3. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Brooks Jensen, Anacortis, Washington. Master and Man by Leo Tolstoy Section 4. The homestead where Vasily had pulled up was one of the richest in the village, for the family held no less than five lots of land, as well as rented some while in the stables stood six horses, three cows, two draft bullocks, and a twenty sheep. In all, there lived around the courtyard of the homestead twenty-two souls, namely four married sons, six grandchildren, of whom one, Petrushka, was married, two great-grandchildren, three orphans, and four daughters-in-law with their children. In addition to these, there were two sons employed as water carriers in Moscow, while a third was in the army. At the present moment there were at home only the old man, his wife, the second of the married sons, the elder of the two sons who worked at Moscow come over for the festival, and the various wives and children, and a neighboring gossip. It was one of those rare households which are still to be found undivided, yet one in which there were already at work those deep-rooted and internal dissensions which originate among the women of a family, and which would break up this family also in time. Over the table in the hut there hung a shaded lamp, throwing a clear light upon the crockery below, upon a bottle of vodka, and upon sundry vions, as well as over the clay walls of the room. In one corner, the corner beautiful, there hung some icons with pictures on either side of them. In the place at the table sat Vasily, stripped now to his black under jacket, and chewing his frozen mustache as he gazed round the hut and at those about him with his prominent hawk-like eyes. Next to him sat the bald, white-bearded head of the family dressed in a white shirt of home-manufacturer, while further on with a son who had come over from Moscow for the festival, straight-backed, square-shouldered, and wearing father's but a finer material. A second square-shouldered son, the eldest of those living at home, and lastly the neighbor, a red-haired lanky moujik. These moujiks had had their supper in vodka and were just about to drink tea when the travelers arrived. Consequently the samovar on the floor by the stove was already boiling. Near the stove also and in the shelf-bunks could be seen various children while the old woman, her face covered in every direction with fine wrinkles furrowing even her lips, bustled about behind Vasily. As Nikita entered the hut, she was just taking her guests some vodka which she had poured out into a tumbler of thick glass. You must not refuse it, Vasily Andrej, she said. No, you really must not. You need something to refresh me. Drink it down, my dear sir. Nikita found himself greatly excited by the smell of the vodka, especially now that he was so cold and hungry. He knit his brows and shaking the snow from his hat and halat, halted for a moment before the icons with his eyes turned away from the company. He crossed himself three times and made a genuflection after which he turned first to his host and saluted him, then to present at the table, and then to the woman standing by the stove. Finally, with a general greeting of a merry festival to you all, he started to take off his halat though still without looking at the table. But you were frozen all over, my brother, cried the eldest brother as he stared at Nikita's snow-caped eyes, beard, and face. For answer, Nikita divested himself of his halat, looking over the stove, after which he at length approached the table. Offered vodka, he had almost taken the glass and tilted the fragrant, shining liquor into his mouth when he glanced at Vasily and remembered the pond boots as well as the cooper and the young son for whom he had promised to buy a horse in the spring. So he ended by declining the vodka with a sigh. I would rather not drink it, I admitted, brows, and seated himself on a bench by the window. But why, asked the eldest brother. Because I would rather not, I would rather not, Nikita replied without raising his eyes as he squinted down at his short beard and mustache and thawed the icicles out of them. It does not suit him, put in Vasily, smacking his lips over a cracknel washed down at the kindly old woman. I will get you some tea, for you must be frozen. Why are you so long at the Samovar, my good woman? It is quite ready, retorted one of the younger ones as she wiped the covered Samovar with a napkin. Then, raising it with some difficulty, she came and plumped it down on the table. Meanwhile, Vasily had been relating how he and his companion had missed their way, wandered about, fallen drunken moujiks, and twice returned to the village. His hosts marveled at the story, and then went on to explain how and where they had gone wrong, who the drunken moujiks had been, and the route which Vasily and Nikita must take when they set off again. Why, even a child could find the way as far as Mulk Genovka, said the neighbor, and once there you will only have to hit the turning near of Mulkka so far. But hadn't you better stay the night here, put in the old woman persuasively? The women shall get you a bed ready. Yes, do so, for if you were to get lost again it might be a terrible business, added her husband. No, no, really, I cannot, my good friend, replied Vasily. Business is business. Delay an hour and you lose a year, he added, remembering the timber and shall we go now, this last to Nikita. Nikita returned no answer for a moment, and seemed absorbed in the task of thawing out his beard and mustache. At length he muttered gruffly, it would hardly do to get lost again, would it? As a matter of fact he was gruff because he wanted the vodka so badly, and the only thing which would assuage that yearning of his life had been offered. But we need only to reach that turning, protested Vasily, and we simply can't lose our way afterwards. From there onwards it will be all forest road. Well, it is for you to say Vasily Andrej, said Nikita, as he took a tumbler of the tea now proffered him. If we must go, we must, that's all. Drink up the tea then, and quick march. Nikita said no more, although he didn't drink the tea, but poured the tea out carefully into the saucer and began to warm his work-swollen fingers in the steam.  If only we had someone to guide us to the turning side, Vasily. That could be managed, said as far as that. Harness up, then, brother, and my best thanks to you, exclaimed Vasily. And to you also, good sir, said the hospitable old woman, we have been only too pleased to see you. Patruska, off you go and harness the mare, ordered the eldest brother. Very well replied Patruska smilingly as he seized his cap from a peg and departed. Whilst the horses were being not ready, the conversation passed to the subject which had been interrupted when Vasily drove up to the window. It seemed that the old man had been complaining to the neighbor, who was also the local starosta, about his third son who had sent him no gift for the festival, but had given his wife a French shawl. Here the translator inserts a footnote that a starosta is the village getting out of hand nowadays, said the old man. Indeed they are, agreed the neighbor. There is no living with them. They are growing much too clever. Look at Damachkin, who broke his father's arm the other day, all through his being too clever, of course. Nikita kept listening and looking from one to the other of the speaker's faces, with an evident desire to join in and therefore merely nod at his head approvingly at intervals. He had drunk tumbler after tumbler of tea, until he had grown warmer and warmer and more and more good-humored. The conversation lasted for quite a long time on this subject, on the evil of dividing up families, and proved too absorbing to be successfully diverted, so that in time it passed to the dissensions in this particular situation which the second son, who had been sitting by meanwhile and maintaining a sullen silence, was demanding. Evidently it was a moot point, and the question above all others, which was exercising the household, yet politeness had hitherto prevented the family from discussing such a private affair before strangers. At length, however, the old man could not forbear, and with so long as he lived he would never permit the separation, that he maintained his household to the glory of God, and that once it were divided it would become scattered all over the world. Yes, that is what happened to the Matviyafs, observed the neighbor. They were a comfortable household ones, but separated, and now not a single one of them has anything left. That is what you desire for his son. The son returned no answer, and an awkward silence ensued until interrupted by Patruska, who had duly harnessed his horse, and been back in the hut for some minutes past, smiling the whole time. It reminds me of a fable in Paulson, he said. A father gave his son a broom to tear across. None of them could tear it, but twig by twig, well, that was easy for him. So also it will be in our case, he added with a broad smile. But I am quite ready to start now. Then if you are ready, let us be off, said Vesely. About that separation, good grandfather, do not give in. It is you who have made the household, and therefore it should be you who are a master of it. If necessary, refer the matter to the Mirovoi. He would settle down here, insert another footnote that a Mirovoi is the local magistrate. But to behave like this, to behave like this, cried the old man with unrestrained grief, there is no living with him, it is the devils doing entirely. Meanwhile Nikita, his fifth tumbler of tea swallowed, had placed the empty glass by his side instead of returning it in the hope that he would be alive. But there was no more water left in the samovar, and so the hostess brewed no more tea, while Vesely was already putting his fur coat on. Accordingly, there being nothing else for it, Nikita Rose replaced his lump of sugar which he had nibbled on every side in the sugar basin, wiped his perspiring face with the lap of his jacket, and went to put on his halat. This done, he then thanked and took leave of his hosts, and left the warm bright living room for the cold dark porch, which was rattling with the wind which hurtled through it, and which had drifted the snow through the chinks of the quaking outer door until it lay in heaps upon the floor. Thence he passed into the dark courtyard. Patruska, clad in a sheepskin jacket, was standing by his horse in the middle of the courtyard, quoting some verses from Paulson. The lowering tempest hides the sky, the whirlwind brings the driving snow, now like a wild beast it doth cry, now like a child it whimpers low. Nikita nodded his head approvingly, and unhooked the reins while the old man brought a lantern into the porch to guide Vesely to the sledge. He tried to light him with a lamp out in a twinkling. Even in the yard it was easy to tell that the storm was worse than ever. What fearful weather thought Vesely to himself. Perhaps we shall never get there. However, there is business to be thought of. Besides, I have got myself ready now, and my host's horse has been put in. God send we get there, though. The old man likewise was going to be better for them not to set out, but he had already tried to dissuade them, and they had not listened to him. It would be no use asking them again. Perhaps, too, it is only old age which makes me so nervous, and they will arrive safely, he thought. Let us ourselves, at least, go to bed in the meanwhile, enough of talking for tonight. He knew the road and the whole neighborhood too well for that. Moreover, he had been greatly put upon his metal by the couplet about the whirlwind and the snow which seemed to him to describe with extraordinary exactness what was to be seen in the yard. As for Nikita, he had no wish to go at all, but he had been too long accustomed not to have his own way and to serve others. There was no one to prevent them from setting out. This ends the fourth section. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Brooks Jensen Anacortis, Washington. Master and Man by Leo Tolstoy Section 5 Vasily walked through the porch, peered about in the darkness till he discerned where the sledge was, took the reins, and climbed in. All right in front he cried. Patruska, kneeling in his own sledge, started his horse and brownie with a loud nae as he scented the mare in front of him, dashed away after her. They issued thus into the courtyard, passed the outskirts and took the same road as before. The road which ran past the yard with the frozen linen, although the linen was quite invisible now, passed the barn heaped with snow and from the gables of which a cloud of snow dust kept blowing, and passed the bending vines with their mysterious murmurings and pipings. Then once more the travelers were launched upon a sea of snow which raged both above them. The wind was so strong that when it was upon their flank and their wrappings filled before it, it actually careened the sledge to one side and threw the cob out of his stride. Patruska kept shouting encouragement as he drove his stout mare ahead of them while the cob followed her closely. After about ten minutes driving Patruska turned aside and shouted something, but neither Vasily nor Nikita could tell what he said for the sound of the wind. They guessed, however, that they had reached the turning. Sure enough, Patruska had wheeled to the right, and the wind which had hitherto been chiefly on their flank now met them full in the face, whilst something could be seen showing black through the snow on their right hand. It was the cops which marked the turning.  Thank you, thank you, Patruska. The lowering tempest hides the sky, shouted the lad once more and vanished. Goodness, what a poetry spouter remarked Vasily as he started the cob again. Yes, he is a fine young fellow, a real honest mougique, returned Nikita and they went on. In order not to squander the warmth engendered by the tea which he had drunk in the hut, Nikita wrapped himself up well, hunched his shoulders until his short beard covered his throat, and sat perfectly silent. In front of him he could see the two dark lines of the shafts, forever cheating his eye and looking to him like the ruts of a beaten road. The cobs tossing flank and knotted, wind-blown tail and further ahead the animals lofty dugah, knotting head and neck and disheveled mane. In intervals posts would leap into sight and he would know that the sledge was still keeping the road and that there was nothing for him to do. Vasily held the reins loosely, leaving it to the cob to guide himself. Nevertheless, although Brownie had had a long rest in the village, he went unwillingly and as though he would like to turn aside at any moment, so that Vasily frequently had to straighten him again. There goes a post on the right. Two, three counted Vasily, and there is the forest in front, and he went on to himself as he gazed at something showing dark ahead of them. However, what had seemed to him a forest proved to be only a bush. This they passed and had covered another fifty yards or so, when behold, there was neither forest nor a fourth post to be seen. Never mind, we shall be at the forest in a moment, thought Vasily, as, excited by the vodka and tea, he jerked the reins again instead of pulling up. The willing, docile animal obeyed, and, now in an amble and now in a moderate trot, went whether he was driven, although he knew it was in the wrong direction. Another ten minutes passed and still there was no forest. We have missed the road again, exclaimed Vasily at last, pulling up. Without speaking, Nikita descended from the sledge, and after tucking up his halat, which sometimes clung to him and sometimes flapped up and down, according to the strength of the gusts of wind, began to flounder about over the snow. First he tried the one side and then the other, and thrice vanished altogether. At last, however, he returned and took the reins from Vasily's hands. We must go towards the right, he said brusquely and decisively, as he turned the cob in that direction. Very well, if to the right, to the right, agreed Vasily, as he surrendered the reins and thrust his numbed hands up his sleeves. Nikita said nothing more beyond crying, now do your best, my pet, to the cob. Nevertheless, the animal moved forward only twice, in spite of all Nikita's shaking of the reins. The snow was knee-deep in places, and the sledge moved through it in jerks with each stride of the animal. Presently, Nikita took up the whip, which had been hanging over the splash-board, and used it once, whereupon the good cob, unused to its lash, plunged forward and broke into a trot. Only, however, to subside again into an alternate flank. They proceeded thus for about five minutes. It was so dark, and there was such a swirl of snow both around them and on the ground, that it was scarcely possible for them to even see the cob's dugout. Sometimes, indeed, it was almost as though the sledge were standing still and the ground gliding backwards from it. Suddenly the cob stopped short, as though he had been hanging in front of him. Nikita threw down the reins and leapt lightly out in order to go to the cob's head and see what he was jibbing at. But hardly had he taken a single stride ahead of the animal when his leg shot up and he rolled down some steep declivity. Whooo! Whooo! He kept exclaiming all the time he was descending and trying in vain to stop Nikita's ploughed their way into a deep snowdrift at the bottom while, shaken by his struggles, the drift overhanging the bank above him descended upon his head and crammed a large portion of its mass down the back of his neck.  Nikita went out from Vasily above, but Nikita sent no answering call. He was too busy for that, for he was employing all his energies in shaking himself and searching for the whip which had rolled away somewhere while he was shooting down the declivity. Having found it at last he tried to re-ascend at the spot where he had come down but found it impossible to do and finally he was forced to proceed along the bottom to find a way out. Nevertheless, only a few yards from the point where he had descended he found a place where he managed to creep up on all fours after which he began to walk along the edge towards the spot where he judged the cob to be. Both cob and sledge were wholly invisible, but in as much as he was walking against the chimney some moments before he actually caught sight of them. I am coming! I am coming! he exclaimed. Why make such a fuss about it? It was not until he was almost upon the sledge that he was able to distinguish the cob with Vasily standing beside it, the latter looming very large in the obscurity.  We must turn back and at least try to return to Grishkino. I should be only too glad retorted Nikita, but which way are we to go? If we fall into this ravine we might never get out of it again. I myself have just found it pretty hard to do so. Yet we cannot stay here, can we? We must go somewhere retorted Vasily. Nikita said nothing, but sat down on the rim of the sledge, pulled off his boots, and shook out the snow which had collected in them. That done he gathered up a handful of straw and carefully plugged a hole in the left one. Vasily also said nothing as though he meant now to leave everything to Nikita. When the latter had finished pulling on his boots again, he tucked his legs into the sledge, put on his mittens, took up the reins, and turned back. They had not gone more than a hundred yards, however, before the animal pulled up short. In front of them lay the ravine again. Once more Nikita got out and went probing about over the snow. He was absent for some time, but at length reappeared on the opposite side of the sled to that which he had started from. Are you there, Andreiich? he shouted. No. There is no getting out this way. It is too dark and there are too many ravines about. We must try driving back against the wind. After doing so for a little while they stopped and Nikita once more alighted and went creeping about over the snow. Then he remounted, but only to alight again almost immediately, until at length he came to a halt by the sledge in a perfectly breathless position. Well what, inquired Vasily? Only then I am fairly done and the cob nearly so too. What are we to do then? Wait a minute. Nikita departed again, but returned in a moment or two. Keep close behind me, he cried as he walked on before the cob. Vasily had now ceased to give orders, but humbly obeyed Nikita's directions. This way after me cried the latter again as he turned sharply to the right and taking brownie by the head led him downwards towards the snowdrift. The cob held back at first and then made a plunge forward as though to leap the snowdrift. Failing in the attempt he sank in up to the collar. Get out of the sledge, cried Nikita to Vasily who had retained his seat meanwhile. Then grasping one of the shafts, he exerted all his strength to help the cob drag the sledge out of the drift. Pulled my pet, he cried to brownie, one good pull and the thing is done, now, now, just one good pull. The cob made a brave effort and yet another, but failing to extricate himself settled down as though to reflect upon the situation. Come, come my pet, this won't do, Nikita, now then, once again, and he tugged at the shaft on his side while Vasily tugged at the other. The cob shook his head for a moment and then plunged forward suddenly in another attempt. That's it, you're not going to be buried this time, eh? cried Nikita, encouragingly. Another plunge, a second, a third, and the cob had cleared the drift and stopped short, shaking himself all over and breathing heavily. Nikita was for dragging the sledge a little further yet, but Vasily was so exhausted with the weight of his two heavy coats that he gave up and climbed in again. Let me rest a minute, he said, as he loosened the handkerchief which he had wound round his coat-collar before leaving the village. Very well, there is no great hurry, returned Nikita, sit still and I will lead the cob. Accordingly, Vasily remained in the sledge while Nikita led the animal forward for about ten yards, down a slope, and then up again a little way, and finally came to a halt. The spot where he had done so was not actually in the ravine itself, where the snow blowing off the hillocks and accumulating might have buried them entirely, but in a spot partly sheltered by the lee side of the ravine. Occasionally the wind seemed to drop a little but it was not for long. Whilst as if to make up for such laws the blizzard would increase tenfold after they were over and tear and swirl around the travelers more cruelly than ever. One of these violent gusts struck the sledge just as Vasily was descending from it to go take counsel with Nikita as to what they should do next with the result that they could only speak until the fury of the squall was spent. As for Brownie he flattened his ears and shook his head in disgust. When the squall had abated a little, Nikita took off his mittens, tucked them into his belt, blew upon his hands and set to work to unfasten the bow-rain from the dugah. Why are you doing that as Vasily? Because there is nothing else to be done by Nikita, though half apologetically. I am absolutely tired out now. Then aren't we going to try and get any further? No, for we are only exhausting the cob for nothing, said Nikita, pointing to the animal where it stood patiently waiting for what might be required of it, yet scarcely able to hold itself upright on its stout sweat-belathered flanks. Brownie is willing enough but he can hardly stand on his legs. There is nothing for it but to spend the night here. Nikita said this as if he were proposing to put up in an in-yard and went on unfastening the collar throng until the two clasps of the collar fell apart. But we shall freeze to death here, cried Vasily. Well, what if we do? It cannot be helped. Was all that Nikita vouchsafed to reply? This ends Section 5. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Brooks Jensen, Anacortis, Washington. Master and Man by Leo Tolstoy Section 6. Vasily was warm enough in his two heavy coats, especially after his exertions in the snowdrift. Yet for all that the frost seemed to breathe down his back when he understood that they had to spend the night there. To calm his apprehensions he sat down in the sledge and pulled out his matches and cigarettes. Meanwhile Nikita went to the pub. He undid the belly band and saddle-piece, ran the reins out, unfastened the traces and took off the dugah talking cheerily to the animal the while. Out you come, out you come he said as he led it out of the shafts.  Take it away and you will feel all the better for it. Nevertheless Brownie did not seem to grow easier under Nikita's touch but kept fidgeting about as he stood tail onwards to the wind. Every moment he would shift his legs, press up to the sledge and rub his head against Nikita's sleeve. However, as if unwilling to seem churlish about the meal he didn't get any occasional straw from the sledge but appeared at once to come to the conclusion that straw did not meet the case and threw it down again where upon the wind caught it in a twinkling whirled it away and buried it in the snow. Suppose we make a signal of distress said Nikita presently. He turned the sledge a little towards the wind tied the shafts together with the belly band, turned them up now if anyone passes this way they will be able to see us by the shafts and come and dig us out. I learnt this trick from the old people and he clapped his mittens together and put them on. Meanwhile Vasily had unhooked his fur coat and made a shelter of its skirts. Then he struck match after match against the steel matchbox but his hands were shaking so violently with the cold that each successive match either failed to light at all or was blown out by the wind as he was in the act of lifting it to his cigarette. At length a match did flare up properly, illuminating for a brief second the pelt of his fur coat, his hand with his gold ring on its curved index finger and the snow-covered straw which projected from under the sacking. The cigarette lighted. He drew a couple of greedy whiffs, filled the smoke, and puffed it out again through his mustache. Then he was about to take a third whiff when the wind caught the lighted end of the cigarette and carried it away to join the wisps of straw. Nevertheless, even these bigger mouthfuls of smoke had exercised a cheering effect upon him. If we must spend the night here, well, we must, that's all he said undauntedly. Wait a minute and I will rig up a flag. Picking up the handkerchief which he had unwound from his neck and thrown down upon the floor of the sledge, he took off his mittens, climbed on to the splash-board, stretched himself up on tiptoe to reach the belly band, and tied the handkerchief round one end of it and of the shaft in a stout knot. The handkerchief at once began to wave wildly, now clinging to the shaft, now suddenly filling out again and straining at the knot as its folds cracked in the wind. Is that not clever of me, said Vasily as he stepped down again, much pleased with his handiwork. Now, if we could lie together, that would be the warmest way, but I'm afraid there isn't room for both of us. Never mind. I will find a place for myself," answered Nikita. Only I must cover the cob over first, for he has been sweating a lot and is tired out. Wait a minute, and diving into the sledge, he dragged the sacking from under Vasily. Possessed of this, he folded it double and, removing the saddle piece and crouper from Brownie's back, covered him over. You will be warmer like this little fool, he said, as he replaced the saddle piece and crouper. And now, he said to Vasily, I will take the apron if you don't want it tonight. Give me some straw, too, and one thing and another from beneath Vasily, he went to the back of the sledge, dug a hole in the snow there and lined it with the straw. Then he pulled his cap over his eyes, wrapped his halate about him with the apron over all and squatted down upon the straw with his back resting against the barked tailboard of the sledge that it might protect him from the wind and snow. Vasily shook his head in disapproval of Nikita's proceedings. On the contrary, to his habit to encourage the peasantry in their rude uncouth ways, and then said about making his own preparations for the night. First of all, he smoothed out what straw was left in the sledge, padding it a little thicker where his thigh bone was to rest. Then he pulled on his mittens and laid down with his head in one of the corners near the splashboard that the latter might protect him from the wind. But lay thinking. He thought chiefly of the one thing which constituted his whole pride, ideal, aim and joy in life, namely the making of money and yet more money. He thought of the means by which certain acquaintances of his had made their money, how they were using it and the means by which he, like they, might make a great deal more than he already possessed. The purchase of the Zviachkinsky forest seemed to him a matter of vast importance, since out of this forest he hoped to make at one stroke a sum, possibly, of ten thousand rubles. He mentally reckoned up the value of the timber which he had viewed in the autumn, and on the basis of the two desiatins he had then inspected went on to calculate the whole. Here the translator inserts a footnote that a desiatin is two and four-fifths acres. The oak wood will do for sledge-runners if cut up and for beams as they stand, he said to himself. And after they are felled there should be left about thirty sages of firewood to the desiatin. Here the translator inserts another footnote that a sages is about seven English feet. Thus calculating he could see that the total value of the forest worked out to about twelve thousand rubles, but could not reckon to an exact figure in the absence of tables. All the same he went on, I am not going to give even so much as ten thousand for it, only eight thousand, and that subject to deductions for open spaces. I will grease the surveyor's palm with a hundred rubles, or perhaps a hundred and fifty, and he will measure me off the clearings at at least five desiatins. Yes, the owner will be glad to let the forest go at eight thousand rubles. I have three thousand ready for him here, thought Vasily as he felt for his pocketbook with the inside of his forearm, and that should melt him. How on earth we came to miss that turning God only knows. There must be a forest and a forest keeper somewhere about there. His dog ought to have heard us. The cursed brutes never bark when they're wanted to. They crack his coat collar from his ear and listened. Nothing was to be heard but the whistling of the wind, the rustling and cracking of the handkerchief on the shafts, and the swish of the snow as it lashed the bark sides of the sledge. He covered his ear over again. If only I had known that we should have to spend the night here, he thought. Well, we shall get there tomorrow all the same. It will only mean one day lost. Other fellows wouldn't come either, not in such weather. Suddenly he remembered that on the ninth of the month he was to be paid some money for weathers by the butcher. I ought to be back by then to receive it. He couldn't take me in over the price whereas my wife doesn't in the least know how to bargain. In fact, she doesn't understand how to talk to anyone, he went on as he remembered her failure to make conversation to the stana voy, or their guests of yesterday for the festival. Here the translator inserts a footnote that a stana voy is the local magistrate. She is a woman that is the long and the short of it. Moreover, what had she ever seen before I married her? Her father was only a well-to-do mougique, a shabby little farm, that was all his property.  He swelled with pride. Rather different to her father, I think. In fact, who is the chief man of the district today? Why, Vasily Brukanov, of course.  I don't sleep whole nights away. No. Blizzard or no blizzard. Out I go, if necessary, and my business gets done.  But never mind, Vasily, go on working hard, even if it makes your headache. If necessary, spend a night in the open like this rather than lose time. Never mind if you cannot sleep either. To think such thoughts is a pillow in itself, he concluded proudly. Some people seem to think that riches come to one by chance. Poo! There is only one Mironov in a million. No, work hard, and God will give you the rest. If only he give you health and strength, that alone should be sufficient. And the mere thought that he might one day become such a millionaire as Mironov who had risen from nothing so fired Vasily with ecstasy that he yearned to have someone to speak to. Yet there was no one. Ah, but once he could win to Goviachkina he would have a landowner to speak to, and a bamboozle as well. Good heavens how it blows, he continued, as he listened to a squall of wind which was beating against the splashboard and bending it inwards as it lashed the bark planking with snow. It is drifting the snow so much that perhaps we shall never get out in the morning. Nothing could be seen in the white swirl of obscurity but brownie's dark head and tail and the sack covering his back. At intervals the wind would toss the corners of the sackle off, while in front and behind and on the other side of the sledge whirled the same uniform mass of whiteness, now lightening a little, now suddenly becoming denser. I was a fool to have ever listened to Nikita, he thought. We ought to have gone on again and we should have landed somewhere. We might have reached Grishkino again and been able to put up at Tarrasa's place after all. Yet here we have to stick all night. What is the good of that? God gives to those who help themselves but not to loafers, sluggards and fools. I must try smoking again. He sat up, got out a cigarette and then rolled over on his stomach to shield the flame of the match from the wind with the flap of his coat. Yet the wind found an entry somehow and blew out the matches one by one. At length he contrived to keep one alight and started smoking. He felt greatly pleased with his success and although the wind got more of the smoke than he did he managed to draw three whiffs and was much cheered by them. He rolled himself back into a sitting posture, wrapped himself up again and started once more to think over and consider matters, until suddenly and without warning he lost consciousness and went off into a doze. All at once something seemed to jostle him and he awoke. It might have been brownie pulling away straw from beneath him or it might have been the result of some internal disturbance and his heart beating so fast and so furiously that the very sledge seemed to be shaking under him. He opened his eyes. The scene around him appeared exactly the same except that it seemed lighter. It must be dawn he thought to himself. It will soon be morning now. Then all at once he remembered that the fact of its getting lighter could only mean that the moon was rising. He raised himself again Brownie was standing with his hind quarters to the wind and shaking all over. The snow-heaped sacking was turned up over his back on the windward side and the crooper was slipping down over his flank while his snow-powdered head and wind-tossed mane and forehead tuft were more clearly visible than before. As for Nikita he was still squatting in the same position as when he had first sat down with his feet and the apron covered his head all piled with snow. A mougique never freezes thought Vasily as he bent over the back of the sledge and looked at him. No, not for all his poor clothes. He can be trusted for that.  For a moment he thought of taking the sacking off the cob's back and covering Nikita over with it but it was too cold to get up and make the effort. Moreover, he was afraid of the cob starving if he did. What on earth did I take Nikita for? he reflected. I have her stupidity to thank for it all, he was thinking of his wife. Then he rolled back into his former position by the splash-board. My uncle spent a night in the snow like this, he went on, yet he took no harm. Sebastian too once had to be dug and he continued as another instance occurred to him. Sebastian died, though, for he was frozen stiff as a carcass. If only we had stayed at Grishkino. Wrapping his coat more carefully about him so that the protection of the fur should not be wasted at any point but keep him warm from head to heels, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep again. Yet for all his efforts he could not succeed. He continued absolutely alert and wakeful. Once more he began to make business calculations and to run over his outstanding debts. Once more too he began to appraise himself and to congratulate himself on his position in the world. Nonetheless his every thought seemed to be broken in upon by a sort of haunting fear as well as by a feeling of vexation that had not stayed at Grishkino. To think of it, he murmured, why at this moment I might have been lying in a warm bed. More than once he turned himself over and resettled himself in a vain endeavour to find an easier position and one more protected from the wind, but each new posture proved more uncomfortable than the last. At length he raised himself and all together, wrapped his legs up carefully, closed his eyes, and tried to lie perfectly still. Yet either his feet, squeezed into their stiff top boots, had begun to ache, or the wind was catching him somewhere, but at all events he had not been lying long in this position before he found himself angrily remembering that at this very moment he might have been lying and he raised himself, again he wrapped his coat about him and resettled himself. Once he thought he heard the far off sound of cocks growing whereupon he turned down the collar of his coat in a tremor of joy and listened attentively. Yet for all his straining of his ears he could hear nothing but the whistling of the wind through the shafts, the flapping of the handkerchief, and the wind. As for Nikita he remained squatting as he had done since the previous evening. Never once had he stirred, nor returned any answer to Vasily's shouts, although the latter had called him more than once. He seems to have no difficulty in sleeping, thought Vasily with irritation as he lent over the back of the sledge and looked at the snow-covered Nikita. In all, Vasily must sleep at least twenty times. It seemed to him as if the night would never end. Surely it must be morning now he thought once as he raised himself and glanced about him. How would it be to look at my watch? But no, I might get frozen if I unhooked my coat. Yet once I knew that it was drawing towards morning things would seem better and we would set about harnessing the cob. In the depths of his soul, Vasily knew quite well that it could not be near morning yet. The truth was that his nervous panic was increasing to such an extent that he wished both to verify his supposition and to deceive himself. In the end he finished by carefully unhooking his fur coat, thrusting his hand in and groping about till he dug down to his waistcoat. A further series of efforts were made by Vasily, who had been working on his watch with its enamel chasing of flowers. Then he tried to look at it, but nothing could be seen without a light. Once more he lay down upon his elbows and stomach as he had done when getting ready to smoke, pulled out his matches and set about striking one. By this time he had grown more expert at the business than thrusting the dial of the watch under the light. He looked at it and could hardly believe his eyes. It was only ten minutes past one. The whole night lay before him. Oh, the long, long night he groaned, feeling as though the frost were striking down his back already. Then, hooking up his coat again and wrapping it about him, he sat back in the corner of the sledge and prepared to wait for what patience he might. Suddenly, above the monotonous wail of the wind he heard a new sound, a sound made by some living creature. It grew steadily louder, attained its maximum and began to steadily die away again. There could be no doubt what it was. It was a wolf. Nor was the beast so far off that the wind could drown the gradations of tone in its small as it moved its jaws from side to side. Vasily put back his coat collar from his ear and listened strainedly. Brownie was doing the same. His ears sharply pricked and when the howl ceased he changed his legs and snorted uneasily. After this Vasily found it more than ever impossible to sleep, found it impossible to steady his nerves for a moment. The more he tried to think of his business affairs and accounts, his reputation, dignity and wealth the more did terror begin to master him. While above all other thoughts and yet mixed up with them floated the persistent question why did we not stop the night at Grishkino? God be with that landowner and his forest, he thought to himself, yet I wish I had neither of them. To have to spend the night here they say that men who have been drinking always freeze readily and I have been drinking to-night. Listening thus to his own suggestions he could feel himself beginning to tremble, though we hardly knew why, whether from cold that is to say or from fear. He tried to cover himself up and lie down as before impossible. He could not remain still even for a second, but felt as if he must be up and doing something to stifle the terror which was rising in him and against which he felt himself powerless. He got out his matches and cigarettes once more, but of the former there remained but three and they were of the sorriest kind.  He burst out though we hardly know what he was swearing at as he hurled the battered cigarette away. The matchbox was about to follow when he stayed his hand and thrust the box into his pocket.  Leaping from the sledge and standing with his hands to the wind he began lowering and tightening up his belt again. Why should we lie here waiting for death to come? he exclaimed as a new idea suddenly struck him. Why not mount the cob and ride away? With only a man on his back he would never stick fast. Then he thought of Nikita. Oh, but it would be nothing to him to die, he went on. What can life matter to him? I was with it whereas I have much to gain with mine. So he untied the cob, threw the halter over its neck and tried to mount. But his fur coat and boots weighed him down and he slipped back every time. Then he climbed onto the sledge and tried to mount from there but the sledge kept rocking under his weight and he failed again. At length and for the third he threw the cob close to the sledge, balanced himself cautiously on the rim and succeeded so far as to find himself stretched face down a thwart the animal's back. Lying thus he wriggled himself forward once or twice until he had got his leg over and seated himself, his toes resting in the trace loops of the saddle-piece. But the jolting of the sledge as it shook under Vasili's and now raised himself and seemed to Vasili to be saying something.