Chapter 7 - Page 2

rivulets of water were coursing along, and it was through fast-
thawing mire that the horse went clip-clopping his way.
Alighting, and entering the monastery grounds, I inquired of the
first monk whom I met where I could find the priest whom I was
seeking.

"His cell is over there," replied the monk as he stopped a moment
and pointed towards a little building up to which a flight of
steps led.

"I respectfully thank you," I said, and then fell to wondering
what all the monks (who at that moment began to come filing out
of the church) must be thinking of me as they glanced in my
direction. I was neither a grown-up nor a child, while my face
was unwashed, my hair unbrushed, my clothes tumbled, and my boots
unblacked and muddy. To what class of persons were the brethren
assigning me--for they stared at me hard enough? Nevertheless I
proceeded in the direction which the young priest had pointed out
to me.

An old man with bushy grey eyebrows and a black cassock met me on
the narrow path to the cells, and asked me what I wanted. For a
brief moment I felt inclined to say "Nothing," and then run back
to the drozhki and drive away home; but, for all its beetling
brows, the face of the old man inspired confidence, and I merely
said that I wished to see the priest (whom I named).

"Very well, young sir; I will take you to him," said the old man
as he turned round. Clearly he had guessed my errand at a stroke.
"The father is at matins at this moment, but he will soon be
back," and, opening a door, the old man led me through a neat
hall and corridor, all lined with clean matting, to a cell.

"Please to wait here," he added, and then, with a kind,
reassuring glance, departed.

The little room in which I found myself was of the smallest
possible dimensions, but extremely neat and clean. Its furniture
only consisted of a small table (covered with a cloth, and placed
between two equally small casement-windows, in which stood two
pots of geraniums), a stand of ikons, with a lamp suspended in
front of them, a bench, and two chairs. In one corner hung a wall
clock, with little flowers painted on its dial, and brass weights
to its chains, while upon two nails driven into a screen (which,
fastened to the ceiling with whitewashed pegs, probably concealed
the bed) hung a couple of cassocks. The windows looked out upon a
whitewashed wall, about two arshins distant, and in the space
between them there grew a small lilac-bush.

Not a sound penetrated from without, and in the stillness the
measured, friendly stroke of the clock's pendulum seemed to beat
quite loudly. The instant that I found myself alone in this calm