Chapter 8

THE SECOND CONFESSION

Suddenly the sound of the priest's footsteps roused me from this
reverie.

"Good morning to you," he said as he smoothed his grey hair with
his hand. "What can I do for you?"

I besought him to give me his blessing, and then kissed his
small, wizened hand with great fervour. After I had explained to
him my errand he said nothing, but moved away towards the ikons,
and began to read the exhortation: whereupon I overcame my shame,
and told him all that was in my heart. Finally he laid his hands
upon my head, and pronounced in his even, resonant voice the
words: "My son, may the blessing of Our Heavenly Father be upon
thee, and may He always preserve thee in faithfulness, loving-
kindness, and meekness. Amen."

I was entirely happy. Tears of joy coursed down my face as I
kissed the hem of his cassock and then raised my head again. The
face of the priest expressed perfect tranquillity. So keenly did
I feel the joy of reconciliation that, fearing in any way to
dispel it, I took hasty leave of him, and, without looking to one
side of me or the other (in order that my attention might not be
distracted), left the grounds and re-entered the rickety,
battered drozhki. Yet the joltings of the vehicle and the variety
of objects which flitted past my eyes soon dissipated that
feeling, and I became filled with nothing but the idea that the
priest must have thought me the finest-spirited young man he had
ever met, or ever would meet, in the whole of his life. Indeed, I
reflected, there could not be many such as myself--of that I felt
sure, and the conviction produced in me the kind of complacency
which craves for self-communication to another. I had a great
desire to unbosom myself to some one, and as there was no one
else to speak to, I addressed myself to the cabman.

"Was I very long gone? " I asked him.

" No, not very long," he replied. He seemed to have grown more
cheerful under the influence of the sunshine. "Yet now it is a
good while past my horse's feeding-time. You see, I am a night
cabman."

"Well, I only seemed to myself to be about a minute," I went on.
"Do you know what I went there for?" I added, changing my seat to
the well of the drozhki, so as to be nearer the driver.

"What business is it of mine? I drive a fare where he tells me to
go," he replied.

"Yes, but, all the same, what do you think I went there for?" I
persisted.

"I expect some one you know is going to be buried there, so you
went to see about a plot for the grave."

"No, no, my friend. Still, DO you know what I went there for?"