“Tell him now,” he said.

“Little brother,” said Kwitoff, and he rose from beside the flame and stood erect, for he was tall, “will you give your life?”

“What for?” asked Serge.

The brothers shook their heads.

“We cannot tell you that,” they said.  “That would be too much.  Will you join us?”

“In what?” asked Serge.

“We must not say,” said the brothers.  “We can only ask are you willing to help our enterprise with all your power and with your life if need be?”

“What is your enterprise?” asked Serge.

“We must not divulge it,” they said.  “Only this:  will you give your life to save another life, to save Russia?”

Serge paused.  He thought of Olga Ileyitch.  Only to save her life would he have given his.

“I cannot,” he answered.

“Good night, little brother,” said Kwitoff gently, and he turned back to his work.

Thus the months passed.

Serge studied without ceasing.  “If there is truth,” he thought, “I shall find it.”  All the time he Thought of Olga Ileyitch.  His face grew pale.  “Justice, Justice,” he thought, “what is justice and truth?”

CHAPTER III

Now when Serge had been six months in the house of Madame Vasselitch, Ivan Ivanovitch, his father, sent Itch, the serving man, and Yump, the cook, his wife, to Moscow to see how Serge fared.  And Ivan first counted out rubles into a bag, “ten, and ten and still ten,” till Itch said, “It is enough.  I will carry that.”

Then they made ready to go.  Itch took a duck from the pond and put a fish in his pocket, together with a fragrant cheese and a bundle of sweet garlic.  And Yump took oil and dough and mixed it with tar and beat it with an iron bar so as to shape it into a pudding.

So they went forth on foot, walking till they came to Moscow.

“It is a large place,” said Itch, and he looked about him at the lights and the people.

“Defend us,” said Yump.  “It is no place for a woman.”

“Fear nothing,” said Itch, looking at her.

So they went on, looking for the house of Madame Vasselitch.

“How bright the lights are!” said Itch, and he stood still and looked about him.  Then he pointed at a burleski, or theatre.  “Let us go in there and rest,” he said.

“No,” said Yump, “let us hurry on.”

“You are tired,” said Itch.  “Give me the pudding and hurry forward, so that you may sleep.  I will come later, bringing the pudding and the fish.”

“I am not tired,” said Yump.

So they came at last to the house of Madame Vasselitch.  And when they saw Serge they said, “How tall he is and how well grown!” But they thought, “He is pale.  Ivan Ivanoviteh must know.”

And Itch said, “Here are the rubles sent by Ivan Ivanovitch.  Count them, little son, and see that they are right.”