“We’ve been told not to go away from the body.”

“No one will see, brothers.  Upon my soul, no one will see!  The Lord will reward you a hundredfold!  Old man, come with me, I beg!  Old man!  Why are you silent?”

“He is a bit simple,” says the young man.

“You come with me, friend; I will give you five kopecks.”

“For five kopecks I might,” says the young man, scratching his head, “but I was told not to.  If Syoma here, our simpleton, will stay alone, I will take you.  Syoma, will you stay here alone?”

“I’ll stay,” the simpleton consents.

“Well, that’s all right, then.  Come along!” The young man gets up, and goes with the cassock.  A minute later the sound of their steps and their talk dies away.  Syoma shuts his eyes and gently dozes.  The fire begins to grow dim, and a big black shadow falls on the dead body.

A HAPPY ENDING

Lyubov Grigoryevna, a substantial, buxom lady of forty who undertook matchmaking and many other matters of which it is usual to speak only in whispers, had come to see Stytchkin, the head guard, on a day when he was off duty.  Stytchkin, somewhat embarrassed, but, as always, grave, practical, and severe, was walking up and down the room, smoking a cigar and saying: 

“Very pleased to make your acquaintance.  Semyon Ivanovitch recommended you on the ground that you may be able to assist me in a delicate and very important matter affecting the happiness of my life.  I have, Lyubov Grigoryevna, reached the age of fifty-two; that is a period of life at which very many have already grown-up children.  My position is a secure one.  Though my fortune is not large, yet I am in a position to support a beloved being and children at my side.  I may tell you between ourselves that apart from my salary I have also money in the bank which my manner of living has enabled me to save.  I am a practical and sober man, I lead a sensible and consistent life, so that I may hold myself up as an example to many.  But one thing I lack—­a domestic hearth of my own and a partner in life, and I live like a wandering Magyar, moving from place to place without any satisfaction.  I have no one with whom to take counsel, and when I am ill no one to give me water, and so on.  Apart from that, Lyubov Grigoryevna, a married man has always more weight in society than a bachelor. . . .  I am a man of the educated class, with money, but if you look at me from a point of view, what am I?  A man with no kith and kin, no better than some Polish priest.  And therefore I should be very desirous to be united in the bonds of Hymen—­that is, to enter into matrimony with some worthy person.”

“An excellent thing,” said the matchmaker, with a sigh.

“I am a solitary man and in this town I know no one.  Where can I go, and to whom can I apply, since all the people here are strangers to me?  That is why Semyon Ivanovitch advised me to address myself to a person who is a specialist in this line, and makes the arrangement of the happiness of others her profession.  And therefore I most earnestly beg you, Lyubov Grigoryevna, to assist me in ordering my future.  You know all the marriageable young ladies in the town, and it is easy for you to accommodate me.”