A fortnight passed in this way.  Aksionov could not sleep at night, and was so miserable that he did not know what to do.

One night as he was walking about the prison he noticed some earth that came rolling out from under one of the shelves on which the prisoners slept.  He stopped to see what it was.  Suddenly Makar Semyonich crept out from under the shelf, and looked up at Aksionov with frightened face.  Aksionov tried to pass without looking at him, but Makar seized his hand and told him that he had dug a hole under the wall, getting rid of the earth by putting it into his high-boots, and emptying it out every day on the road when the prisoners were driven to their work.

“Just you keep quiet, old man, and you shall get out too.  If you blab, they’ll flog the life out of me, but I will kill you first.”

Aksionov trembled with anger as he looked at his enemy.  He drew his hand away, saying, “I have no wish to escape, and you have no need to kill me; you killed me long ago!  As to telling of you—­I may do so or not, as God shall direct.”

Next day, when the convicts were led out to work, the convoy soldiers noticed that one or other of the prisoners emptied some earth out of his boots.  The prison was searched and the tunnel found.  The Governor came and questioned all the prisoners to find out who had dug the hole.  They all denied any knowledge of it.  Those who knew would not betray Makar Semyonich, knowing he would be flogged almost to death.  At last the Governor turned to Aksionov whom he knew to be a just man, and said: 

“You are a truthful old man; tell me, before God, who dug the hole?”

Makar Semyonich stood as if he were quite unconcerned, looking at the Governor and not so much as glancing at Aksionov.  Aksionov’s lips and hands trembled, and for a long time he could not utter a word.  He thought, “Why should I screen him who ruined my life?  Let him pay for what I have suffered.  But if I tell, they will probably flog the life out of him, and maybe I suspect him wrongly.  And, after all, what good would it be to me?”

“Well, old man,” repeated the Governor, “tell me the truth:  who has been digging under the wall?”

Aksionov glanced at Makar Semyonich, and said, “I cannot say, your honour.  It is not God’s will that I should tell!  Do what you like with me; I am your hands.”

However much the Governor! tried, Aksionov would say no more, and so the matter had to be left.

That night, when Aksionov was lying on his bed and just beginning to doze, some one came quietly and sat down on his bed.  He peered through the darkness and recognised Makar.

“What more do you want of me?” asked Aksionov.  “Why have you come here?”

Makar Semyonich was silent.  So Aksionov sat up and said, “What do you want?  Go away, or I will call the guard!”

Makar Semyonich bent close over Aksionov, and whispered, “Ivan Dmitrich, forgive me!”