“What for?” asked Aksionov.

“It was I who killed the merchant and hid the knife among your things.  I meant to kill you too, but I heard a noise outside, so I hid the knife in your bag and escaped out of the window.”

Aksionov was silent, and did not know what to say.  Makar Semyonich slid off the bed-shelf and knelt upon the ground.  “Ivan Dmitrich,” said he, “forgive me!  For the love of God, forgive me!  I will confess that it was I who killed the merchant, and you will be released and can go to your home.”

“It is easy for you to talk,” said Aksionov, “but I have suffered for you these twenty-six years.  Where could I go to now?...  My wife is dead, and my children have forgotten me.  I have nowhere to go...”

Makar Semyonich did not rise, but beat his head on the floor.  “Ivan Dmitrich, forgive me!” he cried.  “When they flogged me with the knot it was not so hard to bear as it is to see you now ... yet you had pity on me, and did not tell.  For Christ’s sake forgive me, wretch that I am!” And he began to sob.

When Aksionov heard him sobbing he, too, began to weep.  “God will forgive you!” said he.  “Maybe I am a hundred times worse than you.”  And at these words his heart grew light, and the longing for home left him.  He no longer had any desire to leave the prison, but only hoped for his last hour to come.

In spite of what Aksionov had said, Makar Semyonich confessed, his guilt.  But when the order for his release came, Aksionov was already dead.

HOW A MUZHIK FED TWO OFFICIALS

BY M.Y.  SALTYKOV [N.Shchedrin]

Once upon a time there were two Officials.  They were both empty-headed, and so they found themselves one day suddenly transported to an uninhabited isle, as if on a magic carpet.

They had passed their whole life in a Government Department, where records were kept; had been born there, bred there, grown old there, and consequently hadn’t the least understanding for anything outside of the Department; and the only words they knew were:  “With assurances of the highest esteem, I am your humble servant.”

But the Department was abolished, and as the services of the two Officials were no longer needed, they were given their freedom.  So the retired Officials migrated to Podyacheskaya Street in St. Petersburg.  Each had his own home, his own cook and his pension.

Waking up on the uninhabited isle, they found themselves lying under the same cover.  At first, of course, they couldn’t understand what had happened to them, and they spoke as if nothing extraordinary had taken place.

“What a peculiar dream I had last night, your Excellency,” said the one Official.  “It seemed to me as if I were on an uninhabited isle.”

Scarcely had he uttered the words, when he jumped to his feet.  The other Official also jumped up.

“Good Lord, what does this mean!  Where are we?” they cried out in astonishment.