And what seemed terrible was that he had been murdered, and no one knew who had murdered him.  Yet he had been murdered.  He was led out like all the rest of the prisoners by Maslennikoff’s orders.  Maslennikoff had probably given the order in the usual manner, had signed with his stupid flourish the paper with the printed heading, and most certainly would not consider himself guilty.  Still less would the careful doctor who examined the convicts consider himself guilty.  He had performed his duty accurately, and had separated the weak.  How could he have foreseen this terrible heat, or the fact that they would start so late in the day and in such crowds?  The prison inspector?  But the inspector had only carried into execution the order that on a given day a certain number of exiles and convicts—­men and women—­had to be sent off.  The convoy officer could not be guilty either, for his business was to receive a certain number of persons in a certain place, and to deliver up the same number.  He conducted them in the usual manner, and could not foresee that two such strong men as those Nekhludoff saw would not be able to stand it and would die.  No one is guilty, and yet the men have been murdered by these people who are not guilty of their murder.

“All this comes,” Nekhludoff thought, “from the fact that all these people, governors, inspectors, police officers, and men, consider that there are circumstances in which human relations are not necessary between human beings.  All these men, Maslennikoff, and the inspector, and the convoy officer, if they were not governor, inspector, officer, would have considered twenty times before sending people in such heat in such a mass—­would have stopped twenty times on the way, and, seeing that a man was growing weak, gasping for breath, would have led him into the shade, would have given him water and let him rest, and if an accident had still occurred they would have expressed pity.  But they not only did not do it, but hindered others from doing it, because they considered not men and their duty towards them but only the office they themselves filled, and held what that office demanded of them to be above human relations.  That’s what it is,” Nekhludoff went on in his thoughts.  “If one acknowledges but for a single hour that anything can be more important than love for one’s fellowmen, even in some one exceptional case, any crime can be committed without a feeling of guilt.”

Nekhludoff was so engrossed by his thoughts that he did not notice how the weather changed.  The sun was covered over by a low-hanging, ragged cloud.  A compact, light grey cloud was rapidly coming from the west, and was already falling in heavy, driving rain on the fields and woods far in the distance.  Moisture, coming from the cloud, mixed with the air.  Now and then the cloud was rent by flashes of lightning, and peals of thunder mingled more and more often with the rattling of the train.  The cloud came nearer