Two of the peasants who had killed Peter Nikolaevich Sventizky, had been sentenced to the gallows, and Mahorkin was ordered to go to Pensa to hang them.  On all previous occasions he used to write a petition to the governor of the province—­he knew well how to read and to write—­stating that he had been ordered to fulfil his duty, and asking for money for his expenses.  But now, to the greatest astonishment of the prison authorities, he said he did not intend to go, and added that he would not be a hangman any more.

“And what about being flogged?” cried the governor of the prison.

“I will have to bear it, as the law commands us not to kill.”

“Did you get that from Pelageushkine?  A nice sort of a prison prophet!  You just wait and see what this will cost you!”

When Mahin was told of that incident, he was greatly impressed by the fact of Stepan’s influence on the hangman, who refused to do his duty, running the risk of being hanged himself for insubordination.

VII

At an evening party at the Eropkins, Mahin, who was paying attentions to the two young daughters of the house—­they were rich matches, both of them—­having earned great applause for his fine singing and playing the piano, began telling the company about the strange convict who had converted the hangman.  Mahin told his story very accurately, as he had a very good memory, which was all the more retentive because of his total indifference to those with whom he had to deal.  He never paid the slightest attention to other people’s feelings, and was therefore better able to keep all they did or said in his memory.  He got interested in Stepan Pelageushkine, and, although he did not thoroughly understand him, yet asked himself involuntarily what was the matter with the man?  He could not find an answer, but feeling that there was certainly something remarkable going on in Stepan’s soul, he told the company at the Eropkins all about Stepan’s conversion of the hangman, and also about his strange behaviour in prison, his reading the Gospels and his great influence on the rest of the prisoners.  All this made a special impression on the younger daughter of the family, Lisa, a girl of eighteen, who was just recovering from the artificial life she had been living in a boarding-school; she felt as if she had emerged out of water, and was taking in the fresh air of true life with ecstasy.  She asked Mahin to tell her more about the man Pelageushkine, and to explain to her how such a great change had come over him.  Mahin told her what he knew from the police official about Stepan’s last murder, and also what he had heard from Pelageushkine himself—­how he had been conquered by the humility, mildness, and fearlessness of a kind woman, who had been his last victim, and how his eyes had been opened, while the reading of the Gospels had completed the change in him.