XII

Vassily was actually carrying out the object he had in leaving the prison.  With the help of a few friends he broke into the house of the rich merchant Krasnopuzov, whom he knew to be a miser and a debauchee.  Vassily took out of his writing-desk thirty thousand roubles, and began disposing of them as he thought right.  He even gave up drink, so as not to spend that money on himself, but to distribute it to the poor; helping poor girls to get married; paying off people’s debts, and doing this all without ever revealing himself to those he helped; his only desire was to distribute his money in the right way.  As he also gave bribes to the police, he was left in peace for a long time.

His heart was singing for joy.  When at last he was arrested and put to trial, he confessed with pride that he had robbed the fat merchant.  “The money,” he said, “was lying idle in that fool’s desk, and he did not even know how much he had, whereas I have put it into circulation and helped a lot of good people.”

The counsel for the defence spoke with such good humour and kindness that the jury felt inclined to discharge Vassily, but sentenced him nevertheless to confinement in prison.  He thanked the jury, and assured them that he would find his way out of prison before long.

XIII

Natalia Ivanovna Sventizky’s telegram proved useless.  The committee appointed to deal with the petitions in the Emperor’s name, decided not even to make a report to the Czar.  But one day when the Sventizky case was discussed at the Emperor’s luncheon-table, the chairman of the committee, who was present, mentioned the telegram which had been received from Sventizky’s widow.

“C’est tres gentil de sa part,” said one of the ladies of the imperial family.

The Emperor sighed, shrugged his shoulders, adorned with epaulettes.  “The law,” he said; and raised his glass for the groom of the chamber to pour out some Moselle.

All those present pretended to admire the wisdom of the sovereign’s words.  There was no further question about the telegram.  The two peasants, the old man and the young boy, were hanged by a Tartar hangman from Kazan, a cruel convict and a murderer.

The old man’s wife wanted to dress the body of her husband in a white shirt, with white bands which serve as stockings, and new boots, but she was not allowed to do so.  The two men were buried together in the same pit outside the church-yard wall.

“Princess Sofia Vladimirovna tells me he is a very remarkable preacher,” remarked the old Empress, the Emperor’s mother, one day to her son:  “Faites le venir.  Il peut precher a la cathedrale.”

“No, it would be better in the palace church,” said the Emperor, and ordered the hermit Isidor to be invited.

All the generals, and other high officials, assembled in the church of the imperial palace; it was an event to hear the famous preacher.