“A bright spirit!  A hardy soul!  The best driver in St. Petersburg.  He has a team of three horses there....  Ah!  He’s a fellow!”

This man had declared himself willing to take out safely, at any time, one or two persons to the second or third railway station on one of the southern lines.  But there had been no time to warn him the night before.  His usual haunt seemed to be a low-class eating-house on the outskirts of the town.  When Haldin got there the man was not to be found.  He was not expected to turn up again till the evening.  Haldin wandered away restlessly.

He saw the gate of a woodyard open and went in to get out of the wind which swept the bleak broad thoroughfare.  The great rectangular piles of cut wood loaded with snow resembled the huts of a village.  At first the watchman who discovered him crouching amongst them talked in a friendly manner.  He was a dried-up old man wearing two ragged army coats one over the other; his wizened little face, tied up under the jaw and over the ears in a dirty red handkerchief, looked comical.  Presently he grew sulky, and then all at once without rhyme or reason began to shout furiously.

“Aren’t you ever going to clear out of this, you loafer?  We know all about factory hands of your sort.  A big, strong, young chap!  You aren’t even drunk.  What do you want here?  You don’t frighten us.  Take yourself and your ugly eyes away.”

Haldin stopped before the sitting Razumov.  His supple figure, with the white forehead above which the fair hair stood straight up, had an aspect of lofty daring.

“He did not like my eyes,” he said.  “And so...here I am.”

Razumov made an effort to speak calmly.

“But pardon me, Victor Victorovitch.  We know each other so little....  I don’t see why you....”

“Confidence,” said Haldin.

This word sealed Razumov’s lips as if a hand had been clapped on his mouth.  His brain seethed with arguments.

“And so—­here you are,” he muttered through his teeth.

The other did not detect the tone of anger.  Never suspected it.

“Yes.  And nobody knows I am here.  You are the last person that could be suspected—­should I get caught.  That’s an advantage, you see.  And then—­speaking to a superior mind like yours I can well say all the truth.  It occurred to me that you—­you have no one belonging to you—­no ties, no one to suffer for it if this came out by some means.  There have been enough ruined Russian homes as it is.  But I don’t see how my passage through your rooms can be ever known.  If I should be got hold of, I’ll know how to keep silent—­no matter what they may be pleased to do to me,” he added grimly.

He began to walk again while Razumov sat still appalled.

“You thought that—­” he faltered out almost sick with indignation.