blinded to such an extent, and what could have possessed him. Half an hour had not elapsed when his heart already ached, and he felt so much anxiety, that he could contain himself no longer, and accordingly strode off to the church. On reaching it, he saw that the people were already dispersing, but Dounia was neither within the enclosure nor yet at the porch. He hurriedly entered the church; the priest was emerging from behind the altar; the clerk was extinguishing the candles; two old women were still praying in a corner; but no Dounia was to be seen. The poor father could scarcely make up his mind to ask the clerk whether she had been at Mass. The clerk answered that she had not. The station-master returned home, neither dead nor alive. One hope remained. Dounia might possibly, young and thoughtless as she was, have taken it into her head to go on to the next station, where her godmother lived. He awaited in a desperate state of agitation the return of the troika which had carried them off. No driver returned. At last towards evening he appeared, but alone and tipsy, with the killing news that Dounia had gone off with the Hussar.
This disaster was too much for the old man; he immediately took to the bed where the young deceiver had lain but the day before. And he now conjectured, after pondering over all the late circumstances, that the illness had been feigned. The poor fellow was attacked by a serious fever; he was taken into the town of S * * *, and another station-master was temporarily appointed to replace him. The medical man who had seen the Hussar,
