on the very edge of the bench. His arms were clasped together on his knees, his head had sunk down upon his breast; he did not open his eyes, and his face was all in folds and wrinkles, as if something was suffocating him, and then Simon spoke:
"Matrena! is there nothing of God within you?"
Matrena heard this sentence, looked again at the stranger, and suddenly her heart was moved. She left the door, went to the corner where the stove was and got some supper. She put a cup on the table, poured out some kvas,[1] brought forth their last morsel of bread. Then she put down a knife and two spoons.
"Will you taste of our bread?" said she.
Simon nudged the stranger.
"Come nearer, good youth!" said he.
Simon cut the bread, crumbled it, and fell to supping. But Matrena sat at the corner of the table, rested her head on her elbows, and regarded the stranger.
And Matrena felt sorry for the stranger, and began to like him. And suddenly the stranger grew more cheerful. He ceased to wrinkle his face, he raised his eyes towards Matrena, and smiled.
They finished supping; the old woman cleared away, and began to question the stranger:
"Whence do you come?"
"I am not of this place."
"Then how came you along this road?"
"I cannot say."
- ↑ A drink made of rye-meal and malt.
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