"Let him go, babushka," he said, "he will never do it again. Let him go,
for Christ's sake."
The old woman let him loose; the boy started to run, but Avdyeitch kept
him back.
"Ask the babushka's forgiveness," he said, "and don't you ever do it
again; I saw you take the apple."
The boy burst into tears, and began to ask forgiveness.
"There now! that's right; and here's an apple for you."
And Avdyeitch took an apple from the basket, and gave it to the boy.
"I will pay you for it, babushka," he said to the old woman.
"You ruin them that way, the good-for-nothings," said the old woman. "He
ought to be treated so that he would remember it for a whole week."
"Eh, babushka, babushka," said Avdyeitch, "that is right according to
our judgment, but not according to God's. If he is to be whipped for an
apple, then what ought to be done to us for our sins?"
The old woman was silent.
And Avdyeitch told her the parable of the master who forgave a debtor
all that he owed him, and how the debtor went and began to choke one who
owed him.
The old woman listened, and the boy stood listening.
"God has commanded us to forgive," said Avdyeitch, "else we, too, may
not be forgiven. All should be forgiven, and the thoughtless
especially."
The old woman shook her head, and sighed.
"That's so," said she; "but the trouble is that they are very much
spoiled."
"Then we who are older must teach them," said Avdyeitch.
"That's just what I say," remarked the old woman. "I myself have had
seven of them,--only one daughter is left."
And the old woman began to relate where and how she lived with her
daughter, and how many grandchildren she had. "Here," she says, "my
strength is only so-so, and yet I have to work. I pity the
youngsters--my grandchildren--but what nice children they are! No one
gives me such a welcome as they do. Aksintka won't go to anyone but me.
'Babushka, dear babushka, lovliest.'"
And the old woman grew quite sentimental.
"Of course, it is a childish trick. God be with him," said she, pointing
to the boy.
The woman was just about to lift the bag up on her shoulder, when the
boy ran up, and said:--
"Let me carry it, babushka; it is on my way."
The old woman nodded her head, and put the bag on the boy's back.
And side by side they passed along the street.
And the old woman even forgot to ask Avdyeitch to pay for the apple.
Avdyeitch stood motionless, and kept gazing after them; and he heard
them talking all the time as they walked away. After Avdyeitch saw them
disappear, he returned to his room; he found his eye-glasses on the
stairs,--they were not broken; he picked up his awl, and sat down to
work again.
After working a little while, it grew darker, so that he could not see
to sew; he saw the lamplighter passing by to light the street-lamps.
"It must be time to make a light," he said to himself; so he got his
little lamp ready, hung it up, and he took himself again to his work. He
had one boot already finished; he turned it around, looked at it: "Well
done." He put away his tools, swept off the cuttings, cleared off the
bristles and ends, took the lamp, set it on the table, and took down the
Gospels from the shelf. He intended to open the book at the very place
where he had yesterday put a piece of leather as a mark, but it happened
to open at another place; and the moment Avdyeitch opened the Testament,
he recollected his last night's dream. And as soon as he remembered it,
it seemed as if he heard someone stepping about behind him. Avdyeitch
looked around, and saw--there, in the dark corner, it seemed as if
people were standing; he was at a loss to know who they were. And a
voice whispered in his ear:--
"Martuin--ah, Martuin! did you not recognize me?"
"Who?" exclaimed Avdyeitch.
"Me," repeated the voice. "It was I;" and Stepanuitch stepped forth from
the dark corner; he smiled, and like a little cloud faded away, and soon
vanished.
"And it was I," said the voice.
From the dark corner stepped forth the woman with her child; the woman
smiled, the child laughed, and they also vanished,
"And it was I," continued the voice; both the old woman and the boy with
the apple stepped forward; both smiled and vanished.
Avdyeitch's soul rejoiced; he crossed himself, put on his spectacles,
and began to read the Evangelists where it happened to open. On the
upper part of the page he read:--
"_For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave
me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in._"