A dead body was lying on the bare bank, against which the water was
splashing lazily. When I came nearer, I recognized in it my old
acquaintance: the little wanderer was lying in his cassock, on his
stomach, with outstretched hands and with his head turned at an unnatural
angle. He was pale as death; his black hair had fallen over his forehead
and temples, and his mouth was half open. I involuntarily recalled that
face, as it was when it was filled with childish delight over the
singing of the little bird on the hilltop. With his long, sharp nose and
his open mouth,—he reminded me greatly of a tortured and stifled bird.
Avtonomov sat swaying back and forth beside him and seemed frightened.
There was a perceptible odor of wine in the air....
Glancing at the people who were coming up and not recognizing me, he
suddenly pulled the dead body.
“Get up, comrade, it’s time to be going.... A wanderer’s fate is to
wander always.”
He spoke in a very bombastic manner, but he rose uncertainly....
“Don’t you want to? Look, Vanya, I’ll leave you! I’ll go off alone....”
A village chief, with a medal on his chest, hurried up to the group and
laid one hand on Avtonomov’s shoulder.
“Stop, don’t go away.... You’ve got to make a statement.... What sort of
people are you?”
Avtonomov, with ironical humility, took off his cap and bowed.
“Please be so kind, your village excellency....”
Above our heads sounded a peal of the bell. The monks were being summoned
to vespers. The peal echoed, disturbed the heated air, and rolled above
the leafy tops of the oaks and black poplars beside the monastery and as
it died away, it fell to the sleepy river. The sound increased again, as
it struck the water, and a keen eye could almost follow its flight to the
other bank, to the bluish, mist-wrapped meadows.
All removed their hats. Avtonomov turned toward the sound and shook his
fist in the air.
“Listen, Vanya,” he said, “your father superior is calling you.... Your
benefactor.... Now he’ll receive you, I know....”
Peal after peal, rapid and repeated, ringing and quavering, fell down
upon the river solemnly and quietly....