The Brothers Karamazov
ed the dead man to recover and fulfil his promise. In the
morning as he lay down to sleep, Father Zossima had told
him positively: ‘I shall not die without the delight of an-
other conversation with you, beloved of my heart. I shall
look once more on your dear face and pour out my heart
to you once again.’ The monks, who had gathered for this
probably last conversation with Father Zossima, had all
been his devoted friends for many years. There were four
of them: Father Iosif and Father Paissy, Father Mihail the
warden of the hermitage, a man not very old and far from
being learned. He was of humble origin, of strong will and
steadfast faith, of austere appearance, but of deep tender-
ness, though he obviously concealed it as though he were
almost ashamed of it. The fourth, Father Anfim, was a very
old and humble little monk of the poorest peasant class. He
was almost illiterate, and very quiet, scarcely speaking to
anyone. He was the humblest of the humble, and looked as
though he had been frightened by something great and aw-
ful beyond the scope of his intelligence. Father Zossima had
a great affection for this timorous man, and always treated
him with marked respect, though perhaps there was no one
he had known to whom he had said less, in spite of the fact
that he had spent years wandering about holy Russia with
him. That was very long ago, forty years before, when Father
Zossima first began his life as a monk in a poor and little
monastery at Kostroma, and when, shortly after, he had ac-
companied Father Anfim on his pilgrimage to collect alms
for their poor monastery.
The whole party were in the bedroom which, as we men-