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up the day was breaking. I got up — I did not want to sleep
any more — I went to the window — opened it, it looked
out upon the garden; I saw the sun rising; it was warm and
beautiful, the birds were singing.
‘What’s the meaning of it?’ I thought. ‘I feel in my heart
as it were something vile and shameful. Is it because I am
going to shed blood? No,’ I thought, ‘I feel it’s not that. Can
it be that I am afraid of death, afraid of being killed? No,
that’s not it, that’s not it at all.’... And all at once I knew
what it was: it was because I had beaten Afanasy the eve-
ning before! It all rose before my mind, it all was, as it were,
repeated over again; he stood before me and I was beating
him straight on the face and he was holding his arms stiffly
down, his head erect, his eyes fixed upon me as though on
parade. He staggered at every blow and did not even dare to
raise his hands to protect himself. That is what a man has
been brought to, and that was a man beating a fellow crea-
ture! What a crime! It was as though a sharp dagger had
pierced me right through. I stood as if I were struck dumb,
while the sun was shining, the leaves were rejoicing and the
birds were trilling the praise of God.... I hid my face in my
hands, fell on my bed and broke into a storm of tears. And
then I remembered by brother Markel and what he said on
his death-bed to his servants: ‘My dear ones, why do you
wait on me, why do you love me, am I worth your waiting
on me?’
‘Yes, am I worth it?’ flashed through my mind. ‘After all
what am I worth, that another man, a fellow creature, made
in the likeness and image of God, should serve me?’ For the