From the time he had covered
himself with the sackcloth and
seated himself behind the sledge,
Nikita had not stirred. Like
all those who live in touch with
nature and have known want, he
was patient and could wait for
hours, even days, without growing
restless or irritable. He heard
his master call him, but did
not answer because he did not
want to move or talk. Though
he still felt some warmth from
the tea he had drunk and from
his energetic struggle when clambering
about in the snowdrift, he knew
that this warmth would not last
long and that he had no strength
left to warm himself again by
moving about, for he felt as
tired as a horse when it stops
and refuses to go further in
spite of the whip, and its master
sees that it must be fed before
it can work again. The foot in
the boot with a hole in it had
already grown numb, and he could
no longer feel his big toe. Besides
that, his whole body began to
feel colder and colder.
The thought that he might,
and very probably would, die
that night occurred to him, but
did not seem particularly unpleasant
or dreadful. It did not seem
particularly unpleasant, because
his whole life had been not a
continual holiday, but on the
contrary an unceasing round of
toil of which he was beginning
to feel weary. And it did not
seem particularly dreadful, because
besides the masters he had served
here, like Vasili Andreevich,
he always felt himself dependent
on the Chief Master, who had
sent him into this life, and
he knew that when dying he would
still be in that Master's power
and would not be ill-used by
Him. 'It seems a pity to give
up what one is used to and accustomed
to. But there's nothing to be
done, I shall get used to the
new things.'
'Sins?' he thought, and remembered
his drunkenness, the money that
had gone on drink, how he had
offended his wife, his cursing,
his neglect of church and of
the fasts, and all the things
the priest blamed him for at
confession. 'Of course they are
sins. But then, did I take them
on of myself? That's evidently
how God made me. Well, and the
sins? Where am I to escape to?'
So at first he thought of what
might happen to him that night,
and then did not return to such
thoughts but gave himself up
to whatever recollections came
into his head of themselves.
Now he thought of Martha's arrival,
of the drunkenness among the
workers and his own renunciation
of drink, then of their present
journey and of Taras's house
and the talk about the breaking-up
of the family, then of his own
lad, and of Mukhorty now sheltered
under the drugget, and then of
his master who made the sledge
creak as he tossed about in it.
'I expect you're sorry yourself
that you started out, dear man,'
he thought. 'It would seem hard
to leave a life such as his!
It's not like the likes of us.'
Then all these recollections
began to grow confused and got
mixed in his head, and he fell
asleep.
But when Vasili Andreevich,
getting on the horse, jerked
the sledge, against the back
of which Nikita was leaning,
and it shifted away and hit him
in the back with one of its runners,
he awoke and had to change his
position whether he liked it
or not. Straightening his legs
with difficulty and shaking the
snow off them he got up, and
an agonizing cold immediately
penetrated his whole body. On
making out what was happening
he called to Vasili Andreevich
to leave him the drugget which
the horse no longer needed, so
that he might wrap himself in
it.
But Vasili Andreevich did not
stop, but disappeared amid the
powdery snow.
Left alone Nikita considered
for a moment what he should do.
He felt that he had not the strength
to go off in search of a house.
It was no longer possible to
sit down in his old place--it
was by now all filled with snow.
He felt that he could not get
warmer in the sledge either,
for there was nothing to cover
himself with, and his coat and
sheepskin no longer warmed him
at all. He felt as cold as though
he had nothing on but a shirt.
He became frightened. 'Lord,
heavenly Father!' he muttered,
and was comforted by the consciousness
that he was not alone but that
there was One who heard him and
would not abandon him. He gave
a deep sigh, and keeping the
sackcloth over his head he got
inside the sledge and lay down
in the place where his master
had been.
But he could not get warm in
the sledge either. At first he
shivered all over, then the shivering
ceased and little by little he
began to lose consciousness.
He did not know whether he was
dying or falling asleep, but
felt equally prepared for the
one as for the other.
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