To whom these words were addressed I know not! My legs would hardly bear me forth, to such a degree was I frightened. Just imagine: his face was the colour of red copper, he was foaming at the mouth, his voice was hoarse, exactly as though some one were choking him!... And that very same day I went--I, the orphan of orphans--to Marfa Savishna ... and found her in great affliction. Even her outward appearance had undergone a change: she had grown thin in the face. But she would not talk with me about my son. Only one thing she did say: that no human aid could effect anything in that case. "Pray, father," she said,--and then she presented me with one hundred rubles,--"for the poor and sick of your parish," she said. And again she repeated: "Pray!"--O Lord! As if I had not prayed without that--prayed day and night! Here Father Alexyei again pulled out his handkerchief, and again wiped away his tears, but not by stealth this time, and after resting for a little while, he resumed his cheerless narrative. Yakoff and I then began to descend as a snowball rolls down hill, and both of us could see that an abyss lay at the foot of the hill; but how were we to hold back, and what measures could we take? And it was utterly impossible to conceal this; my entire parish was greatly disturbed, and said: "The priest's son has gone mad; he is possessed of devils,--and the authorities ought to be informed of all this."--And people infallibly would have informed the authorities had not my parishioners taken pity on me ... for which I thank them. In the meantime winter was drawing to an end, and spring was approaching.--And such a spring as God sent!--fair and bright, such as even the old people could not remember: the sun shone all day long, there was no wind, and the weather was warm! And then a happy thought occurred to me: to persuade Yakoff to go off with me to do reverence to Mitrofany, in Voronezh. "If that last remedy is of no avail," I thought, "well, then, there is but one hope left--the grave!" So I was sitting one day on the porch just before evening, and the sunset glow was flaming in the sky, and the larks were warbling, and the apple-trees were in bloom, and the grass was growing green.... I was sitting and meditating how I could communicate my intention to Yakoff. Suddenly, lo and behold! he came out on the porch; he stood, gazed around, sighed, and sat down on the step by my side. I was even frightened out of joy, but I did nothing except hold my tongue. But he sits and looks at the sunset glow, and not a word does he utter either. But it seemed to me as though he had become softened, the furrows on his brow had been smoothed away, his eyes had even grown bright.... A little more, it seemed, and a tear would have burst forth! On beholding such a change in him I--excuse me!--grew bold.