He hears some one hurrying down the hill, with light, skipping steps. He thinks, "That is probably Dina again." Dina ran to him, took a stone, and says, "Let me try it." She knelt down, and began to work with all her might. But her hands were as delicate as osiers. She had no strength. She threw down the stone, and burst into tears. Zhilin again tried to break the lock, and Dina squatted by his side, and leaned against his shoulder. Zhilin glanced up, and saw at the left behind the mountain a red glow like a fire; it was the moon just rising. "Well," he says to himself, "I must cross the valley and get into the woods before the moon rises." He stood up, and threw away the stone. No matter for the clog--he must take it with him. "Good-by," says he. "Dínushka, I shall always remember you." Dina clung to him, reached with her hands for a place to stow away some cakes. He took the cakes. "Thank you," said he: "you are a thoughtful darling. Who will make you dolls after I am gone?" and he stroked her hair. Dina burst into tears, hid her face in her hands, and scrambled up the hillside like a kid. He could hear, in the darkness, the jingling of the coins on her braids. Zhilin crossed himself, picked up the lock of his clog so that it might not make a noise, and started on his way, dragging his leg all the time, and keeping his eyes constantly on the glow where the moon was rising. He knew the way. He had eight versts to go in a direct course, but he would have to strike into the forest before the moon came entirely up. He crossed the stream, and now the light was increasing behind the mountain. He proceeded along the valley: it was growing light. He walks along, constantly glancing around; but still the moon was not visible. The glow was now changing to white light, and one side of the valley grew brighter and brighter. The shadow crept away from the mountain till it reached its very foot. Zhilin still hurried along, all the time keeping to the shadow. He hurries as fast as he can, but the moon rises still faster; and now, at the right, the mountain-tops are illuminated. He struck into the forest just as the moon rose above the mountains. It became as light and white as day. On the trees all the leaves were visible. It was warm and bright on the mountain-side; every thing seemed as though it were dead. The only sound was the roaring of a torrent far below. He walked along in the forest; he had met no one. Zhilin found a little spot in the forest where it was still darker, and began to rest. While he rested he ate one of his cakes. He procured a stone and once more tried to break the padlock, but he only bruised his hands, and failed to break the lock. He arose and went on his way. When he had gone a verst his strength gave out, his feet were sore. He had to walk ten steps at a time, and then rest.