The Captain thought that if the teacher got up now, he would be as tall as Paltara Taras. Then he sat by the side of the dead man and sighed, as he remembered that they had lived together for the last three years. Tyapa entered holding his head like a goat which is ready to butt. He sat down quietly and seriously on the opposite side of the teacher's body, looked into the dark, silent face, and began to sob. "So . . . he is dead . . . I too shall die soon. . . ." "It is quite time for that!" said the Captain, gloomily. "It is," Tyapa agreed. "You ought to die too. Anything is better than this. . . ." "But perhaps death might be worse? How do you know?" "It could not be worse. When you die you have only God to deal with . . . but here you have to deal with men . . . and men-- what are they?" "Enough! . . . Be quiet!" interrupted Kuvalda angrily. And in the dawn, which filled the dosshouse, a solemn stillness reigned over all. Long and silently they sat at the feet of their dead companion, seldom looking at him, and both plunged in thought. Then Tyapa asked: "Will you bury him?" "I? No, let the police bury him!" "You took money from Vaviloff for this petition . . . and I will give you some if you have not enough." "Though I have his money . . . still I shall not bury him." "That is not right. You are robbing the dead. I will tell them all that you want to keep his money." . . . Tyapa threatened him. "You are a fool, you old devil!" said Kuvalda, contemptuously. "I am not a fool . . . but it is not right nor friendly." "Enough! Be off!" "How much money is there?" "Twenty-five roubles," . . . said Kuvalda, absently. "So! . . . You might gain a five-rouble note. . . ." "You old scoundrel! . . ." And looking into Tyapa's face the Captain swore. "Well, what? Give. . . ." "Go to the Devil! . . . I am going to spend this money in erecting a monument to him." "What does he want that for?" "I will buy a stone and an anchor. I shall place the stone on the grass, and attach the anchor to it with a very heavy chain." "Why? You are playing tricks. . . ." "Well . . . It is no business of yours." "Look out! I shall tell . . ." again threatened Tyapa. Aristid Fomich looked at him sullenly and said nothing. Again they sat there in that silence which, in the presence of the dead, is so full of mystery. "Listen . . . They are coming!" Tyapa got up and went out of the dosshouse. Then there appeared at the door the Doctor, the Police Inspector of the district, and the examining Magistrate or Coroner. All three came in turn, looked at the dead teacher, and then went out, throwing suspicious glances at Kuvalda. He sat there, without taking any notice of them, until the Police Inspector asked him: "Of what did he die?" "Ask him . . . I think his evil life hastened his end." "What?" asked the Coroner. "I say that he died of a disease to which he had not been accustomed. . . ." "H'm, yes. Had he been ill long?"