The dirty building loomed large in the darkness and seemed to be coming nearer, threatening the singers, who were arousing its dull echoes. The heavy, pompous clouds were floating in the sky over their heads. One of the "creatures that once were men" was snoring; the rest, not yet so drunk, ate and drank quietly or spoke to each other at long intervals. It was unusual for them to be in such low spirits during such a feast, with so much vodki. Somehow the drink tonight did not seem to have its usual exhilarating effect. "Stop howling, you dogs!" ... said the Captain to the singers, raising his head from the ground to listen. "Some one is passing ... in a droshky...." A droshky at such a time in the main street could not but attract general attention. Who would risk crossing the ditches between it and the town, and why? They all raised their heads and listened. In the silence of the night the wheels were distinctly heard. They came gradually nearer. A voice was heard asking roughly: "Well, where then?" Someone answered, "It must be there, that house." "I shall not go any further." "They are coming here!" shouted the Captain. "The police!" someone whispered in great alarm. "In a droshky! Fool!" said Martyanoff, quietly. Kuvalda got up and went to the entrance. "Is this a lodging-house?" asked someone, in a trembling voice. "Yes. Belonging to Aristid Kuvalda ..." said the Captain, roughly. "Oh! Did a reporter, one Titoff, live here?" "Aha! Have you brought him?" "Yes ..." "Drunk?" "Ill." "That means he is very drunk. Ay, teacher! Now, then, get up!" "Wait, I will help you ... He is very ill ... he has been with me for the last two days ... Take him under the arms ... The doctor has seen him. He is very bad." Tyapa got up and walked to the entrance, but Abyedok laughed, and took another drink. "Strike a light, there!" shouted the Captain. Meteor went into the house and lighted the lamp. Then a thin line of light streamed out over the courtyard, and the Captain and another man managed to get the teacher into the dosshouse. His head was hanging on his breast, his feet trailed on the ground, and his arms hung limply as if broken. With Tyapa's help they placed him on a wide board. He was shivering all over. "We worked on the same paper ... he is very unlucky.... I said, 'Stay in my house, you are not in my way,' ... but he begged me to send him 'home.' He was so excited about it that I brought him here, thinking it might do him good... Home! This is it, isn't it?" "Do you suppose he has a home anywhere else?" asked Kuvalda, roughly, looking at his friend. "Tyapa, fetch me some cold water." "I fancy I am of no more use," remarked the man in some confusion. The Captain looked at him critically. His clothes were rather shiny, and tightly buttoned up to his chin. His trousers were frayed, his hat almost yellow with age and crumpled like his lean and hungry face.