Matréna wanted to go on scolding, but she looked at the stranger and kept silence. The stranger sat without moving, just as he had seated himself on the edge of the bench. His hands were folded on his knees, his head drooped on his breast, his eyes were not opened, and he frowned as though something were choking him. Matréna grew silent. And Semén said: "Matréna, have you no God?" When Matréna heard these words, she glanced at the stranger, and suddenly her heart became softened. She went away from the door, walked over to the oven corner, and got the supper ready. She placed a bowl on the table, filled it with kvas, and put down the last slice of bread. She handed them a knife and spoons. "Eat, if you please," she said. Semén touched the stranger. "Creep through here, good fellow!" he said. Semén cut up the bread and crumbled it into the kvas, and they began to eat. And Matréna sat down at the corner of the table, and leaned on her arm, and kept looking at the stranger. And Matréna pitied the stranger, and took a liking for him. And suddenly the stranger grew merry, stopped frowning, raised his eyes on Matréna, and smiled. They got through with their supper. The woman cleared the table, and began to ask the stranger: "Who are you?" "I am a stranger." "How did you get on the road?" "I cannot tell." "Has somebody robbed you?" "God has punished me." "And you were lying there naked?" "Yes, I was lying naked, and freezing. Semén saw me, took pity on me, pulled off his caftan, put it on me, and told me to come here. And you have given me to eat and to drink, and have pitied me. The Lord will save you!" Matréna got up, took from the window Semén's old shirt, the same that she had been patching, and gave it to the stranger; and she found a pair of trousers, and gave them to him. "Here, take it! I see that you have no shirt. Put it on, and lie down wherever it pleases you,--on the hanging bed or on the oven." The stranger took off the caftan, put on the shirt, and lay down on the hanging bed. Matréna put out the light, took the caftan, and climbed to where her husband was. Matréna covered herself with the corner of the caftan, and she lay and could not sleep: the stranger would not leave her mind. As she thought how he had eaten the last slice of bread and how there would be no bread for the morrow; as she thought how she had given him a shirt and a pair of trousers, she felt pretty bad; but when she thought of how he smiled, her heart was gladdened. Matréna could not sleep for a long time, and she heard that Semén, too, was not sleeping; he kept pulling the caftan on himself. "Semén!" "What is it?" "We have eaten up the last bread, and I have not set any. I do not know what to do for to-morrow. Maybe I had better ask Gossip Malánya for some." "If we are alive we shall find something to eat." The woman lay awhile and kept silence. "He must be a good man. But why does he not tell about himself?" "I suppose he cannot."