"DEAR HELENKA" (it ran)--"I have felt so ill for some days past that I am probably going into the presence of Minos and Rhadamanthus, Aeacus, Triptolemus, and many others of the kind. In case of my removing to another place, please ask the Mayor of my village to send you all my property, consisting of books. I have at last finished my little primer, _Physics for the People_, over which we have so often racked our brains. Unfortunately I have not made a fair copy. If you have time--in case of my removal--arrange for the publication at once. Let Anton copy it out; he will do this for me. "Oh, bother!... I just remember I owe our bookseller eleven roubles sixty-five kopeks; pay him with my winter coat, for I have no money.... Take for yourself in remembrance...." The last words were illegible. There was no address; it was not possible to send off the letter. The doctor discovered the manuscript of the _Physics_ in the table drawer. It consisted of notes on slips of paper, mixed up with rubbish of all kinds. There was a little underlinen, a cloak lined with catskin, and an old black skirt, in the wardrobe. While the doctor busied himself in this way, he suddenly noticed the boy who had been sent for the remedies in the schoolroom. He was huddled against a corner of the stove, treading from one foot to the other. Savage hatred sprang up in the doctor's heart. "Why did you not come back in time?" he cried, running up to the boy. "I lost my way in the fields ... the horse gave out.... I arrived on foot in the morning ... the young lady was already----" "You lie!" The boy did not answer. The doctor looked into his eyes, and was overcome by a strange feeling. Those eyes were weary and terrible; a peasant's stupid, mute, wild despair lurked in them as in an underground cavern. "Here, sir, I have brought back the books the teacher lent me," he said, drawing some worn, soiled books from under his coat. "Leave me alone! Be off!" the doctor cried, turning away and hurrying into the next room. Here he stood among the rubbish, the books and papers thrown on the floor, and asked himself with a harsh laugh: "What am I doing here? I am no good; I have no right to be here!"