Soon afterwards they parted, she being sad and somewhat hurt. Yourii noticed her dejection, and was morbidly pleased thereat, as if he had revenged himself on some one he loved for a gross personal insult. At home his ill-humour was increased. During dinner Lialia repeated what Riasantzeff had told her about Soloveitchik. As the men were removing the corpse, several urchins had called out: “Ikey’s hanged himself! Ikey’s hanged himself!” Nicolai Yegorovitch laughed loudly, and made her say: “Ikey’s hanged himself,” over and over again. Yourii shut himself up in his room, and, while correcting his pupil’s exercises, he thought: “How much of the brute there is in every man! For such dull-witted beasts is it worth while to suffer and to die?” Then, ashamed of his intolerance, he said to himself. “They are not to blame. They don’t know what they are doing. Well, whether they know or not, they’re brutes, and nothing else!” His thoughts reverted to Soloveitchik. “How lonely is each of us in this world! There was poor Soloveitchik, great of heart, living in our midst ready to make any sacrifice, and to suffer for others. Yet nobody, any more than I did, noticed him or appreciated him. In fact, we despised him. That was because he could not express himself, and his anxiety to please only had an irritating effect, though, in reality he was striving to get into closer touch with all of us, and to be helpful and kind. He was a saint, and we looked upon him as a fool!” So keen was his sense of remorse that he left his work, and restlessly paced the room. At last he sat down at the table, and, opening the Bible, read as follows: “As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away, so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more. “He shall return no more to his house, neither shall his place know him any more.” “How true that is! How terrible and inevitable!” he thought. “Here I sit, alive, thirsting for life and joy, and read my death- warrant. Yet I cannot even protest against it!” As in a frenzy of despair, he clasped his forehead and with ineffectual fury appealed to some Power invisible and supreme. “What has man done to thee that thou shouldst mock him thus? If thou dost exist, why dost thou hide thyself from him? Why hast thou made me thus, that even though I would believe in thee I yet have no belief in my own faith? And, if thou shouldst answer me, how can I tell if it is thou or I myself that makes reply? If I am right in wishing to live, why dost thou rob me of this right which thou thyself gavest to me? If thou hast need of our sufferings, well, these let us bear for love of thee. Yet we know not even if a tree be not of greater worth than a man.