The morning was bright and clear. The seven stars of the Great Bear shone faintly, while large and lustrous in the crimson east flamed the morning star. A fresh breeze stirred the leaves, and dispersed the grey mists that floated above the lawn and veiled the smooth surface of the stream beside whose margin water-lilies and myosotis and white clover grew in abundance. The sky was flecked with little pink clouds, while here and there a last star trembled in the blue. All was so beautiful, so calm, as if the awestruck earth awaited the splendid approach of dawn. Yourii at last went back to bed, but the garish daylight prevented him from getting sleep, as he lay there with aching brow and jaded eyes. CHAPTER XXXV. Early that morning, soon after sunrise, Ivanoff and Sanine walked forth from the town. The dew sparkled in the sunlight, and the damp grass seen in shadow appeared grey. Along the side of the road flanked by gnarled willows, pilgrims were slowly wending their way to the monastery. The red and white kerchiefs covering their heads and their bright-hued coats and shirts gave colour and picturesqueness to the scene. The monastery bells rang out in the cool morning air, and the sound floated across the steppe, away to the dreaming woods in the dim blue distance. A _troika_ came jingling along the highroad, and the rough voices of the pilgrims as they talked could be distinctly heard. “We’ve come out a little too early,” said Ivanoff. Sanine looked round about him, contented and happy. “Well, let us wait a while,” he replied. They sat down on the sand, close to the hedge, and lit their cigarettes. Peasants walking along behind their carts turned to look at them, and market-women and girls as they rattled past in rickety traps pointed at the wayfarers amid bursts of merry, mocking laughter. Ivanoff took not the slightest notice of them, but Sanine smiled and nodded in response. At last there appeared on the steps of a little white house with a bright green roof the proprietor of the “Crown” tavern, a tall man in his shirt-sleeves who noisily unlocked the door, while yawning incessantly. A woman wearing a red kerchief on her head slipped in after him. “The very thing!” cried Ivanoff. “Let’s go there.” So they went to the little inn and bought vodka and fresh gherkins from the woman with the red kerchief. “Aha! you seem to be pretty flush of money, my friend,” said Ivanoff, as Sanine produced his purse. “I’ve had an advance,” replied the latter, smiling. “Much to my mother’s annoyance, I have accepted the secretaryship of an assurance agency. In this way I was able to get a little cash as well as maternal contempt.” When they regained the high-road, Ivanoff exclaimed: “Oh! I feel ever so much better now!” “So do I. Suppose we take off our boots?” “All right.” Having taken off their boots and socks, they walked barefoot through the warm, moist sand, which was a delightful experience after trudging along in heavy boots.