“I--I don’t know. I--the knife is--I--not mine----” Then the official said: “This morning the merchant was found stabbed in his bed. It wasn’t possible for any one else to do it. The house was locked from the inside, and there was no one else in the house but you. Besides, the knife covered with blood has been found in your sack; and your face too shows it. Tell me, how did you kill him, and how much money did you get?” Aksenof swore that he was not the guilty man, that he did not see the merchant after he had had tea with him, that the eight thousand rubles in his possession were his own money, and that the knife was not his. But his voice quavered, his face was pale, and he trembled from head to foot, like one guilty. The official called the soldiers, ordered him bound and taken into the carriage. When, with his feet fast, he was thrust into the carriage, Aksenof crossed himself and began to cry. Aksenof’s things and money were taken from him, and he was sent to prison in a near-by city. Inquiries were made in Vladimir to find out what sort of man he was, and it was generally agreed among the merchants and inhabitants of the city that while from the time of his youth Aksenof drank and had had a good time, he was a good-hearted man. Then began his trial. The charge against him was that he had killed the merchant and had stolen his twenty thousand rubles. Aksenof’s wife suffered intensely, and did not know what to think. Her children were still young, one a suckling. She took them all with her and arrived in the city where her husband was imprisoned. At first she was refused admission, but after many petitions she was led to her husband. When she saw him in prison apparel, in chains, among a lot of cut-throats, she fell to the ground, and it was a long time before she came to herself. Then she placed her children around her, sat down at his side, and began to tell him all about the domestic affairs and to ask him about all that had happened to him. After he had told her all, she said: “Well, what’s to be done now?” He replied: “It is necessary to send a petition to the Czar. It is wrong to let an innocent person suffer.” To this, his wife said that a petition to the Czar had already been sent, but that it had not reached him. Thereupon Aksenof grew silent, and seemed much downcast. Then she reminded him: “There was something, after all, in that dream--do you remember?--in which I saw you gray-headed. There, from sorrow you’ve really grown gray. You shouldn’t have gone on the journey.” And as she ran her fingers through his hair, she said: “Vania, my dear one, tell your wife the truth: didn’t you really do it?” Aksenof replied, “And you too believe it!” He covered his face with his hands and wept. Later a soldier entered, and said that it was time for the visitors to depart. And Aksenof for the last time bid farewell to his family.