Things began to move quickly. Our pockets swelled. The little house began to be built and shone bright in the sun, like a golden cage for Olga. Soon the roof was to be put on, and then the stove had to be built, and in the fall it would be finished for us to move into. One evening I was going home from the village of Jakimoffka, where I had gone to take the cattle from some peasants for their debts. Just as I stepped out of the wood which lay before the village, I saw my house in the sunset burning like a torch. At first I thought it was the reflection of the sun surrounding it with red rays which reached up to heaven. But then I saw the people running and heard the fire crackle and snap, and my heart suddenly broke. I saw that God was my enemy. Had I had a stone then, I would have thrown it against heaven. I saw how my thievish work was going up in smoke and ashes, and saw myself as if on fire, and said: "Thou desirest to show me, O Lord, that I have burnt my soul to dust and ashes. Thou desirest to show me that. I do not believe it; I do not wish Thy humiliation. It was not through Thy will that it burned but because the peasants through hatred of me and Titoff set fire to it. I do not wish to believe in Thy wrath, not because I am not worthy of it, but because this wrath is not worthy of Thee. Thou didst not wish to lend Thy help to the weak in the hour of his need, so that he could withstand sin. Thus, Thou art the guilty One, not I. As in a dark wood, which was already full grown, so I stepped into sin. How could I then have kept myself free from it?" But these foolish words could neither console me nor make me right. They only awoke in my soul an evil obstinacy. My house burned down more quickly than my wrath. For a long time I stood on the edge of the wood, leaning against the trunk of a tree and haggled with God, while Olga's white face, bathed in tears and drawn with pain, rose up before my eyes. And I spoke to God boldly, as to one familiar: "Thou art strong. So will I be also. Thus it should be for justice' sake." The fire was quenched and all became quiet and dark. Only a few flames thrust their tongues out into the night, like the sobs of a child after it has stopped crying. The night was cloudy and the river shone like a flaming sword which some one had lost in the field. I could have clutched at this sword and swung it high in the air to hear it ring over the earth. Toward midnight I reached the village. At the door of the house were Olga and her father. They awaited me. "Where were you?" Titoff asked. "I stood on the hill and watched the fire." "Why didn't you come to put it out?" "Can I perform miracles? Would the fire have gone out if I had spat on it?" Olga's eyes were swollen with tears and she was black with smoke and soot. I laughed when I saw her. "You worked hard?" I asked. Her eyes filled with tears. Titoff said gloomily: "I don't know what will happen now." "You must begin the building anew," I said.