We began to quarrel. First he reproached me for my insolence, and then he began talking about things which I knew just as well as he, but the meaning of which, in his anger, he changed. And then they both began, he as well as his wife, to insult me. "You are both rascals," they cried, "you and your father-in-law! You have robbed the church. The swampy field belonged to the church from time immemorial, and that is why God has punished you." "You are right," I said. "The swampy field was taken from you unjustly. But you yourself had taken it away from the peasants." I rose and wanted to go. "Stop!" cried the priest, "and the money for the Forty-Day prayer?" "It is not necessary," I answered. I went out and thought: "Here you have found comfort for your soul, Matvei." Three days later, Sasha, my little son, died. He had mistaken arsenic for sugar, and eaten it. His death made no impression on me. I had become cold and indifferent to everything. CHAPTER VII I decided to go to a town, where an arch-bishop lived--a pious, learned man, who disputed continually with the Old Believers about the true faith and was renowned for his wisdom. I told my father-in-law that I was going away and that he could have my house and all that I possessed for a hundred rubles. "No," he answered, "that is not the way to do business. You must sign me a note for half a year for three hundred rubles." I signed it, ordered my passport and began my trip. I walked on foot, for I thought that thus the confusion in my soul would subside. But although I walked to do penance, still my thoughts were not with God. I was afraid and angry with myself. My thoughts were distorted and they fell apart like worn-out cloth. The sky was dark above me. With great difficulty I reached the Archbishop. A servant, a pretty, delicate youngster, who received the visitors, would not let me enter. Four times he sent me back, saying: "I am the secretary. You must give me three rubles." "I won't give you a three-kopeck piece," I said. "Then I won't let you in." "All right. Then I'll go in myself." He saw that I was determined not to give in to him. "Well, then, come in," he said. "I was only joking. You are a funny fellow." He led me into a little room, where a gray old man sat coughing in a corner of a divan, dressed in a green cassock. His face was wrinkled and his eyes were very stern and set deep in his forehead. "Well," I thought, "he can tell me something." "What do you want?" he asked me. "My soul is troubled, father." The secretary stood behind me and whispered: "You must say 'your reverence.'" "Send the servant away," I said. "It is difficult for me to speak when he is here." The Archbishop looked at me, bit his lip and ordered: "Go behind the door, Alexei. Well, what have you done?" "I doubt God's mercy," I answered. He put his hand on his forehead, looked at me for some time and then muttered in a singing voice: "What? What's that? You fool!"