He arose, swayed, held on to the tree and looked at me with his wild eyes. "I wish you had told it to the whole world!" he roared. "It would be easier for me! I could repent before others and they would forgive me. But you, scoundrel, despise every one. I do not want to be under obligations to you, you proud heretic. Get out, or I'll have the sin of blood on me!" "If that is the way it is," I said, "go away yourself, if you have to. I won't go--that is sure." He again jumped on me, and we both fell into the mud, getting dirty like frogs. I proved to be the stronger, and arose, but he still lay there, weeping and miserable. "Listen, Misha," I said. "I am going away a little later. Now I can't. I am not staying out of spite, but because I have to. I have got to be here." "Go to your father, the devil," he groaned, and gnashed his teeth. I went away from him, and a little while later he was ordered to go to the monastic inn in the city, and I never saw him again. CHAPTER XIII When my penance was finished I stood before Anthony, dressed in new clothes. I remember this period of my life from the first day to the last; everything, even to each word, was burned into my soul and cut into my flesh. He led me to his cells quietly, and taught me in detail how and when and in what way I was to serve him. One room was arranged with book-cases, full of worldly and religious books. "This," he said, "is my chapel." In the center of the room stood a large table, near the window an upholstered armchair, and toward one side of the table a divan covered with rich tapestry. In front of the table there was a chair with a high back, covered with pressed leather. A second room was his bedroom. It had a wide bed, a wardrobe filled with cassocks and linen, a wash stand with a large mirror, many brushes and combs and gaily colored perfume bottles. And on the walls of the third room, which was uninviting and empty, were two closed cupboards, one for wine and food and the other for china, pastry, preserves and sweets. Having finished this inspection, he led me to his library and said: "Take a seat. So, this is the way I live. Not like a monk, eh?" "No," I answered; "not quite according to rule." "Well, you condemn every one. I suppose you will condemn me soon, too." He smiled, haughty as a bell tower. I loved him for his beautiful face, but his smile was disagreeable to me. "I do not know whether I will condemn you," I said. "I certainly would like to understand you." He laughed low, in a base, which was offensive to me. "You are illegitimate?" he asked. "Yes." "You have good blood in your veins?" "What is good blood?" I asked. He laughed, then answered impressively. "Good blood is something from which proud souls are made."