His tall figure moved among the apple trees and he caught at the branches and let fall the perfumed snow of flowers, muttering: "Oh, the fool!" And behind him, dragging along the ground, was his thick, heavy shadow. I lay in the garden until morning, and then went to Father Isador. "Give me back my passport. I am going away." He was so startled that he jumped up. "Why? Where?" "Somewhere--in the world. I don't know where," I answered. He began to question me. "I will not explain anything," I said. I went out from his cell and sat down near it on the bench underneath the old pine tree. I sat there on purpose, for it was the bench on which those who were driven away, or went of their own free will, sat, as if to announce the fact of their departure. The brothers passed me, and looked at me sideways; some even spat at me. I forgot to say that there had been a rumor that Anthony had taken me as his lover. The Neophytes envied me and the monks envied that gentleman of mine. And they slandered both of us. The brothers passed, saying to each other: "Ah, they have driven him away; thanked be the Lord!" Father Assaf, a sly and malicious old man, who acted as the Abbot's spy, and was known in the monastery as a half-witted hypocrite, attacked me with vile words, so that I said to him: "Go away, old man. If not I will take you by the ear and put you away." Although he was half-witted, as I said, he understood my words. The head of the monastery called me to him and spoke in a friendly tone: "I told you, Matvei, my son, that it would have been better to have entered the office, and I was right. Old men always know more. Do you think with your obstinate nature that you could act as a servant? Here you have shamefully insulted the revered Father Anthony." "He told you that?" "Who, then? You have not said anything." "Did he tell you that he showed me a naked woman?" The Father Abbot made a cross over me from holy fright and said, shaking his hands: "What is the matter with you? What is the matter with you? God be with you! What kind of a woman? That is some dream of yours, coming from the flesh; a creation of the devil. Oh, oh, oh! You should think of your words. How can a woman be in a monastery of men?" I wanted to calm him. "Who, then, brought you the port wine, and the cheese, and the caviar last night?" "What are you saying? Christ save you. How can you think up such things?" It was disgusting and enough to drive one insane. CHAPTER XIV At noon I crossed the lake, sat down on the bank and gazed at the monastery where I had slaved for over two years.