The Cossacks, quite out of breath, dragged the bodies aside and took the weapons from them. Each of the red-haired Chéchens had been a man, and each one had his own individual expression. Lukáshka was carried to the cart. He continued to swear in Russian and in Tartar. “No fear, I’ll strangle him with my hands. _Anna seni!_” he cried, struggling. But he soon became quiet from weakness. Olénin rode home. In the evening he was told that Lukáshka was at death’s door, but that a Tartar from beyond the river had undertaken to cure him with herbs. The bodies were brought to the village office. The women and the little boys hastened to look at them. It was growing dark when Olénin returned, and he could not collect himself after what he had seen. But towards night memories of the evening before came rushing to his mind. He looked out of the window, Maryánka was passing to and fro from the house to the cowshed, putting things straight. Her mother had gone to the vineyard and her father to the office. Olénin could not wait till she had quite finished her work, but went out to meet her. She was in the hut standing with her back towards him. Olénin thought she felt shy. “Maryánka,” said he, “I say, Maryánka! May I come in?” She suddenly turned. There was a scarcely perceptible trace of tears in her eyes and her face was beautiful in its sadness. She looked at him in silent dignity. Olénin again said: “Maryánka, I have come—” “Leave me alone!” she said. Her face did not change but the tears ran down her cheeks. “What are you crying for? What is it?” “What?” she repeated in a rough voice. “Cossacks have been killed, that’s what for.” “Lukáshka?” said Olénin. “Go away! What do you want?” “Maryánka!” said Olénin, approaching her. “You will never get anything from me!” “Maryánka, don’t speak like that,” Olénin entreated. “Get away. I’m sick of you!” shouted the girl, stamping her foot, and moved threateningly towards him. And her face expressed such abhorrence, such contempt, and such anger that Olénin suddenly understood that there was no hope for him, and that his first impression of this woman’s inaccessibility had been perfectly correct. Olénin said nothing more, but ran out of the hut. Chapter XLII