Suddenly the white, quiet boys came running in a swarm into the glade, lightly and noiselessly, like a rapid, light summer shower. They appeared so quickly from among the bushes and threw themselves on the savage pair; they surrounded them, cast themselves upon them, threw them down, cast a sleeping spell upon them, and dragged them away into the depth of the dark hollow. And they left the naked bodies sprawling helplessly on the rough grasses. The rapid, noiseless movements of the quiet boys put Elisaveta into a mood verging on oblivion, half painful and half sweet. What happened in that thicket seemed like a heavy and incredible dream to Elisaveta--a sudden and cruel whim of the undependable Aisa. And for a long time a dark horror nestled in her soul, merging with senseless laughter--the exulting smile of pitiless irony.... Elisaveta came to herself. She saw above her the green branches of the birches and the lovely pale faces. She lay in the refreshing grass encircled by quiet children. She could not recall at once what had happened to her. Her nakedness was incomprehensible to her--but she felt no shame. Her eyes paused for a moment on some one’s neatly combed fair hair. She recognized Klavdia, the dissembling instructress. She stood under the tree, her arms folded, and looked with her grey eyes gleaming with envy at Elisaveta’s naked body; it was as if a grey spider was spinning across her soul a grey web of dull oblivion and tedious indifference. “Clothes will be here in a moment,” said one of the boys quietly. Elisaveta closed her eyes and lay tranquilly. Her head felt somewhat dizzy. Fatigue overcame her. Beautiful and graceful she lay there--as perfect as the dream of Don Quixote.... They were dark, long-drawn-out moments, and there fell in their midst from the gradually darkening sky a brief interval of great comprehension. And this brief interval became like an age--from birth until death. Early next morning Elisaveta clearly recalled the course of this strange, vivid life--the sad lofty road, the life of Queen Ortruda.[25] And when, suffocating, Ortruda was dying.... The rush of light feet in the grass awakened Elisaveta. Light, adroit hands dressed her. The quiet boys helped her to rise. Elisaveta rose and looked around her: a light green Grecian tunic draped her tired body within its broad folds. Elisaveta thought: “How shall I manage to walk so far?” And as if in answer to her question, she suddenly caught sight of a light trap under the trees. Some one said: “Kirsha will drive you home.” In her strange dress Elisaveta returned home. She sat silently in the trap. She did not even notice Trirodov. She was trying to recall something. Through the dark horror and senseless laughter there shone clearer and clearer the recollection of another life lived through momentarily--the life of Queen Ortruda. CHAPTER XXV