“I’ve had little time to think over anything,” observed Elisaveta calmly, “but the feeling of freedom is the thing nearest to me. I cannot express it in words--I only know that we are fettered on this earth by iron bonds of necessity and of circumstance, but the nature of my soul is freedom; its fire is consuming the chains of my material dependence. I know that we human beings will always be frail, poor, lonely; but a time will surely come when we shall pass through the purifying flame of a great conflagration; then a new earth and a new heaven shall open up to us; through union we shall attain our final freedom. I know I am saying all this badly, incoherently--I cannot say clearly what I feel--but let us, please, say no more.” Elisaveta strode out of the summer-house. Piotr slowly followed her. His face was sad and his eyes shone feverishly, but he could not utter a word--inertia gripped his mind. Quite suddenly he roused himself, raised his head, smiled, overtook Elisaveta. “You love me, Elisaveta,” he said with joyous assurance. “You love me, though you won’t admit it. You are not speaking the truth when you say that you don’t understand my love. You do know my love, you do believe in it--tell me, is it possible to love so strongly and not be loved in return?” Elisaveta stopped. Her eyes lit up with a strange joy. “I tell you once more,” she said with calm resolution, “it is not me you love--you love the First Bride. I am going where I must.” Piotr stood there and looked after her--helpless, pale, dejected. Between the bushes a sun-yellow dress fluttered against the now dull sky of a setting sun. CHAPTER V Piotr and Elisaveta descended towards the boat landing. Two rowing-boats seemed to rock on the water, though there was no breeze and the water was smooth like a mirror. A little farther, behind the bushes, the canvas roof of the bath-house stood revealed. Elena, Misha, and Miss Harrison were already there. They were sitting on a bench halfway down the slope, where the path to the landing was broken. The view from here, showing the bend of the river, was very restful. The water was growing darker, heavier, gradually assuming a leadlike dullness. Misha and Elena, flushed with running, could not suppress their smiles. The Englishwoman looked calmly at the river, and nothing shocked her in the evening landscape and in the peaceful water. But now two persons came who brought with them their poignant unrest, their uneasiness, their confusion--and again an endless wrangle began.