"Whither away, Akím Semyónitch? Art not thou coming to my house?"--exclaimed Efrém,--perceiving that Akím turned to the right from the highway. "No, Efrémushka, thanks,"--replied Akím.... "I will go and see what my wife is doing." "Thou canst see later on.... But now thou must for joy .. thou knowest ...." "No, thanks, Efrém.... I 've had enough as it is. Farewell."--And Akím walked away without looking behind him. "Eka! He has had enough as it is!"--ejaculated the astounded chanter;--"and I have taken my oath on his behalf! Well, I did n't expect this,"--he added with vexation,--"after I had vouched for him. Phew!" He remembered that he had forgotten to take his knife and pot, and returned to the inn.... Naúm gave orders that his things should be delivered to him, but it never entered his head to entertain him. Thoroughly enraged and completely sober he presented himself at home. "Well, what?"--his wife asked him;--"didst thou find him?" "Did I find him?"--retorted Efrém;--"certainly I found him; there are thy utensils for thee." "Akím?"--inquired his wife, with special emphasis. Efrém nodded his head. "Yes, Akím. But what a goose he is! I went bail for him; without me he would have been put in prison, and he never even treated me to a glass of liquor. Ulyána Feódorovna, do you, at least, show me consideration; give me just one little glass." But Ulyána Feódorovna showed him no consideration and drove him out of her sight. In the meantime, Akím was proceeding with quiet strides along the road which led to Lizavéta Prókhorovna's village. He had not yet been able fully to recover himself; he was all quivering inside, like a man who has but just escaped imminent death. He seemed not to believe in his freedom. With dull amazement he stared at the fields, at the sky, at the larks which were fluttering their wings in the warm air. On the previous day, at Efrém's house, he had not slept at all since dinner, although he had lain motionless on the oven; at first he had tried to drown with liquor the intolerable pain of injury within him, the anguish of wrathful, impotent indignation .... but the liquor could not entirely overcome him; his heart waxed hot within him, and he began to meditate how he might pay off his malefactor.... He thought of Naúm alone; Lizavéta Prókhorovna did not enter his head, and from Avdótya he mentally turned away. Toward evening, the thirst for revenge had blazed up in him to the point of crime, and he, the good-natured, weak man, with feverish impatience waited for the night, and like a wolf pouncing on its prey, he rushed forth with fire in his hand to annihilate his former home... But he had been captured .... locked up.... Night came. What had not he turned over in his mind during that atrocious night! It is difficult to convey in words all the tortures which he had undergone; it is all the more difficult, because these torments even in the man himself were wordless and dumb....