The thought of the masked ball delighted Sasha for many days. But later, doubts began to assail him. How could he get away from home, especially now after these recent annoyances. It would be a calamity if it were found out at the _gymnasia_ and he would be expelled. One of the form masters, a young man so liberal that he could not call the cat "Vaska," but called it "the cat Vassily," had recently made a significant observation to Sasha when he gave out the marks. "Look here, Pilnikov, you'll have to pay more attention to your work." "But I haven't any twos," said Sasha indifferently. His heart fell--what would he say next? No, nothing. He was silent and only looked sternly at Sasha. On the day of the masked ball Sasha felt that he would not have the courage to go. It was terrible. There was only one thing, the costume was ready at the Routilovs'--should it all be for nothing? And should all the plans and dreams be in vain? And Liudmillotchka would cry. No, he must go. His recently acquired habit of dissembling aided Sasha from betraying his agitation before Kokovkina. Luckily, the old woman went to bed early. And Sasha also went to bed early--to keep away suspicion he put his upper clothes on a chair near the door and placed his boots just outside the door. There was nothing for him to do now but to go--which was the most difficult part of the matter. He had only to follow the same path as when he went to have his costume fitted. Sasha put on a light summer blouse--it hung in the wardrobe in his room--and light house shoes and he carefully crept out of the window into the street, choosing a moment when there were no footsteps or voices in hearing. A small drizzle was falling. It was muddy, cold and dark. Every moment Sasha was afraid he would be recognised. He took off his cap and shoes, threw them back into his room, turned up his trousers, and ran, jumping over the pavements, slippery with rain. It was difficult to see a face in the dark, especially of someone running, and whoever met him would think he was an ordinary boy sent on an errand. * * * * * Valeria and Liudmilla had made for themselves unoriginal but artistic costumes; Liudmilla dressed herself as a gipsy, Valeria as a Spanish woman. Liudmilla wore bright red rags of silk and velvet, while the thin, frail Valeria wore black silk and lace, and had a black lace fan in her hand. Darya did not make herself a new costume, she kept last year's, that of a Turkish woman. She said: "It isn't worth while making a new one!" When Sasha arrived all three girls began to dress him. The wig worried Sasha most of all. "Suppose it should come off?" he kept repeating timorously. At last they strengthened the wig with ribbons tied under the chin. CHAPTER XXIX