One evening when they were off duty, and had had their tea, they went out into the fields together. The Infirmary stood some way out at the back of the town, in the midst of a green far-stretching plain, bounded on one side by the dark edge of the forest, and on the other by the soft outline of the distant town. Towards the north the field extended into the far distance, and faded into a dim blue horizon; on the south it was bordered by the deep ravine-like banks of the river, which ran through the country roads, shaded on either side by trees planted at regular intervals The sun was just setting, and the golden crosses of the church-towers of the town, rising above the dark green of the gardens, flashed in all their brilliance against the background of the sky, and reflected golden rays. The windows also of the houses flashed back the red glow of the sunset. Music could be heard in the distance. From the dense ravine, sown thickly with the débris of the fir-trees bordering the river, an aromatic scent arose, whilst the evening wind brought from the forest in caressing waves a mingling of spicy perfumes. A soft, sweetly melancholy, yet intense feeling, lay over the whole wide expanse. The Orloffs walked silently through the fields, breathing delightedly the fresh air, which, in contrast with the atmosphere of the Infirmary, seemed to them more than ordinarily pleasant. "Listen! there's a band!... Is it in the town or up at the barracks?" Matrona asked in a low voice of her husband, who seemed to be sunk in thought. She did not like him to brood in this sort of way by himself. He appeared to her at such moments strange and far away. They had seen but little of each other these last few days, so that the moments now when they were together, seemed to her all the more precious. "A band?" asked Grigori, as if waking out of a dream, "the devil take such music!... You should just listen to the music which is ringing through my soul.... That's the right sort of music!..." "What sort of music are you talking about?" said Matrona, looking anxiously into his eyes. "I don't know myself what sort.... I can't describe it to you, and if I could you would not understand. My soul seems in a sort of glow.... I should like to go forth, far, far away.... I should like to put forth my whole strength.... Ah! I feel within me such boundless strength!... If for instance this cholera would change itself into a man, into a giant, into Ilja Murometz himself, for instance ... then I would wrestle with him, and we would see who would conquer!... Thou art strong, and I, Grischka Orloff, am also strong ... we will see which is the stronger of the two! ... And I would overcome him, even if I myself lost my life in the struggle.... They would erect a cross to me there in the green fields, 'To the Memory of Grigori Andrejeff Orloff ... who freed Russia from the Cholera.' ... That's all I should want!" His face flushed, and his eyes flashed whilst he was speaking.