When Sergey Golovin and Kashirin had gone a few steps, Kashirin suddenly stopped and said loudly and distinctly: “Good-by, comrades.” “Good-by, comrade,” they shouted in answer. They went off. It grew quiet. The lanterns beyond the trees became motionless. They awaited an outcry, a voice, some kind of noise—but it was just as quiet there as it was among them—and the yellow lanterns were motionless. “Oh, my God!” some one cried hoarsely and wildly. They looked about. It was Tsiganok, writhing in agony at the thought of death. “They are hanging!” They turned away from him, and again it became quiet. Tsiganok was writhing, catching at the air with his hands. “How is that, gentlemen? Am I to go alone? It’s livelier to die together. Gentlemen, what does it mean?” He seized Werner by the hand, his fingers clutching and then relaxing. “Dear master, at least you come with me? Eh? Do me the favor? Don’t refuse.” Werner answered painfully: “I can’t, my dear fellow. I am going with him.” “Oh, my God! Must I go alone, then? My God! How is it to be?” Musya stepped forward and said softly: “You may go with me.” Tsiganok stepped back and rolled the whites of his eyes wildly. “With you!” “Yes.” “Just think of her! What a little girl! And you’re not afraid? If you are, I would rather go alone!” “No, I am not afraid.” Tsiganok grinned. “Just think of her! But do you know that I am a murderer? Don’t you despise me? You had better not do it. I shan’t be angry at you.” Musya was silent, and in the faint light of dawn her face was pale and enigmatic. Then suddenly she walked over to Tsiganok quickly, and, throwing her arms about his neck, kissed him firmly upon his lips. He took her by the shoulders with his fingers, held her away from himself, then shook her, and, with loud smacks, kissed her on the lips, on the nose, on the eyes. “Come!” Suddenly the soldier standing nearest them staggered forward, and opening his hands, let his gun drop. He did not stoop down to regain it, but stood for an instant motionless, turned abruptly and, like a blind man, walked toward the forest over the untouched snow. “Where are you going?” called out another soldier in fright. “Halt!” But the man continued walking through the deep snow silently and with difficulty. Then he must have stumbled over something, for he waved his arms and fell face downward. And there he remained lying on the snow. “Pick up the gun, you sour-faced gray-coat, or I’ll pick it up,” said Tsiganok sternly to the other soldier. “You don’t know your business!” The little lanterns began to move about busily again. Now it was the turn of Werner and Yanson. “Good-by, master!” called Tsiganok loudly. “We’ll meet each other in the other world, you’ll see! Don’t turn away from me. When you see me, bring me some water to drink—it will be hot there for me!” “Good-by!” “I don’t want to be hanged!” said Yanson drowsily.