"'I have seen it very well, Olga, all through these three years; over and over again it is my fault. First, I left her longing and fearing between hope and despair for seven long years, till the strength was drained in this way from her body and soul--heaven knows she never had much to spare; and then I dragged her with her sickly body and broken spirit here into this misery, where all were hostile to her, and those most hostile who should have held her most dear. And I myself!--yes, if I myself had been brave and of good cheer, if I could have guarded her that her foot might not dash against any stone, if I had spread sunshine across her path, then perhaps she might have flourished at my side. But I was often rough and surly, stormed and raged in the house and the farm, never thinking how every loud word made her start, so that she already grew pale if I only frowned. Look at this little handful of life, how it lies here; and then look at me, the great, uncouth, coarse-grained giant! Sometimes in the night when I woke, I was afraid lest I might possibly crush her in my arms. And, after all, I have crushed her! What I required was a wife, strong and----' "He stopped short, terrified, and cast a glance, which eloquently pleaded for forgiveness, towards Martha's face, but I completed his sentence for myself. "When he had left the room a wild feeling of joy seized me. It rushed through my head like a whirlwind; it confused my senses; my pride, my defiance, my self-respect, everything seemed to be swallowed up in it. "The atmosphere of the sick room lay heavily upon me, like a suffocating cloth. My brain was burning with the carbolic vapours which rose up from the bowl in front of me. My breath began to fail me. "I fled to the window, and pressing my forehead against the sash, I drank in the cold night air which found its way into the room through the chinks. Morning dawned through the curtains--cold-grey--enveloped in fog.... Faintly gleaming clouds slowly heaved upwards on the horizon and threw a fallow sheen over the dripping trees, which seemed to have grown still more bare overnight. "What a night! "And how many, worse than this one, are about to follow? What phantoms, begotten of darkness, born in horror, will rise up before my fevered senses as the nights come on? "Shivering, I crept into a corner. I was afraid of myself. "The hours of the morning passed away, and by degrees I grew calmer. The memory of this night, with its feverish turmoil and pangs of conscience, waxed dim. What I had experienced and felt became a dream, A leaden weariness took possession of me; I closed my eyes and thought about nothing. "And then came a blissful hour. It was towards ten o'clock when Martha suddenly opened her faithful blue eyes and looked up at me consciously and brightly.