His widely-opened eyes glanced from the book to Ilya's face and back again, and he shook with excitement. "And that saying is in it--do you remember?--that the old preacher said to your uncle in the bar--'The tabernacles of robbers prosper!'--It's there, I found it, and things worse than that!" Jakov shut his eyes and said solemnly, with uplifted hand: "'How oft is the candle of the wicked put out, and how oft cometh destruction upon them! God distributed sorrows in his anger'--Do you hear?--'God layeth up his iniquity for his children: He rewardeth him and he shall know it.'" "Does it really say that?" said Ilya, incredulously. "Word for word." "Then I think that is--not right--wicked," said Ilya. The church servant drew down his bushy brows till they shaded his eyes, his beard moved up and down, and he spoke clearly in a dull, strange voice: "The boldness of the man who seeks the Truth is not sinful, for it springs from divine prompting." Ilya shuddered. The speaker sighed deeply, and went on, slowly and distinctly: "'The Truth itself bids a man seek Me! For Truth is God, and it is written: It is a great glory to follow the Lord.'" The man's face, covered with thick hair, inspired Ilya with shyness and respect. There was in it something strong, sublime. His brows went up again, he looked at the ceiling, and his big beard moved again: "Read him, Jakov, from the Book of Job, the beginning of the tenth chapter." Jakov turned over the leaves quickly, and read, in a low, trembling voice: "'My soul is weary of my life; I will leave my complaint upon myself; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul. I will say unto God, do not condemn me: Show me wherefore thou contendest with me. Is it good unto Thee that Thou shouldest oppress; that Thou shouldest despise the work of Thine hands?'" Ilya stretched out his neck and looked at the book with blinking eyes. "You don't believe it?" cried Jakov. "How silly you are!" "Not silly, only cowardly," said the church servant, quietly, "because he cannot look God in the face." He turned his dull eyes from the ceiling to Ilya's face, and went on sternly as though he would shatter him with words. "There are parts that are more difficult than that one. The third verse of the twenty-second chapter says plainly: 'Is it any pleasure to the Almighty that thou art righteous? or is it gain to Him that thou makest thy ways perfect?' You need to think very diligently, so as not to go astray in these matters and to understand them." "And you, do you understand?" asked Lunev softly. "He?" cried Jakov. "Nikita Jegarowitch understands everything." But the church servant said, sinking his voice lower: "For me, it's too late already. It is time for me to understand death; they've taken off my leg, but it's swelling higher up, and the other leg is swelling, and my breast, and I shall soon die of it." His eyes stared steadily at Ilya and he continued slowly and quietly: