O God! I glance behind me.... The old woman
is looking straight at me, and her toothless mouth
is distorted in a grin....
There are two of us in the room, my dog and I....
A frightful storm is raging out of doors.
The dog is sitting in front of me, and gazing straight
into my eyes.
And I, also, am looking him straight in the eye.
He seems to be anxious to say something to me.
He is dumb, he has no words, he does not understand
himself—but I understand him.
I understand that, at this moment, both in him and
in me there dwells one and the same feeling, that
there is no difference whatever between us. We
are exactly alike; in each of us there burns and glows
the selfsame tremulous flame.
Death is swooping down upon us, it is waving its cold,
broad wings....
Who shall decide afterward, precisely what sort of
flame burned in each one of us?
No! it is not an animal and a man exchanging glances....
It is two pairs of eyes exactly alike fixed on each
other.
And in each of those pairs, in the animal and in the
man, one and the same life is huddling up timorously
to the other.
I had a comrade-rival; not in our studies, not in
the service or in love; but our views did not agree
on any point, and every time we met, interminable
arguments sprang up.
We argued about art, religion, science, about the
life of earth and matters beyond the grave,—especially
life beyond the grave.
He was a believer and an enthusiast. One day
he said to me: “Thou laughest at everything;
but if I die before thee, I will appear to thee from
the other world.... We shall see whether thou
wilt laugh then.”
And, as a matter of fact, he did die before me, while
he was still young in years; but years passed, and
I had forgotten his promise,—his threat.
One night I was lying in bed, and could not get to
sleep, neither did I wish to do so.
It was neither light nor dark in the room; I began
to stare into the grey half-gloom.
And suddenly it seemed to me that my rival was standing
between the two windows, and nodding his head gently
and sadly downward from above.
I was not frightened, I was not even surprised ...
but rising up slightly in bed, and propping myself
on my elbow, I began to gaze with redoubled attention
at the figure which had so unexpectedly presented
itself.
The latter continued to nod its head.
“What is it?” I said at last.—“Art
thou exulting? Or art thou pitying?—What
is this—a warning or a reproach?...
Or dost thou wish to give me to understand that thou
wert in the wrong? That we were both in the wrong?
What art thou experiencing? The pains of hell?
The bliss of paradise? Speak at least one word!”
