“Tell me,” I said, “as thy father in the flesh and in the spirit, Yasha, what aileth thee?  Do not kill me; explain thyself, lighten thy heart!  Can it be that thou hast ruined some Christian soul?  If so, repent!”

“Well, dear father,” he suddenly says to me (this took place toward nightfall), “thou hast moved me to compassion.  I will tell thee the whole truth.  I have not ruined any Christian soul—­but my own soul is going to perdition.”

“How is that?”

“In this way....”  And thereupon Yakoff raised his eyes to mine for the first time.—­“It is going on four months now,” he began....  But suddenly he broke off and began to breathe heavily.

“What about the fourth month?  Tell me, do not make me suffer!”

“This is the fourth month that I have been seeing him.”

“Him?  Who is he?”

“Why, the person ... whom it is awkward to mention at night.”

I fairly turned cold all over and fell to quaking.

“What?!” I said, “dost thou see him?”

“Yes.”

“And dost thou see him now?”

“Yes.”

“Where?” And I did not dare to turn round, and we both spoke in a whisper.

“Why, yonder ...” and he indicated the spot with his eyes ... “yonder, in the corner.”

I summoned up my courage and looked at the corner; there was nothing there.

“Why, good gracious, there is nothing there, Yakoff!”

“Thou dost not see him, but I do.”

Again I glanced round ... again nothing.  Suddenly there recurred to my mind the little old man in the forest who had given him the chestnut.  “What does he look like?” I said....  “Is he green?”

“No, he is not green, but black.”

“Has he horns?”

“No, he is like a man,—­only all black.”

As Yakoff speaks he displays his teeth in a grin and turns as pale as a corpse, and huddles up to me in terror; and his eyes seem on the point of popping out of his head, and he keeps staring at the corner.

“Why, it is a shadow glimmering faintly,” I say.  “That is the blackness from a shadow, but thou mistakest it for a man.”

“Nothing of the sort!—­And I see his eyes:  now he is rolling up the whites, now he is raising his hand, he is calling me.”

“Yakoff, Yakoff, thou shouldst try to pray; this obsession would disperse.  Let God arise and His enemies shall be scattered!”

“I have tried,” says he, “but it has no effect.”

“Wait, wait, Yakoff, do not lose thy courage.  I will fumigate with incense; I will recite a prayer; I will sprinkle holy water around thee.”

Yakoff merely waved his hand.  “I believe neither in thy incense nor in holy water; they don’t help worth a farthing.  I cannot get rid of him now.  Ever since he came to me last summer, on one accursed day, he has been my constant visitor, and he cannot be driven away, Understand this, father, and do not wonder any longer at my behaviour—­and do not torment me.”