Yakoff and I then began to descend as a snowball rolls down hill, and both of us could see that an abyss lay at the foot of the hill; but how were we to hold back, and what measures could we take?  And it was utterly impossible to conceal this; my entire parish was greatly disturbed, and said:  “The priest’s son has gone mad; he is possessed of devils,—­and the authorities ought to be informed of all this.”—­And people infallibly would have informed the authorities had not my parishioners taken pity on me ... for which I thank them.  In the meantime winter was drawing to an end, and spring was approaching.—­And such a spring as God sent!—­fair and bright, such as even the old people could not remember:  the sun shone all day long, there was no wind, and the weather was warm!  And then a happy thought occurred to me:  to persuade Yakoff to go off with me to do reverence to Mitrofany, in Voronezh.  “If that last remedy is of no avail,” I thought, “well, then, there is but one hope left—­the grave!”

So I was sitting one day on the porch just before evening, and the sunset glow was flaming in the sky, and the larks were warbling, and the apple-trees were in bloom, and the grass was growing green....  I was sitting and meditating how I could communicate my intention to Yakoff.  Suddenly, lo and behold! he came out on the porch; he stood, gazed around, sighed, and sat down on the step by my side.  I was even frightened out of joy, but I did nothing except hold my tongue.  But he sits and looks at the sunset glow, and not a word does he utter either.  But it seemed to me as though he had become softened, the furrows on his brow had been smoothed away, his eyes had even grown bright....  A little more, it seemed, and a tear would have burst forth!  On beholding such a change in him I—­excuse me!—­grew bold.

“Yakoff,” I said to him, “do thou hearken to me without anger....”  And then I informed him of my intention; how we were both to go to Saint Mitrofany on foot; and it is about one hundred and fifty versts to Voronezh from our parts; and how pleasant it would be for us two, in the spring chill, having risen before dawn, to walk and walk over the green grass, along the highway; and how, if we made proper obeisance and prayed before the shrine of the holy man, perhaps—­who knows?—­the Lord God would show mercy upon us, and he would receive healing, of which there had already been many instances.  And just imagine my happiness, my dear sir!

“Very well,” says Yakoff, only he does not turn round, but keeps on gazing at the sky.—­“I consent.  Let us go.”

I was fairly stupefied....

“My friend,” I say, “my dear little dove, my benefactor!"...  But he asks me: 

“When shall we set out?”

“Why, to-morrow, if thou wilt,” I say.