“They are going to lay him on those tables soon,” answered the old man. “Come, child, it’s time to go to sleep.”
The coachman and Aliosha returned to the coach house. They said their prayers and took off their boots. Stepan stretched himself on the floor in a corner, and Aliosha climbed into a sleigh. The doors had been shut, and the newly extinguished lantern filled the air with a strong smell of smoking oil. In a few minutes Aliosha raised his head, and stared about him; the light from those four windows was shining through the cracks of the door.
“Grandpa, I’m frightened!” he said.
“There, there, go to sleep!”
“But I tell you I’m frightened!”
“What are you afraid of, you spoiled baby?”
Both were silent.
Suddenly Aliosha jumped out of the sleigh, burst into tears, and rushed to his grandfather weeping loudly.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” cried the startled coachman, jumping up, too.
“He’s howling!”