“Who’s howling?”
“I’m frightened, grandpa! Can’t you hear him?”
“That is some one crying,” his grandfather answered. “Go back to sleep, little silly. They are sad and so they are crying.”
“I want to go home!” the boy persisted, sobbing and trembling like a leaf. “Grandpa, do let us go home to mamma. Let us go, dear grandpa! God will give you the kingdom of heaven if you will take me home!”
“What a little idiot it is! There, there, be still, be still. Hush, I’ll light the lantern, silly!”
The coachman felt for the matches, and lit the lantern, but the light did not calm Aliosha.
“Grandpa, let’s go home!” he implored, weeping. “I’m so frightened here! Oh, oh, I’m so frightened! Why did you send for me to come here, you hateful man?”
“Who is a hateful man? Are you calling your own grandfather names? I’ll beat you for that!”
“Beat me, grandpa, beat me like Sidorov’s goat, only take me back to mamma! Oh, do! do!...”
“There, there, child, hush!” the coachman whispered tenderly. “No one is going to hurt you, don’t be afraid. Why, I’m getting frightened myself! Say a prayer to God!”