He turned to the Cossack.
"Good-bye, Johann Schmidt, good-bye. I shall see you again, before long. We have always helped each other, my friend. I have much to thank you for."
"You have helped me, you mean," said the Cossack, in a rather shaky voice.
"No, no—each other, and we will continue to do so, I hope, in a different way. Good-bye, Dumnoff. You have a better heart than people think."
"Are you not going to take me to Russia, after all?" asked the mujik, almost humbly.
"Did I say I would? Then you shall go. But not as coachman, Dumnoff. Not as coachman, I think. Good-bye, Anna Nicolaevna," he said, turning to the insignificant girl, who was at last too much awed to giggle.
Then he came to Vjera's place. The girl was leaning forward, hiding her face in her hands, and resting her small, pointed elbows on the table.
"Vjera, dear," he said, bending down to her, "will you come with me, now?"
She looked up, suddenly, and her face was very white and drawn, and wet with tears.
"Oh no, no!" she said in a low voice. "How can I ever be worthy of you, since it is really true?"