"No," says he, "I won't go, I can't go."
Zhilin grew angry; he threatens him, he scolds him.
"Then I will go on without you. Good-by!"
Kostuilin jumped up and followed. They went four versts farther. The fog began to grow thicker in the forest. Nothing could be seen before them; the stars were barely visible.
Suddenly they hear the tramping of a horse just in front of them; they can hear his shoes striking on the stones.
Zhilin threw himself down on his belly, and tried to listen by laying his ear to the ground.
"Yes, it is,—it is some one on horseback coming in our direction."
They slipped off to one side of the road, crouched down in the bushes, and waited. Zhilin crept close to the path, and looked.
He sees a mounted Tatar riding along, driving a cow. The man is muttering to himself. When the Tatar had ridden by, Zhilin returned to Kostuilin.
"Well, God has saved us. Up with you! Come along!"