"Curse the dog!" exclaimed one vagabond in a rasping voice. "I'll have him following us no longer with his ghostly howls. And I tell you, Ivan, it is useless to go back further, for Lev had the papers when we were here before."
"Yes, curse the dog," returned the man with the ever-grinning mouth. "Curse him, of course; and since you feel such deep affection for him, why not present him with one of those tablets meant for Pleschivna's palate? Perhaps they would even so fulfill their intended purpose. What say you, Lev?"
The dull-eyed Jewish lad stared at the dog as if fascinated. "It may be," he said and shivered again. It was, indeed, a very cold night.
"Well, and the papers?" Peter impatiently queried.
"I say, then, it is useless to go forward to Vilna without them. We must search about here. Perhaps Lev has an opinion." But Lev was thinking only of a much-thumbed philosophical tract in his pocket. "Or, perhaps, learned theosophist, you believe that the dog has taken them. You could not tell us somewhat of them yourself, could you, Lev?"
"Lev! Why, he's afraid of his own shadow! He would not dare to tell a lie, not even to himself," Peter scoffed.
Again the dog whimpered. He went up to Lev and licked the boy's hand. Ivan watched the performance interestedly. "None the less," he said, "the dog shall have his dose; and that right now. He follows us about like an evil spirit." The men disposed themselves as on the evening before.
How Lev had prayed for the night! And now that his prayer was answered, how he stared into the thick, solid blackness and longed for the grey light of morning! With straining ears he listened to the midnight stillness. He had not even thought of sleep. If only he could rid himself of that dullness or could concentrate his thoughts!
A figure broke through the bushes. "Ivan, Ivan!" came Peter's voice. "Ivan, wake up!" Ivan roused himself. "Well, Peter, why do you create such a disturbance?" Ivan's speech was pettish, though still husky from interrupted sleep. "Ivan, I got up and gave the dog the dose, as you said. He slunk off into the woods. I followed. I don't know why. It was almost midnight when he gave a sharp cry and dropped. I swear I had never lost sight of him for an instant. I went up to look. He was dead. And, Ivan, from his very mouth I took—the papers!" Peter waxed triumphantly dramatic, his every low-spoken word sounding in Lev's ears with the loudness of a tribal war-whoop. After much fumbling in the darkness he placed in Ivan's hands a slightly torn packet.
"A light!" Ivan spoke tersely.