"Are you coming? If you do something for other people, your hand will soon be well."
She took my arm and led me in the dark, as if I had been blind. It was a black, damp night; the wind blew continuously, making the river flow more swiftly and blowing the cold sand against my legs. Grandmother cautiously approached the darkened windows of the poor little houses, crossed herself three times, laid a five-copeck piece and three cracknel biscuits on the window-sills, and crossed herself again. Glancing up into the starless sky, she whispered:
"Holy Queen of Heaven, help these people! We are all sinners in thy sight, Mother dear."
Now, the farther we went from home, the denser and more intense the darkness and silence became. The night sky was pitch black, unfathomable, as if the moon and stars had disappeared forever. A dog sprang out from somewhere and growled at us. His eyes gleamed in the darkness, and I cravenly pressed close to grandmother.
"It is all right," she said; "it is only a dog. It is too late for the devil; the cocks have already begun to crow."
Enticing the dog to her, she stroked it and admonished it:
"Look here, doggie, you must not frighten my grandson."
The dog rubbed itself against my legs, and the three of us went on. Twelve times did grandmother place "secret alms" on a window-sill. It began to grow light: gray houses appeared out of the darkness; the belfry of Napolni Church rose up white like a piece of sugar; the brick wall of the cemetery seemed to become transparent.
"The old woman is tired," said grandmother; "it is time we went home. When the women wake up they will find that Our Lady has provided a little for their children. When there is never enough, a very little comes in useful. O Olesha, our people live so poorly and no one troubles about them!
"The rich man about God never thinks;
Of the terrible judgment he does not dream;
The poor man is to him neither friend nor brother;
All he cares about is getting gold together.
But that gold will be coal in hell!