However, I did run away in the spring. One morning when I went to the shop for bread the shopkeeper, continuing in my presence a quarrel with his wife, struck her on the forehead with a weight. She ran into the street, and there fell down. People began to gather round at once. The woman was laid on a stretcher and carried to the hospital, and I ran behind the cab which took her there without noticing where I was going till I found myself on the banks of the Volga, with two grevens in my hand.
The spring sun shone caressingly, the broad expanse of the Volga flowed before me, the earth was full of sound and spacious, and I had been living like a mouse in a trap. So I made up my mind that I would not return to my master, nor would I go to grandmother at Kunavin; for as I had not kept my word to her, I was ashamed to go and see her, and grandfather would only gloat over my misfortunes.
For two or three days I wandered by the river-side, being fed by kind-hearted porters, and sleeping with them in their shelters. At length one of them said to me:
"It is no use for you to hang about here, my boy. I can see that. Go over to the boat which is called The Good. They want a washer-up."
I went. The tall, bearded steward in a black silk skullcap looked at me through his glasses with his dim eyes, and said quietly:
"Two rubles a month. Your passport?"
I had no passport. The steward pondered and then said:
"Bring your mother to see me."
I rushed to grandmother. She approved the course I had taken, told grandfather to go to the workman's court and get me a passport, and she herself accompanied me to the boat.
"Good!" said the steward, looking at us. "Come along."