He spoke as if he were threatening some one. "I am coming!"
I watched him closely after this meeting. He had a serious streak in him. He was always where Mikhail's comrades talked, and he listened and squinted his eyes as if taking aim where to send himself. He had a special way of playing tricks. He teased only those who stood near to the boss.
Once at dinner, he said: "It is dull here, monk."
"Why?"
"I don't know, but they are a rotten lot. Work and trouble, nothing more. As soon as I learn my trade I am going to get out of here, quick."
Whenever he spoke of his future wanderings his eyes became large and he glanced boldly and had the look of a conqueror, who staked his all on his own strength.
I liked this creature, and I felt something mature in his speech. "He won't get lost," I thought to myself as I looked at him.
My soul ached for my own son. How was he and what was going to happen to him on this earth?