I sat down on the ground and said to myself:
"Then I have to go."
But fear took hold of me.
"Some one is running," Ivan whispered low.
I looked down from the mountain. Thick shadows were crawling over it. The sky was clouded, the moon in its last quarter now showed itself, now hid itself in the clouds. The whole earth about me moved, and from this noiseless movement something oppressive and fearful fell on me. I watched the torrents of shadows which flowed over the earth and which covered up the undergrowth and my soul with black veils.
A head moved among the brush, jumping like a ball among the branches. Ivan whistled low and said:
"It is Kostia!"
I knew Kostia. He was a boy of about fifteen, blue-eyed, blond and weak. He had finished school two years ago. Mikhail was preparing him to be his assistant.
I understood that I was thinking about these little details on purpose, for I wanted to put my thoughts aside and stifle my shame and my fear.
Kostia arrived panting, his voice broken.