"Where's the truth?" asked Melnikov, putting his hand forward, as if to test the air.
"There, you see, two have been killed," said Yevsey, making an effort to catch an elusive thought.
"Many people have been killed to-day, I should think. All are blind."
"Why did Sasha arrange this?"
"I don't love him either."
"He's the one who ought to be killed," exclaimed Yevsey, with bitter vengefulness.
Melnikov was silent for a long time. Then he suddenly shook his fist in the air, and said resolutely:
"Enough! I've taken sins enough upon myself. On the other side of the Volga I have an uncle, a very old man. He is all I have in this world. I'll go to him. He keeps an apiary—when he was young he was tried for forgery." After another pause of silence the spy laughed quietly.
"What's the matter?" asked Yevsey, annoyed.
"I'm forgetting everything. My uncle has now been dead for three years."