He took a piece of bread out of his pocket, made the sign of the cross over it, and divided it. They both made a meal, and after eating, rested full half an hour, camped on the edge of the valley. The valley opened on to the river, and they could see the stream quite plainly. It swept slowly past the valley in broad, silver-shining streaks, and when Ilya followed the flow of the water, he felt in his heart a keen desire to glide away with it—somewhere, anywhere. On the further side of the river, the green, newly-mown meadows stretched away and away, haystacks rising up among them like grey towers, and far on the horizon the dark jagged line of the forest stood out against the blue sky. A sense of rest and kindliness brooded over the meadow lands, inspiring the thought that a pure, transparent, sweet-smelling air drifted over them, while here it was so suffocating with the reek of the rotting refuse; the stench of it gripped the lungs and irritated the nose, and tears ran from Ilya's eyes as well as from the old man's.
"See, Ilya, how great and wide the world is!" said Jeremy; "and everywhere in it there are men living—living and tormenting themselves—and the Lord looks down out of Heaven and He sees everything and knows everything. All that a man so much as thinks, is known to Him, wherefore He is also called by the Holy Name, Lord God of Sabaoth, Jesus Christ. He knows everything, counts everything, thinks of everything. The spots of sin upon your soul you may conceal from men, but never from Him. He sees all. He thinks of you. 'Ah! thou sinner, thou miserable sinner! Wait, I must chastise thee.' And when the time comes, then He punishes—punishes you grievously! He gave command to men, 'Love ye one another,' and He has so ordered it that he who does not love his fellow-men is loved by no one. Such men live lonely in the world and their lot is heavy, and they have no gladness."
Ilya lay on his back, and looked up into the blue sky, whose limits he could not determine. Melancholy and sleepiness fell on him, vague, confused pictures drifted before his soul. It seemed to him as if far above in the sky, there hovered a mighty being, transparently clear, gentle and comforting, at once good and powerful, and that he, the little boy, might raise himself, with the old grandfather Jeremy and the whole earth, up into the boundless space, the blue ocean of light and shining purity, and his heart was full of peaceful, quiet joy. In the evening, when they returned home, Ilya trod the courtyard with the important self-assured gait of a man who has completed a good day's work. In the well-earned desire for rest, he retained not the least pleasure in such foolish things as other little boys and girls delight in. By his serious demeanour and the sack on his back, stuffed full of rare and fascinating things, he inspired a decided respect in all the children.
The grandfather smiled in a friendly way at the youngsters and chaffed them:
"Here children, see! the Lazaruses have come home again. They have hunted through the whole town and shoved their noses in everywhere. Run along Ilya, wash your face and come into the bar for tea."
Ilya went to his corner in the cellar with important strides, and a crowd of children followed him, keenly curious as to the contents of the sack. Only Pashka stood in his path and asked him pertly:
"Hullo! Rag-picker! Show us what you've brought."
"You'll have to wait," answered Ilya with decision. "Let me have my tea, then I'll show you."
In the bar, uncle Terenti met him with a friendly smile.
"Ha! Ha! little workman, back again? Tramped yourself tired, eh, young'un?"