"Shall I show you something? Shall I?"
"Yes—do."
"But promise you'll never say a word."
"I promise."
"Say—may I be damned in Hell, if I do."
Ilya repeated the formula, whereupon Jakov led him to the old lime-tree in the furthest corner of the courtyard. There he lifted from the stem a strip of bark, cunningly fastened, and behind it Ilya saw a big hollow in the tree. It was a space cleverly scooped out with a knife, and adorned with gay rags, scraps of paper, and bits of tin foil. In the depth of the hollow stood a small figure, cast in bronze, and a wax candle end was fixed upright before it.
"Did you see it?" asked Jakov, putting the bark again over the opening.
"Yes, I saw. What is it?"
"It's a chapel," explained Jakov. "At night I can always come out very quietly and light the candle and pray. Isn't it beautiful?"
Ilya liked his friend's idea, but at once perceived the danger.