By this time, the air under the lee of the stone was growing smoky and oppressive, for the fire, with its flames looking like a bouquet compounded of red poppies or azaleas and blooms of an aureate tint, had begun fairly to live its beautiful existence, and was blazing, and diffusing warmth, and laughing its bright, cheerful, intelligent laugh. Yet from the mountains and the cloud-masses evening was descending, as the earth emitted profound gasps of humidity, and the sea intoned its vague, thoughtful, resonant song.
"I presume we are going to pass the night here?" Kalinin at length queried.
"No, for my intention is, rather, to continue my journey."
"Then let us make an immediate start."
"But my direction will not be the same as yours, I think?"
Previously to this, Kalinin had squatted down upon his haunches, and taken some bread and a few pears from his wallet; but now, on hearing my decision, he replaced the viands in his receptacle, snapped—to the lid of it with an air of vexation—and asked:
"Why did you come with me at all?"
"Because I wanted to have a talk with you—I had found you an interesting character."
"Yes. At least I am THAT; many like me do not exist."
"Pardon me; I have met several."