The Cossack who had been addressed as Dorosch was full of curiosity, and addressed many questions to the philosopher Thomas. “I should like to know,” he said, “what you learn in your seminary; do you learn the same things as the deacon reads to us in church, or something else?”
“Don't ask,” said the consoler; “let them learn what they like. God knows what is to happen; God knows everything.”
“No, I will know,” answered Dorosch, “I will know what is written in their books; perhaps it is something quite different from that in the deacon's book.”
“O good heavens!” said the other, “why all this talk? It is God's will, and one cannot change God's arrangements.”
“But I will know everything that is written; I will enter the seminary too, by heaven I will! Do you think perhaps I could not learn? I will learn everything, everything.”
“Oh, heavens!” exclaimed the consoler, and let his head sink on the table, for he could no longer hold it upright.
The other Cossacks talked about the nobility, and why there was a moon in the sky.
When the philosopher Thomas saw the state they were in, he determined to profit by it, and to make his escape. In the first place he turned to the grey-headed Cossack, who was lamenting the loss of his parents. “But, little uncle,” he said to him, “why do you weep so? I too am an orphan! Let me go, children; why do you want me?”
“Let him go!” said some of them, “he is an orphan, let him go where he likes.”
They were about to take him outside themselves, when the one who had displayed a special thirst for knowledge, stopped them, saying, “No, I want to talk with him about the seminary; I am going to the seminary myself.”