“Twenty-six years ago I was condemned to hard labor on account of my sins.”
Makár Semyónof said:
“But what was your crime?”
Aksénof replied: “I must, therefore, have deserved this.”
But he would not tell or give any further particulars; the other convicts, however, related why Aksénof had been sent to Siberia. They told how on the road some one had killed a merchant, and put the knife into Aksénof’s luggage, and how he had been unjustly punished for this.
When Makár heard this, he glanced at Aksénof, clasped his hands round his knees, and said:
“Well, now, that’s wonderful! You have been growing old, Grandfather!”
They began to ask him what he thought was wonderful, and where he had seen Aksénof. But Makár did not answer; he only repeated:
“A miracle, boys! how wonderful that we should meet again!”
And when he said these words, it came over Aksénof that perhaps this man might know who it was that had killed the merchant. And he said: