Aksenof was silent, and he did not know what to say. Makar Semenof let himself down from the bunk, performed a genuflection, and said:
“Ivan Dmitrievich, forgive me, forgive me for God’s sake! I will let them know that I killed the merchant, and they will let you go free. Then you can return home.”
Aksenof replied:
“It is easy for you to say that, but it is for me to suffer. Where can I go now?... My wife is dead; my children have forgotten me; there is nowhere for me to go....”
Makar Semenof did not rise from the ground; he beat his head against the earth and continued saying:
“Ivan Dmitrich, forgive me! When they put the lash on me, it was much easier for me to bear than to look at you now.... And to think that you had pity on me—and did not tell. Forgive me, for the sake of Christ! Forgive me, accursed wretch that I am!”
Then he began to weep.
When Aksenof saw that Makar Semenof was weeping, he too wept, and said:
“God will forgive you; perhaps I am a hundredfold worse than you!”
And all at once he felt as if something were lifted from his soul. And he ceased to yearn for home, and did not wish to leave the prison, but thought only of the final hour.