"Be off," cried the convict suddenly. "Get away, or I shall beat you. What nonsense are you talking?"
He pushed the child violently to one side. Before her stood all at once a completely altered "grandfather." In his sunken eyes there glowed a lurid spark, his grey hairs bristled, and his face twitched convulsively. His breast heaved with a rattling sound, and his hand was clenched as though to strike. Anjuta started back in wild terror; even the baby bear was alarmed and slunk into the hut with its tail between its legs.
Ivan stood for a long while motionless, then he sat down silently by the fire and stirred it up.
"Cursed—cursed," he murmured to himself. "Who has cursed them. God pardons sinners, they say. Come!" he said gloomily to the little one. "Sit down here. It is all right."
"I am frightened."
Ivan bent lower over the fire. "The past will not let itself be buried," he thought. "Why must I frighten an innocent creature too?" Then again his memories stung him and he cried in a new outburst of rage, "Who dares curse us. You hard-hearted——Yes, it is all right," he added, trying to quiet the child who was still trembling. "You say you love Grandfather; so come nearer."
But Anjuta stared hard at him and did not move.
"Look at the nice soup," he said to tempt her and recovered his self-control. "We will take the fowl out by its legs. It shall have a special privilege and lie on the grass till it is cool, else you will burn your mouth." Anjuta approached with visible mistrust.
"Why are you afraid, you simpleton? Bring our spoons. Oh, you stupid thing! Have I ever hurt you?"
"You looked so dreadful—quite like another man."