Anton obeyed. The wanderer quietly opened the door, stooped quickly, and, to my amazement, I saw him step nimbly into the opening. A scuffle ensued. Anton moved his feet and part of the stranger appeared outside for a moment, but without any delay and almost instantaneously he disappeared again within.
Interested by this unexpected turn of events, I almost instinctively walked up to the booth.
“I’ll yell, I’ll yell,” I heard the nasal but pitiful voice of Anton. “The fathers will beat you up again!”
“Don’t yell, Misha. What’s the matter?” argued the wanderer.
“Why do you keep calling me Misha? I tell you my name’s Anton.”
“In the monastic jargon your name will be Mikhailo. Remember that.... Hush! Quiet, Anton, keep still.”
The booth became silent.
“What for?” asked Anton. “What do you hear?”
“Listen, hear the tapping.... It’s raining.”
“Well, what of it? Tapping.... If I let out one shout, the fathers will tap harder on you.”