“Intercede for me, Aksana; you have a kind heart!”
Aksana came running out, wringing her hands.
“I begged you on my knees, Count, at your feet I once begged you, to spare my maidenhood, and to-night I besought you not to defile me, a married woman. You would not spare me, and now you are asking mercy for yourself. Okh, do not ask it from me; what can I do?”
“Let me go!” cried the Count once more. “You will all go to Siberia because of me!”
“Do not grieve for us, Count,” answered Opanas. “Raman will be out on the marsh before your men get back, and, as for me, I am alone in the world, thanks to your kindness. I shan’t worry about myself. I shall shoulder my carbine and be off into the forest. I shall gather together a band of lusty lads and we shall roam through the country, coming forth out of the forest onto the highroads at night. When we reach a village we shall make straight for the Count’s domain. Come on, Raman, lad, raise up the Count and let us carry his honour out into the rain.”
Then the Count began to struggle and scream, but Raman only growled under his breath, and Opanas laughed. So they went out.
But I took fright. I rushed into the hut and ran straight to Aksana. My Aksana was sitting on a bench, as white as that plaster wall.
And the storm was raging in earnest through the forest by now; the pines were shouting with many voices, and the wind was howling, while from time to time a clap of thunder would rend the air. Aksana and I sat on a bench, and all at once I heard someone groan in the forest. Okh, he groaned so pitifully that to-day when I remember it my heart grows heavy, and yet it happened many years ago.
“Aksana,” I asked, “dear Aksana, who is that groaning in the forest?”
But she took me in her arms and rocked me and said: