"That's it! Until we meet again!" the officer scoffed.
Vyesovshchikov silently pressed Pavel's hands with his short fingers
and breathed heavily. The blood mounted to his thick neck; his eyes
flashed with rancor. The Little Russian's face beamed with a sunny
smile. He nodded his head, and said something to the mother; she
made the sign of the cross over him.
"God sees the righteous," she murmured.
At length the throng of people in the gray coats tumbled out on
the porch, and their spurs jingled as they disappeared. Rybin went
last. He regarded Pavel with an attentive look of his dark eyes
and said thoughtfully: "Well, well--good-by!" and coughing in his
beard he leisurely walked out on the porch.
Folding his hands behind his back, Pavel slowly paced up and down
the room, stepping over the books and clothes tumbled about on the
floor. At last he said somberly:
"You see how it's done! With insult--disgustingly--yes! They
left me behind."
Looking perplexedly at the disorder in the room, the mother
whispered sadly:
"They will take you, too, be sure they will. Why did Nikolay speak
to them the way he did?"
"He got frightened, I suppose," said Pavel quietly.
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