Among the rest Aksionov sat down near the newcomers, and listened with
downcast air to what was said.
One of the new convicts, a tall, strong man of sixty, with a
closely-cropped grey beard, was telling the others what be had been
arrested for.
"Well, friends," he said, "I only took a horse that was tied to a
sledge, and I was arrested and accused of stealing. I said I had only
taken it to get home quicker, and had then let it go; besides, the
driver was a personal friend of mine. So I said, 'It's all right.'
'No,' said they, 'you stole it.' But how or where I stole it they
could not say. I once really did something wrong, and ought by rights
to have come here long ago, but that time I was not found out. Now I
have been sent here for nothing at all... Eh, but it's lies I'm
telling you; I've been to Siberia before, but I did not stay long."
"Where are you from?" asked some one.
"From Vladimir. My family are of that town. My name is Makar, and they
also call me Semyonich."
Aksionov raised his head and said: "Tell me, Semyonich, do you know
anything of the merchants Aksionov of Vladimir? Are they still alive?"
"Know them? Of course I do.
Pages:
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170