But the only answer was a hasty outpouring of trembling words.

“What harm have I done you? Why do you shout at me? Haven’t I washed you and given you drink? Didn’t I give you brandy? Didn’t I cry when you cried? Didn’t it hurt me when you were groaning? Oh, my God, my Lord! Even the good I do brings me nothing but suffering in return. What evil have I done either to your body or soul? How can I—I, harm you in any way?”

He broke off sobbing, and said no more.

He was seated on the ground, he took his head in his hands and began to sway from side to side.

“It’s you, then, Cain, is it?”

“Well, what of it? It is I.”

“You? So you did all that? Well, well! Come here, then. Come, you queer creature, you!”

Artyom was quite overwhelmed with surprise, and conscious at the same time of a feeling very nearly akin to joy. He even began to laugh when he saw the Jew creeping timidly towards him on all fours, the little eyes moving restlessly in the funny face that Artyom knew so well.

“Don’t be afraid! I swear I will not touch you.” He saw that it was necessary to reassure the Jew.

Cain crawled up to him, stopped, and looked up with a pleading, timorous smile, as if he had quite expected to have his fear-shrunken little body trampled under foot.

“And so it is you, then! You have done all this for me! And who sent you?…Anfissa?” asked Artyom, who could hardly move his tongue.

“I came of my own accord.”

“Of your own accord? You lie!”

“I am not lying! I speak the truth!” replied Cain in a rapid whisper. “It was of my own accord. Please believe me. I will tell you how it happened. I heard about the affair in Grabilovka. I was drinking my tea, and I heard them say: ‘Last night they did in Artyom.’ I did not believe it. Is it possible to do you in? I laughed to myself. ‘What fools they are,’ I thought, ‘that man is a Samson, and which of you could overcome him?’ But first one and then another came in repeating the same thing. ‘He’s done for now! He’s done for now!’ They cursed you and laughed—everyone was pleased—and at last I was obliged to believe it true. Then I learnt that you were here. Some of them had already been round to look at you, and reported that you were dead. I came myself, and saw you.…You were groaning as I stood near you. I said to myself as I looked at you: ‘And they have overcome him—the strongest man in the world!—Such strength, such strength!’ I felt pity for you—forgive me for saying it! I thought your wounds ought to be washed—and I did it—and the water revived you. I was so delighted to see this—oh! so delighted. You do not believe me, I know. Why? Because I am a Jew. Isn’t it so? But no, do believe me. I will tell you why I was so pleased, and all I thought at the time—I will tell you the truth—you won’t get angry with me?”

“See, I make the sign of the cross! May a thunderbolt kill me!” swore the vanquished Artyom with energy.

Cain drew a little nearer to him and lowered his voice even further:

“You know what a fine life I lead—you know it, don’t you? Haven’t I—forgive me—endured blows from you? Haven’t you often laughed at the dirty Jew? What? Isn’t it true? You will forgive me if I speak the truth, you have sworn to do so. Do not get angry—I only say that you, like others, have persecuted the Jew. And why? Is not the Jew the son of your God, and was not my soul given to me by the same God