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concerning that Vasili Brekhunov. 'He did not know, but now I know and know for sure.
Now I know!' And again he heard the voice of the one who had called him before. 'I'm
coming! Coming!' he responded gladly, and his whole being was filled with joyful emotion.
He felt himself free and that nothing could hold him back any longer.
After that Vasili Andreevich neither saw, heard, nor felt anything more in this
world.
All around the snow still eddied. The same whirlwinds of snow circled about,
covering the dead Vasili Andreevich's fur coat, the shivering Mukhorty, the sledge, now
scarcely to be seen, and Nikita lying at the bottom of it, kept warm beneath his dead
master.
X
Nikita awoke before daybreak. He was aroused by the cold that had begun to
creep down his back. He had dreamt that he was coming from the mill with a load of his
master's flour and when crossing the stream had missed the bridge and let the cart get
stuck. And he saw that he had crawled under the cart and was trying to lift it by arching
his back. But strange to say the cart did not move, it stuck to his back and he could
neither lift it nor get out from under it. It was crushing the whole of his loins. And how
cold it felt! Evidently he must crawl out. 'Have done!' he exclaimed to whoever was
pressing the cart down on him. 'Take out the sacks!' But the cart pressed down colder and
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colder, and then he heard a strange knocking, awoke completely, and remembered
everything. The cold cart was his dead and frozen master lying upon him. And the knock
was produced by Mukhorty, who had twice struck the sledge with his hoof.
'Andreevich! Eh, Andreevich!' Nikita called cautiously, beginning to realize the
truth, and straightening his back. But Vasili Andreevich did not answer and his stomach
and legs were stiff and cold and heavy like iron weights.
'He must have died! May the Kingdom of Heaven be his!' thought Nikita.
He turned his head, dug with his hand through the snow about him and opened his
eyes. It was daylight; the wind was whistling as before between the shafts, and the snow
was falling in the same way, except that it was no longer driving against the frame of the
sledge but silently covered both sledge and horse deeper and deeper, and neither the
horse's movements nor his breathing were any longer to be heard.
'He must have frozen too,' thought Nikita of Mukhorty, and indeed those hoof
knocks against the sledge, which had awakened Nikita, were the last efforts the already
numbed Mukhorty had made to keep on his feet before dying.
'O Lord God, it seems Thou art calling me too!' said Nikita. 'Thy Holy Will be
done. But it's uncanny. . . . Still, a man can't die twice and must die once. If only it would
come soon!'
And he again drew in his head, closed his eyes, and became unconscious, fully
convinced that now he was certainly and finally dying.
It was not till noon that day that peasants dug Vasili Andreevich and Nikita out of
the snow with their shovels, not more than seventy yards from the road and less than half a
mile from the village.
The snow had hidden the sledge, but the shafts and the kerchief tied to them were
still visible. Mukhorty, buried up to his belly in snow, with the breeching and drugget
hanging down, stood all white, his dead head pressed against his frozen throat: icicles
hung from his nostrils, his eyes were covered with hoar-frost as though filled with tears,
and he had grown so thin in that one night that he was nothing but skin and bone.
Vasili Andreevich was stiff as a frozen carcass, and when they rolled him off Nikita
his legs remained apart and his arms stretched out as they had been. His bulging hawk eyes
were frozen, and his open mouth under his clipped moustache was full of snow. But Nikita
though chilled through was still alive. When he had been brought to, he felt sure that he
was already dead and that what was taking place with him was no longer happening in this
world but in the next. When he heard the peasants shouting as they dug him out and rolled
the frozen body of Vasili Andreevich from off him, he was at first surprised that in the
other world peasants should be shouting in the same old way and had the same kind of
body, and then when he realized that he was still in this world he was sorry rather than
glad, especially when he found that the toes on both his feet were frozen.
Nikita lay in hospital for two months. They cut off three of his toes, but the others
recovered so that he was still able to work and went on living for another twenty years,
first as a farm-labourer, then in his old age as a watchman. He died at home as he had
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wished, only this year, under the icons with a lighted taper in his hands. Before he died he
asked his wife's forgiveness and forgave her for the cooper. He also took leave of his son
and grandchildren, and died sincerely glad that he was relieving his son and daughter-in-
law of the burden of having to feed him, and that he was now really passing from this life
of which he was weary into that other life which every year and every hour grew clearer
and more desirable to him. Whether he is better or worse off there where he awoke after
his death, whether he was disappointed or found there what he expected, we shall all soon
learn.
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