"I can, at least, ask about Elisey," he thought. "This is the very hut into which he went to get a drink."

Efim went inside. The woman took off his wallet, gave him water to wash himself, and seated him at the table. She fetched milk, cheese, cakes, and porridge, and placed it all on the table. Tarasych thanked her and praised the people for being hospitable to pilgrims. The woman shook her head.

"We cannot help receiving pilgrims," she said. "We received life from a pilgrim. We lived forgetting G.o.d, and G.o.d punished us in such a way that all of us were waiting for death. Last summer we came to such a point that we were all lying down sick and starved. We should certainly have died, but G.o.d sent us an old man like you. He stepped in during the daytime to get a drink; when he saw us, he took pity on us and remained at our house. He gave us to eat and to drink, and put us on our feet again. He cleared our land from debt, and bought a horse and cart and left it with us."

The old woman entered the room, and interrupted her speech:

"We do not know," she said, "whether he was a man or an angel of the Lord. He was good to us all, and pitied us, and then went away without giving his name, so that we do not know for whom to pray to G.o.d. I see it as though it happened just now: I was lying down and waiting for death to come; I looked up and saw a man come in,--just a simple, bald-headed man,--and ask for a drink. I, sinful woman, thought that he was a tramp, but see what he did! When he saw us he put down his wallet, right in this spot, and opened it."

The girl broke in.

"No, granny," she said, "first he put his wallet in the middle of the room, and only later did he put it on the bench."

And they began to dispute and to recall his words and deeds: where he had sat down, and where he had slept, and what he had done, and what he had said to each.

Toward evening the master of the house came home on a horse, and he, too, began to tell about Elisey, and how he had stayed at their house.

"If he had not come to us," he said, "we should all of us have died in sin. We were dying in despair, and we murmured against G.o.d and men. But he put us on our feet, and through him we found out G.o.d, and began to believe in good people. May Christ save him! Before that we lived like beasts, and he has made men of us."

They gave Efim to eat and to drink, and gave him a place to sleep, and themselves went to bed.

As Efim lay down, he could not sleep, and Elisey did not leave his mind, but he thought of how he had seen him three times in Jerusalem in the foremost place.

"So this is the way he got ahead of me," he thought. "My work may be accepted or not, but his the Lord has accepted."

In the morning Efim bade the people good-bye: they filled his wallet with cakes and went to work, while Efim started out on the road.

XII.

Efim was away precisely a year. In the spring he returned home.

He reached his house in the evening. His son was not at home,--he was in the dram-shop. He returned intoxicated, and Efim began to ask him about the house. He saw by everything that the lad had got into bad ways without him. He had spent all the money, and the business he had neglected. His father scolded him, and he answered his father with rude words.

"You ought to have come back yourself," he said. "Instead, you went away and took all the money with you, and now you make me responsible."

The old man became angry and beat his son.

The next morning Efim Tarasych went to the elder to talk to him about his son. As he pa.s.sed Elisey's farm, Elisey's wife was standing on the porch and greeting him:

"Welcome, friend!" she said. "Did you, dear man, have a successful journey?"

Efim Tarasych stopped.

"Thank G.o.d," he said, "I have been at Jerusalem, but I lost your husband on the way. I hear that he is back."

And the old woman started to talk to him, for she was fond of babbling.

"He is back, my dear; he has been back for quite awhile. He returned soon after a.s.sumption day. We were so glad to see him back. It was lonely without him. Not that we mean his work,--for he is getting old.

But he is the head, and it is jollier for us. How happy our lad was!

Without him, he said, it was as without light for the eyes. It was lonely without him, my dear. We love him so much!"

"Well, is he at home now?"

"At home he is, neighbour, in the apiary, brushing in the swarms. He says it was a fine swarming season. The old man does not remember when there has been such a lot of bees. G.o.d gives us not according to our sins, he says. Come in, dear one! He will be so glad to see you."

Efim walked through the vestibule and through the yard to the apiary, to see Elisey. When he came inside the apiary, he saw Elisey standing without a net, without gloves, in a gray caftan, under a birch-tree, extending his arms and looking up, and his bald spot shone over his whole head, just as he had stood in Jerusalem at the Lord's Sepulchre, and above him, through the birch-tree, the sun glowed, and above his head the golden bees circled in the form of a wreath, and did not sting him. Efim stopped.

Elisey's wife called out to her husband:

"Your friend is here."

Elisey looked around. He was happy, and walked over toward his friend, softly brushing the bees out of his beard.

"Welcome, friend, welcome, dear man! Did you have a successful journey?"

"My feet took me there, and I have brought you some water from the river Jordan. Come and get it! But whether the Lord has received my work--"

"Thank G.o.d! Christ save you!"

Efim was silent.

"I was there with my feet, but in spirit you were there, or somebody else--"

"It is G.o.d's work, my friend, G.o.d's work."

"On my way home I stopped at the hut where I lost you."

Elisey was frightened, and he hastened to say:

"It is G.o.d's work, my friend, G.o.d's work. Well, won't you step in? I will bring some honey."

And Elisey changed the subject, and began to speak of home matters.

Efim heaved a sigh. He did not mention the people of the hut to Elisey, nor what he had seen in Jerusalem. And he understood that G.o.d has enjoined that each man shall before his death carry out his vow--with love and good deeds.

WHERE LOVE IS, THERE G.o.d IS ALSO

1885

WHERE LOVE IS, THERE G.o.d IS ALSO