eight months later she was tried. She sat, I remember, in the dock in a grey gown with a white handkerchief on her head — thin, pale, sharp-eyed, the picture of misery. And behind her a soldier with a rifle! Of course she denied it. Some said she'd poisoned her husband ; others argued that he had poisoned himself from grief. Anyway, I was a witness. When they questioned me I told them the honest truth. ‘She was a sinful woman,’ I told them. ‘She did not love her husband — it's no use hiding it. She was an obstinate woman. . . .’ The trial began in the morning and didn't end till night. It was penal servitude in Siberia, thirteen years of it.
“Mashenka remained in our local gaol three months after trial. I used to go and see her. I was sorry for her, and would bring her tea and sugar. . . . And she — I remember — when she caught sight of me, would wring her hands, and mutter, ‘Go away! Go away.’ And Kuzka would press himself to her dress, as if he feared I might take him. ‘Look !’ I would say to Mashenka. ‘See what you've brought yourself to! Ahh, Masha, Masha, perishing soul! When I tried to teach you reason, you wouldn't listen; so weep now! It is you yourself,’ I would say, ‘who are guilty; accuse yourself!’ And I spoke edification to her; but the only words she answered were, ‘Go away! Go away!’ Then she'd press little Kuzka to the wall, and tremble all over. Well! When she was taken
