80
The Way of the Cross
ows, horses, children's coffins, and again horses, horses, horses.
The head turns giddy looking at the endless movement.
It becomes difficult to breathe because of that which passes before the eyes.
And strange.
In this little town through which comes such an ocean of people, it is as quiet:
As if it were all one great funeral.
I had hardly come into the marketplace before the crowd swirled round me with quick movements and feverish eyes.
Whence had they come to Roslavl? Whence had so many come?
There were all dialects.
Great Russian, Russian with Little Russian accent, with Polish accent.
—Panitch! Do you want horses? You can buy them very reasonably. Ah, so reasonably! A horse that cost a
