"For heaven's sake, what is the matter, Rakhmétof?" cried Kirsánof, in horror.
"It is a trial; it is necessary; it's incredible, of course; however, it is necessary. I see that I can stand it."
Besides what Kirsánof saw, it may be judged from this that the khozyáïka also could relate a great many interesting things about Rakhmétof; but in her capacity of a simple-hearted and simply-dressed old woman, she was out of her wits in regard to him, and, of course, it was impossible to learn anything from her. This time she ran off to get Kirsánof only because Rakhmétof allowed her to do so to calm her. She wept so bitterly, thinking that he was going to commit suicide.
Two months after that was the end of May. Rakhmétof was away for a week or more, but at that time nobody noticed it, because it was a common occurrence for him to vanish in that way. Now Kirsánof told the following story of the way Rakhmétof spent those days. They constituted an erotic episode in Rakhmétof's life. Love arose from an occurrence which was worthy of Nikitushka Lomof. Rakhmétof was going from the first Pargalof into town, lost in thoughts, and looking at the ground in his usual way. He was near the Forestry Institute; he was awakened from his thoughts by the desperate shrieks of a woman; he looked up: a horse attached to a sharaban, in which a lady was riding, was running away. The lady, herself, was driving, but she could not control him; the reins were trailing on the ground, and the horse was within two steps of Rakhmétof. He threw himself in the midst of the way, but the horse was already past him; he had no time to catch the reins; he had only time to catch the hind axle of the sharaban; he brought it to a stop, but it threw him down. A crowd gathered, helped the lady out of the sharaban, and lifted Rakhmétof to his feet. His chest was somewhat bruised, but the worst was that the wheel had torn out a large piece of flesh from his leg. The lady came to herself, and ordered him taken to her datcha, which was within half a verst. He consented because he felt weak from loss of blood, but he asked that Kirsánof should be sent for without fail, and no other doctor. Kirsánof found that the bruises on his chest were not serious, but Rakhmétof was weak from loss of blood. He lay there for ten days. The rescued lady, of course, took care of him herself. He could not do anything else in his weak condi-
