was very foul. He looked round, and saw a woman lying on the floor behind the oven: she lay flat on the ground with her eyes closed and her throat rattling, now stretching out a leg, now dragging it in, tossing from side to side; and the foul smell came from her. Evidently she could do nothing for herself and no one had been attending to her needs. The old woman lifted her head, and saw the stranger.
'What do you want?' said she. 'What do you want, man? We have nothing.'
Elisha understood her, though she spoke in the Little-Russian dialect.
'I came in for a drink of water, servant of God,' he said.
'There's no one—no one—we have nothing to fetch it in. Go your way.'
Then Elisha asked:
'Is there no one among you, then, well enough to attend to that woman?'
'No, we have no one. My son is dying outside, and we are dying in here.'
The little boy had ceased crying when he saw the stranger, but when the old woman began to speak, he began again, and clutching hold of her sleeve cried:
'Bread, Granny, bread.'
Elisha was about to question the old woman, when the man staggered into the hut. He came along the passage, clinging to the wall, but as he was entering the dwelling-room he fell in the corner near the threshold, and without trying to get up again to reach the bench, he began to speak in broken words. He brought out a word at a time, stopping to draw breath, and gasping.
'Illness has seized us . . . ,' said he, 'and famine. He is dying . . . of hunger.'
And he motioned towards the boy, and began to sob.
Elisha jerked up the sack behind his shoulder and, pulling the straps off his arms, put it on the floor. Then he lifted it on to the bench, and untied the strings. Having opened the sack, he took out a loaf of bread,
