'Then the commander-in-chief jerked out: "Hang him!" spurred his horse, and moved on, first at a walking-pace, then at a quick trot. The whole staff hurried after him; only one adjutant turned round on his saddle and took a passing glance at Yegor.

'To disobey was impossible.... Yegor was seized at once and led off to execution.

Dream Tales and Prose Poems — Part 124

'Then he broke down altogether, and simply gasped out twice, "Gracious heavens! gracious heavens!" and then in a whisper, "God knows, it wasn't me!"

Dream Tales and Prose Poems — Part 124

'Bitterly, bitterly he cried, saying good-bye to me. I was in despair. "Yegor! Yegor!" I cried, "how came it you said nothing to the general?"

Dream Tales and Prose Poems — Part 124

'"God knows, it wasn't me!" the poor fellow repeated, sobbing. The woman herself was horrified. She had never expected such a dreadful termination, and she started howling on her own account! She fell to imploring all and each for mercy, swore the hens had been found, that she was ready to clear it all up....

'Of course, all that was no sort of use. Those were war-times, sir! Discipline! The woman sobbed louder and louder.

'Yegor, who had received absolution from the priest, turned to me.

'"Tell her, your honour, not to upset herself.... I've forgiven her."'

My acquaintance, as he repeated this, his servant's last words, murmured, 'My poor Yegor, dear fellow, a real saint!' and the tears trickled down his old cheeks.

What shall I think when I come to die, if only I am in a condition to think anything then?

Shall I think how little use I have made of my life, how I have slumbered, dozed through it, how little I have known how to enjoy its gifts?

'What? is this death? So soon? Impossible! Why, I have had no time to do anything yet.... I have only been making ready to begin!'

Shall I recall the past, and dwell in thought on the few bright moments I have lived through--on precious images and faces?

Will my ill deeds come back to my mind, and will my soul be stung by the burning pain of remorse too late?

Shall I think of what awaits me beyond the grave ... and in truth does anything await me there?

No.... I fancy I shall try not to think, and shall force myself to take interest in some trifle simply to distract my own attention from the menacing darkness, which is black before me.