“Who is it?” muttered Martin.
“It is I,” said the voice. And out of the dark corner stepped Stepánitch, who smiled and vanishing like a cloud was seen no more.
“It is I,” said the voice again. And out of the darkness stepped the woman with the baby in her arms, and the woman smiled and the baby laughed, and they too vanished.
“It is I,” said the voice once more. And the old woman and the boy with the apple stepped out and both smiled, and then they too vanished.
And Martin’s soul grew glad. He crossed himself, put on his spectacles, and began reading the Gospel just where it had opened; and at the top of the page he read:
“I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in.”
And at the bottom of the page he read:
“Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of these my brethren, even these least, ye did it unto me” (Matthew 25).
And Martin understood that his dream had come true; and that the Saviour had really come to him that day, and he had welcomed him.