“What have you done to your hand?” She remembered the sound she had heard, and seizing the little lamp ran out into the porch. There on the floor she saw the bloody finger. She returned with her face paler than his and was about to speak to him, but he silently passed into the back cell and fastened the door.

“Forgive me!” she said. “How can I atone for my sin?”

“Go away.”

“Let me tie up your hand.”

“Go away from here.”

She dressed hurriedly and silently, and when ready sat waiting in her furs. The sledge-bells were heard outside.

“Father Sergius, forgive me!”

“Go away. God will forgive.”