Several times during that short night, in which the evening twilight melted into the twilight of dawn, Albína left the inn, and, passing through a passage which smelt foully, came out into the back porch. The Cossack did not sleep, but sat in the empty cart beside the tarantass, with his legs hanging down. Only just before daybreak, when the cocks were already awake and crowing to one another from yard to yard, Albína went down and found time to speak to her husband. The Cossack, lying stretched out in the cart, was snoring. She came carefully up to the tarantass, and knocked at the box.

“Josy!”

No answer.

“Josy! Josy!” she said louder, quite frightened.

“What’s the matter?” asked Migoúrski, in a sleepy voice, inside the box.

“Why didn’t you answer?”