“Serpov⁠—a wayfarer.” They shook hands. “Nothing but ignorance⁠—no education. I admonish Russia in vain. Russia is a fool. The peasant is industrious but Russia is a fool. Don’t you agree? I knew your father. We used to sit and chat, and he would say, ‘You will get on.’ But why are you dressed like that? I am as plainspoken as a soldier, and I ask why?”

“I am going to make a journey on foot.”

“I am on the road myself. I am a wayfarer. I have been all the way to Greece, to the Athos Monastery, but I never saw anyone as honest as our peasants.”

Serpov sat down, asked for vodka, and then went to bed. Borzin was puzzled. Next day Serpov was the listener and, as Borzin liked to talk, Serpov heard all about his theory and the aim of his journey. Serpov thoroughly approved of it, and ended by offering himself as companion, which Borzin accepted; partly because he did not know how to get rid of him; partly because, with all his craziness, Serpov could flatter; partly, and chiefly, because Borzin regarded the monk as a remarkable, though somewhat complicated, phenomenon of Russian life.