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“Tyeglev!” I cried. “Ilya Stepanitch!! Tyeglev!!”

My voice died away near me without an answer; it seemed as though the fog would not let it go further. “Tyeglev!” I repeated.

No one answered.

I went forward at random. Twice I struck against a fence, once I nearly fell into a ditch, and almost stumbled against a peasant’s horse lying on the ground. “Tyeglev! Tyeglev!” I cried.

All at once, almost behind me, I heard a low voice, “Well, here I am. What do you want of me?”

I turned round quickly.

Before me stood Tyeglev with his hands hanging at his sides and with no cap on his head. His face was pale; but his eyes looked animated and bigger than usual. His breathing came in deep, prolonged gasps through his parted lips.

“Thank God!” I cried in an outburst of joy, and I gripped him by both hands. “Thank God! I was beginning to despair of finding you. Aren’t you ashamed of frightening me like this? Upon my word, Ilya Stepanitch!”

“What do you want of me?” repeated Tyeglev.

“I want … I want you, in the first place, to come back home with me. And secondly, I want, I insist, I insist as a friend, that you explain to me at once the meaning of your actions–and of this letter to the colonel. Can something unexpected have happened to you in Petersburg?”

“I found in Petersburg exactly what I expected,” answered Tyeglev, without moving from the spot.

“That is … you mean to say … your friend … this Masha….”

“She has taken her life,” Tyeglev answered hurriedly and as it were angrily. “She was buried the day before yesterday. She did not even leave a note for me. She poisoned herself.”

Tyeglev hurriedly uttered these terrible words and still stood motionless as a stone.

I clasped my hands. “Is it possible? How dreadful! Your presentiment has come true…. That is awful!”

I stopped in confusion. Slowly and with a sort of triumph Tyeglev folded his arms.

“But why are we standing here?” I began. “Let us go home.”

“Let us,” said Tyeglev. “But how can we find the way in this fog?”

“There is a light in our windows, and we will make for it. Come along.”

“You go ahead,” answered Tyeglev. “I will follow you.” We set off. We walked for five minutes and our beacon light still did not appear; at last it gleamed before us in two red points. Tyeglev stepped evenly behind me. I was desperately anxious to get home as quickly as possible and to learn from him all the details of his unhappy expedition to Petersburg. Before we reached the hut, impressed by what he had said, I confessed to him in an access of remorse and a sort of superstitious fear, that the mysterious knocking of the previous evening had been my doing … and what a tragic turn my jest had taken!

Tyeglev confined himself to observing that I had nothing to do with it–that something else had guided my hand–and this only showed how little I knew him. His voice, strangely calm and even, sounded close to my ear. “But you do not know me,” he added. “I saw you smile yesterday when I spoke of the strength of my will. You will come to know me–and you will remember my words.”

The first hut of the village sprang out of the fog before us like some dark monster … then the second, our hut, emerged–and my setter dog began barking, probably scenting me.

I knocked at the window. “Semyon!” I shouted to Tyeglev’s servant, “hey, Semyon! Make haste and open the gate for us.”

The gate creaked and opened; Semyon crossed the threshold.

“Ilya Stepanitch, come in,” I said, and I looked round. But no Ilya Stepanitch was with me. Tyeglev had vanished as though he had sunk into the earth.

I went into the hut feeling dazed.

XIV

Vexation with Tyeglev and with myself succeeded the amazement with which I was overcome at first.