Page:The Russian Review Volume 1.djvu/328

294 meekly lowered heads, he sees his wife. A fine woman she was, God rest her soul! She, too, had to undergo unbearable suffering. . . But poverty and grinding toil will soon make her beauty wither; her eyes will grow dull, and the expression of constant fright before life's unexpected blows will replace her beautiful gaze. . . Where is her happiness? . . . One son remained to them, but him, too, human injustice had overcome. ..

And here is he, his wealthy enemy, bowing to the ground, praying for mercy for the orphan tears that are on him; making the sign of the cross, he falls down on his knees, striking the floor with his forehead. . . And Mikheich's heart boils and seethes, and the dark countenances of the icons gaze sternly upon human sorrow, human injustice. ..

All this is past; it has remained far behind. . . Now his whole world is this dark belfry-tower, where the wind whistles in the darkness, swaying the bell ropes. . . "Let God judge them!" whispers the old man, and bows his white head, while tears flow and flow down the bell-ringer's cheeks. ..

"Hey, Mikheich! Have you fallen asleep?" shout people from below.

"Eh?" The old man jumped to his feet. "My God! Did I fall asleep? I've never had such shame!"

Quickly, with his long-accustomed hand, he seizes the bell-ropes. Below, the crowd moves on like a procession of ants; the church banners flutter in the air, shining with their gold ornaments. Now the procession has encircled the church, and Mikheich hears the joyous shouts:

"Christ is risen from the dead . . ."

Like a surging wave, this shout strikes the old man's heart. It seems to Mikheich that the wax candles are burning brighter, that the banners are fluttering feverishly, that the wind has suddenly awakened, caught up the waves of sound, and borne them aloft on its broad wings, mingling them on high with the majestic ringing of the bells.

Never did Mikheich ring as he did that night.

It seemed that his overflowing heart transfused itself into the dead brass, and the peals of the bells sang and trembled and laughed and cried, as they rose upward to the very sky. And the stars burned brighter and brighter, and the sounds trembled and flowed, again falling to the earth and embracing it with a loving caress.

The great brass-bell thundered, hurling into space its