finger hit one of the beams of the wall. It emitted a faint but
resounding, and as it were, prolonged note.... I must have struck a
hollow place.
I tapped again ... this time on purpose. The same sound was repeated.
I knocked again.... All at once Tyeglev raised his head.
"Ridel!" he said, "do you hear? Someone is knocking under the window."
I pretended to be asleep. The fancy suddenly took me to play a trick
at the expense of my "fatal" friend. I could not sleep, anyway.
He let his head sink on the pillow. I waited for a little and again
knocked three times in succession.
Tyeglev sat up again and listened. I tapped again. I was lying facing
him but he could not see my hand.... I put it behind me under the
bedclothes.
"Ridel!" cried Tyeglev.
I did not answer.
"Ridel!" he repeated loudly. "Ridel!"
"Eh? What is it?" I said as though just waking up.
"Don't you hear, someone keeps knocking under the window, wants to
come in, I suppose."
"Some passer-by," I muttered.
"Then we must let him in or find out who it is."
But I made no answer, pretending to be asleep.
Several minutes passed.... I tapped again. Tyeglev sat up at once and
listened.
"Knock ... knock ... knock! Knock ... knock ... knock!"
Through my half-closed eyelids in the whitish light of the night I
could distinctly see every movement he made. He turned his face first
to the window then to the door. It certainly was difficult to make out
where the sound came from: it seemed to float round the room, to glide
along the walls. I had accidentally hit upon a kind of sounding board.
"Ridel!" cried Tyeglev at last, "Ridel! Ridel!"
"Why, what is it?" I asked, yawning.
"Do you mean to say you don't hear anything? There is someone
knocking."
"Well, what if there is?" I answered and again pretended to be asleep
and even snored.
Tyeglev subsided.
"Knock ... knock ... knock!"
"Who is there?" Tyeglev shouted. "Come in!"
No one answered, of course.
"Knock ... knock ... knock!"
Tyeglev jumped out of bed, opened the window and thrusting out his
head, cried wildly, "Who is there? Who is knocking?" Then he
opened the door and repeated his question. A horse neighed in the
distance--that was all.
He went back towards his bed.
"Knock ... knock ... knock!"
Tyeglev instantly turned round and sat down.
"Knock ... knock ... knock!"
He rapidly put on his boots, threw his overcoat over his shoulders and
unhooking his sword from the wall, went out of the hut. I heard him
walk round it twice, asking all the time, "Who is there? Who goes
there? Who is knocking?" Then he was suddenly silent, stood still
outside near the corner where I was lying and without uttering another
word, came back into the hut and lay down without taking off his boots
and overcoat.
"Knock ... knock ... knock!" I began again. "Knock ... knock ...
knock!"
But Tyeglev did not stir, did not ask who was knocking, and merely
propped his head on his hand.
Seeing that this no longer acted, after an interval I pretended to
wake up and, looking at Tyeglev, assumed an air of astonishment.
"Have you been out?" I asked.
"Yes," he answered unconcernedly.
"Did you still hear the knocking?"
"Yes."
"And you met no one?"
"No."
"And did the knocking stop?"
"I don't know. I don't care now."
"Now? Why now?"
Tyeglev did not answer.
I felt a little ashamed and a little vexed with him. I could not bring
myself to acknowledge my prank, however.
"Do you know what?" I began, "I am convinced that it was all your
imagination."
Tyeglev frowned. "Ah, you think so!"
"You say you heard a knocking?"
"It was not only knocking I heard."
"Why, what else?"
Tyeglev bent forward and bit his lips. He was evidently hesitating.
"I was called!" he brought out at last in a low voice and turned away
his face.
"You were called? Who called you?"
"Someone...." Tyeglev still looked away. "A woman whom I had hitherto
only believed to be dead ... but now I know it for certain."
"I swear, Ilya Stepanitch," I cried, "this is all your imagination!"
"Imagination?" he repeated. "Would you like to hear it for yourself?"
"Yes."
"Then come outside."
VIII
I hurriedly dressed and went out of the hut with Tyeglev. On the side
opposite to it there were no houses, nothing but a low hurdle fence
broken down in places, beyond which there was a rather sharp slope
down to the plain. Everything was still shrouded in mist and one could
scarcely see anything twenty paces away. Tyeglev and I went up to the
hurdle and stood still.
"Here," he said and bowed his head. "Stand still, keep quiet and
listen!"
Like him I strained my ears, and I heard nothing except the ordinary,
extremely faint but universal murmur, the breathing of the night.
Looking at each other in silence from time to time we stood motionless
for several minutes and were just on the point of going on.
"Ilyusha..." I fancied I heard a whisper from behind the hurdle.
I glanced at Tyeglev but he seemed to have heard nothing--and still
held his head bowed.
"Ilyusha ... ah, Ilyusha," sounded more distinctly than before--so
distinctly that one could tell that the words were uttered by a woman.
We both started and stared at each other.
"Well?" Tyeglev asked me in a whisper. "You won't doubt it now, will
you?"
"Wait a minute," I answered as quietly. "It proves nothing. We must
look whether there isn't anyone. Some practical joker...."
I jumped over the fence--and went in the direction from which, as far
as I could judge, the voice came.
I felt the earth soft and crumbling under my feet; long ridges
stretched before me vanishing into the mist. I was in the kitchen
garden. But nothing was stirring around me or before me. Everything
seemed spellbound in the numbness of sleep. I went a few steps
further.
"Who is there?" I cried as wildly as Tyeglev had.
"Prrr-r-r!" a startled corn-crake flew up almost under my feet and
flew away as straight as a bullet. Involuntarily I started.... What
foolishness!
I looked back. Tyeglev was in sight at the spot where I left him. I
went towards him.
"You will call in vain," he said. "That voice has come to us--to