X + 

About two years passed, before I again met my former companions. + 

One hot summer’s day, I had crossed the Volga on a ferry and a pair of horses was dragging us over the sands of the bank to the foot of a hill. The sun had set, but it was intolerably hot. It seemed as if whole waves of heat were being wafted from the gleaming river. Flies hung in clouds over the horses, the bells rang unevenly, and the wheels dragged in the deep sand.⁠ ⁠… Halfway up the hill a monastery nestled among the trees and as it looked down on the river out of the rising mist, it seemed to be suspended in midair. + 

Suddenly the coachman stopped his weary team at the very foot of the hill and ran along the bank. A quarter of a verst away on the rocky and pebbly edge of the river was a black group of people directly between us and the sun. + 

“Something’s happened,” said my companion. + 

I got out and also walked up to the place. + 

A dead body was lying on the bare bank, against which the water was splashing lazily. When I came nearer, I recognized in it my old acquaintance: the little wanderer was lying in his cassock, on his stomach, with outstretched hands and with his head turned at an unnatural angle. He was pale as death; his black hair had fallen over his forehead and temples, and his mouth was half open. I involuntarily recalled that face, as it was when it was filled with childish delight over the singing of the little bird on the hilltop. With his long, sharp nose and his open mouth⁠—he reminded me greatly of a tortured and stifled bird. + 

Avtonomov sat swaying back and forth beside him and seemed frightened. There was a perceptible odor of wine in the air.⁠ ⁠… + 

Glancing at the people who were coming up and not recognizing me, he suddenly pulled the dead body. + 

“Get up, comrade, it’s time to be going.⁠ ⁠… A wanderer’s fate is to wander always.” + 

He spoke in a very bombastic manner, but he rose uncertainly.⁠ ⁠… + 

“Don’t you want to? Look, Vanya, I’ll leave you! I’ll go off alone.⁠ ⁠…” + 

A village chief, with a medal on his chest, hurried up to the group and laid one hand on Avtonomov’s shoulder. + 

“Stop, don’t go away.⁠ ⁠… You’ve got to make a statement.⁠ ⁠… What sort of people are you?” + 

Avtonomov, with ironical humility, took off his cap and bowed. + 

“Please be so kind, your village excellency.⁠ ⁠…” + 

Above our heads sounded a peal of the bell. The monks were being summoned to vespers. The peal echoed, disturbed the heated air, and rolled above the leafy tops of the oaks and black poplars beside the monastery and as it died away, it fell to the sleepy river. The sound increased again, as it struck the water, and a keen eye could almost follow its flight to the other bank, to the bluish, mist-wrapped meadows. + 

All removed their hats. Avtonomov turned toward the sound and shook his fist in the air. + 

“Listen, Vanya,” he said, “your father superior is calling you.⁠ ⁠… Your benefactor.⁠ ⁠… Now he’ll receive you, I know.⁠ ⁠…” + 

Peal after peal, rapid and repeated, ringing and quavering, fell down upon the river solemnly and quietly.⁠ ⁠… + 