Sanine

"There's not much doubt about that," replied Sanine. "It would have

been difficult for a man like Sarudine to get out of the mess unless he

killed me, or I killed him. But, as regards killing me, he missed the

psychological moment, so to speak; and at present he's not in a fit

condition to do me harm. Later on he won't have the pluck. He's played

his part."

"And you calmly tell me all this?"

"What do you mean by 'calmly?'" asked Sanine. "I couldn't look on

calmly and see a chicken killed, much less a man. It was painful to me

to hit him. To be conscious of one's own strength is pleasant, of

course, but it was nevertheless a horrible experience--horrible,

because such an act in itself was brutal. Yet my conscience is calm. I

was but the instrument of fate. Sarudine has come to grief because the

whole bent of his life was bound to bring about a catastrophe; and the

marvel is that others of his sort do not share his fate. These are the

men who learn to kill their fellow-creatures and to pamper their own

bodies, not knowing why or wherefore. They are lunatics, idiots! Let

them loose, and they would cut their own throats and those of other

folk as well. Am I to blame because I protected myself from a madman of

this type?"

"Yes, but you have killed him," was Soloveitchik's obstinate reply.

"In that case you had better appeal to the good God who made us meet."

"You could have stopped him by seizing hold of his hands."

Sanine raised his head.

"In a moment like that one doesn't reflect. And how would that have

helped matters? His code of honour demanded revenge at any price. I

could not have held his hands for ever. It would only have been an

additional insult, nothing more."

Soloveitchik limply waved his hand, and did not reply. Imperceptibly

the darkness closed round them. The fires of sunset paled, and beneath

the deserted sheds the shadows grew deeper, as if in these lonely

places mysterious, dreadful beings were about to take up their abode

during the night. Their noiseless footsteps may have made Sultan

uneasy, for he suddenly crept out of his kennel and sat in front of it,

rattling his chain.

"Perhaps you're right," observed Soloveitchik sadly, "but was it

absolutely necessary? Would it not have been better if you had borne

the blow?"

"Better?" said Sanine. "A blow's always a painful thing. And why? For

what reason?"