Sanine

The latter had not gone far, walking slowly and stooping as he coughed.

His black shadow followed him along the moonlit road. Yourii soon

overtook him and at once noticed how changed he was. During supper

Semenoff had joked and laughed more perhaps than anyone else, but now

he walked along, gloomy and self-absorbed, and in his hollow cough

there was something hopeless and threatening like the disease from

which he suffered.

"Ah! it's you!" he said, somewhat peevishly, as Yourii thought.

"I wasn't sleepy. I'll walk back with you, if you like."

"Yes, do!" replied Semenoff, carelessly.

"Aren't you cold?" asked Yourii, merely because this distressing cough

made him nervous.

"I am always cold," replied Semenoff irritably.

Yourii felt pained, as if he had purposely touched a sore point.

"Is it a long while since you left the University?" he asked.

Semenoff did not immediately reply.

"A long while," he said, at last.

Yourii then spoke of the feeling that actually existed among the

students and of what they considered most important and essential. He

began simply and impassively, but by degrees let himself go, expressing

himself with fervour and point.

Semenoff said nothing, and listened.

Then Yourii deplored the lack of revolutionary spirit among the masses.

It was plain that he felt this deeply.

"Did you read Bebel's last speech?" he asked.

"Yes, I did," replied Semenoff.

"Well, what do you say?"

Semenoff irritably flourished his stick, which had a crooked handle.

His shadow similarly waved a long black arm which made Yourii think of

the black wings of some infuriated bird of prey.

"What do I say?" he blurted out. "I say that I am going to die."

And again he waved his stick and again the sinister shadow imitated his

gesture. This time Semenoff also noticed it.

"Do you see?" said he bitterly. "There, behind me, stands Death,

watching my every movement. What's Bebel to me? Just a babbler, who

babbles about this. And then some other fool will babble about that. It

is all the same to me! If I don't die to-day, I shall die to-morrow."

Yourii made no answer. He felt confused and hurt.

"You, for instance," continued Semenoff, "you think that it's very

important, all this that goes on at the University, and what Bebel

says. But what I think is that, if you knew for certain, as I do, that

you were going to die you would not care in the least what Bebel or

Nietzsche or Tolstoi or anybody else said."