Page:The Novels of Ivan Turgenev (volume VII).djvu/160

'Please forgive me: I didn't want to send you such a melancholy letter without giving you a little amusement at the end (you'll certainly notice some halting lines . . . but what of it!). When shall I write to you again? Shall I write again? Whatever becomes of me, I am sure you will not forget your faithful friend,

'P.S.—Yes, our people is asleep.. . . But I fancy if anything ever does wake it, it won't be what we are thinking of.. . .'

After writing the last line Nezhdanov flung down the pen, and saying to himself, 'Well, now try to sleep and forget all this rot, rhymester'; he lay down on the bed . . . but it was long before sleep visited his eyes.

Next morning Marianna waked him, passing through his room to Tatyana; but he had only just had time to dress when she came back again. Her face expressed delight and agitation; she seemed excited.

'Do you know, Alyosha, they say that in the T——— district, not far from here, it has begun already!'

'Eh? what has begun? who says so?'

'Pavel. They say the peasants are rising refusing to pay taxes, collecting in mobs.'