Leaving the boulevard behind them, they passed along the dreary streets

lying outside the town, though they were better lighted than the

boulevard. The wood-pavement stood out clearly against the black

ground, and above loomed the pale cloud-covered heaven, where here and

there stars gleamed.

"Here we are," said Von Deitz as he opened a low door and disappeared

through it. Immediately afterwards they heard the hoarse bark of a dog,

and a voice exclaiming, "Lie down, Sultan." Before them lay a large

empty courtyard at the farther side of which they discerned a black

mass. It was a steam mill, and its narrow chimney pointed sadly to the

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sky. Round about it were dark sheds, but no trees, except in a small

garden in front of the adjoining house. Through an open window a ray of

light touched their green leaves.

"A dismal kind of place," said Sanine.

"I suppose the mill has been here a long while?" asked Yourii.

"Oh! yes, for ever so long!" replied Von Deitz who, as he passed,

looked through the lighted window, and in a tone of satisfaction said,

"Oho! Quite a lot of people, already."

Yourii and Sanine also looked in at the window and saw heads moving in

a dim cloud of blue smoke. A broad-shouldered man with curly hair leant

over the sill and called out, "Who's there?"

"Friends!" replied Yourii.

As they went up the steps they pushed against some one who shocks hands

with them in friendly fashion.

"I was afraid that you wouldn't come!" said a cheery voice in a strong

Jewish accent.

"Soloveitchik--Sanine," said Von Deitz, introducing the two, and

grasping the former's cold, trembling hand.

Soloveitchik laughed nervously.

"So pleased to meet you!" he said. "I have heard so much about you,

and, you know--" He stumbled backwards still holding Sanine's hand. In

doing so he fell Against Yourii, and trod on Von Deitz's foot.

"I beg your pardon, Jakof Adolfovitch!" he exclaimed, as he proceeded

to shake Von Deitz's hand with great energy. Thus it was some time

before in the darkness they could find the door. In the ante-room, on

tows of nails put up specially for this evening by orderly

Soloveitchik, hung hats and caps, while close to the window were dark

green bottles containing beer. Even the ante-room was filled with

smoke.

In the light Soloveitchik appeared to be a young dark-eyed Jew with

curly hair, small features, and bad teeth which, as he was continually

smiling, were always displayed.




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