"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?"