That one look was enough to make Simon fond of the man. He threw the felt boots on the ground undid his sash, laid it on the boots, and took off his cloth coat.
'It's not a time for talking,' said he. 'Come, put this coat on at once!'
And Simon took the man by the elbows and helped him to rise. As he stood there, Simon saw that his body was clean and in good condition, his hands and feet shapely, and his face good and kind. He threw his coat over the man's shoulders but the latter could not find the sleeves. Simon guided his arms into them, and drawing the coat well on trapped it closely about him, tying the sash round the man's waist.
Simon even took off his torn cap to put it on the man's head, but then his own head felt cold, and he thought: 'I'm quite bald, while he has long curly hair.' So he put his cap on his own head again.
'It will be better to give him something for his feet,' thought he; and he made the man sit down, and helped him to put on the felt boots, saying, 'There, friend, now move about and warm yourself. Other matters can be settled later on. Can you walk?'
The man stood up and looked kindly at Simon, but could not say a word.
'Why don't you speak?' said Simon. 'It's too cold to stay here; we must be getting home. There now, take my stick, and if you're feeling weak, lean on that. Now step out!'
The man started walking, and moved easily, not lagging behind.
As they went along, Simon asked him, 'And where do you belong to?'
'I'm not from these parts.'
'I thought as much. I know the folks hereabouts. But how did you come to be there by the shrine?'
'I cannot tell.'
'Has some one been ill-treating you?'
'No one has ill-treated me. God has punished me.
'Of course God rules all. Still, you'll have to find food and shelter somewhere. Where do you want to go to?'
'It is all the same to me.'
Simon was amazed. The man did not look like a rogue, and he spoke gently, but yet he gave no account of himself. Still Simon thought, 'Who knows what may have happened?' And he said to the stranger:
'Well then, come home with me, and at least warm yourself awhile.'
So Simon walked towards his home, and the stranger kept up with him, walking at his side. The wind had risen and Simon felt it cold under his shirt. He was getting over his tipsiness by now, and began to feel the frost. He went along sniffling and wrapping his wife's coat round him, and he thought to himself: 'There now -- talk about sheepskins! I went out for sheepskins and come home without even a coat to my back and what is more, I'm bringing a naked man along with me. Matryóna won't be pleased!' And when he thought of his wife he felt sad; but when he looked at the stranger and remembered how he had looked up at him at the shrine, his heart was glad.
III
Simon's wife had everything ready early that day. She had cut wood, brought water, fed the children eaten her own meal, and now she sat thinking. She wondered when she ought to make bread: now or to-morrow? There was still a large piece left.
'If Simon has had some dinner in town,' thought she, and does not eat much for supper, the bread will last out another day.'
She weighed the piece of bread in her hand again and again, and thought:
'I won't make any more to-day. We have only enough flour left to bake one batch. We can manage to make this last out till Friday.'
So Matryóna put away the bread, and sat down at the table to patch her husband's shirt. While she worked she thought how her husband was buying skins for a winter coat.
'If only the dealer does not cheat him. My good man is much too ******; he cheats nobody, but any child can take him in. Eight roubles is a lot of money -- he should get a good coat at that price.
Not tanned skins, but still a proper winter coat. How difficult it was last winter to get on without a warm coat. I could neither get down to the river, nor go out anywhere. When he went out he put on all we had, and there was nothing left for me. He did not start very early to-day, but still it's time he was back. I only hope he has not gone on the spree!'
Hardly had Matryóna thought this, when steps were heard on the threshold, and some one entered. Matryóna stuck her needle into her work and went out into the passage. There she saw two men:
Simon, and with him a man without a hat, and wearing felt boots.
Matryóna noticed at once that her husband smelt of spirits. 'There now, he has been drinking,' thought she. And when she saw that he was coatless, had only her jacket on, brought no parcel, stood there silent, and seemed ashamed, her heart was ready to break with disappointment. 'He has drunk the money,' thought she, 'and has been on the spree with some good-for-nothing fellow whom he has brought home with him.'
Matryóna let them pass into the hut, followed them in, and saw that the stranger was a young, slight man, wearing her husband's coat. There was no shirt to be seen under it, and he had no hat. Having entered, he stood neither moving, nor raising his eyes, and Matryóna thought: 'He must be a bad man -- he's afraid.'
Matryóna frowned, and stood beside the oven looking to see what they would do.
Simon took off his cap and sat down on the bench as if things were all right.
'Come, Matryóna; if supper is ready, let us have some.'
Matryóna muttered something to herself and did not move, but stayed where she was, by the oven. She looked first at the one and then at the other of them, and only shook her head. Simon saw that his wife was annoyed, but tried to pass it off.
Pretending not to notice anything, he took the stranger by the arm.
'Sit down, friend,' said he, 'and let us have some supper.'
The stranger sat down on the bench.
'Haven't you cooked anything for us?' said Simon.
Matryóna's anger boiled over. 'I've cooked, but not for you.
It seems to me you have drunk your wits away. You went to buy a sheep-skin coat, but come home without so much as the coat you had on, and bring a naked vagabond home with you. I have no supper for drunkards like you.'
'That's enough, Matryóna. Don't wag your tongue without reason!
