Finally, a dazzling ray shot across the pools on the road, shot through the threads of rain — now falling thin and straight, as from a sieve — , and fell upon the fresh leaves and blades of grass.

The great cloud was still louring black and threatening on the far horizon, but I no longer felt afraid of it — I felt only an inexpressibly pleasant hopefulness in proportion, as trust in life replaced the late burden of fear. Indeed, my heart was smiling like that of refreshed, revivified Nature herself.

Vassili took off his cloak and wrung the water from it. Woloda flung back the apron, and I stood up in the britchka to drink in the new, fresh, balm-laden air. In front of us was the carriage, rolling along and looking as wet and resplendent in the sunlight as though it had