natured subtle raillery. The fingers of the small hands covered
with red hairs were bent inward, and the nails were dyed red.

Lukashka had not yet dressed. He was wet. His neck was redder and
his eyes brighter than usual, his broad jaws twitched, and from
his healthy body a hardly perceptible steam rose in the fresh
morning air.

'He too was a man!' he muttered, evidently admiring the corpse.

'Yes, if you had fallen into his hands you would have had short
shrift,' said one of the Cossacks.

The Angel of Silence had taken wing. The Cossacks began bustling
about and talking. Two of them went to cut brushwood for a
shelter, others strolled towards the cordon. Luke and Nazarka ran
to get ready to go to the village.

Half an hour later they were both on their way homewards, talking
incessantly and almost running through the dense woods which
separated the Terek from the village.

'Mind, don't tell her I sent you, but just go and find out if her
husband is at home,' Luke was saying in his shrill voice.

'And I'll go round to Yamka too,' said the devoted Nazarka. 'We'll
have a spree, shall we?'

'When should we have one if not to-day?' replied Luke.