"I told you so. We started too early."
"The sun rises at five."
"That's right, at five: we should have waited."
They halted in the twilight. Near by, behind the trees, whose huge shadows were waving on the ground, swung silently two lanterns. There the gallows had been erected.
"I have lost one of my rubbers," said Sergey.
"Well?" asked Werner, not understanding.
"I have lost it. I am cold."
"Where is Vasily?"
"I don't know. There he is."
Vasily was standing close by them, gloomy and motionless.
"Where is Musya?"
"Here I am. Is that you, Werner?"
They looked at each other, their eyes avoiding the silent and terrible significant swaying of the lanterns. At the left the thin forest seemed to be growing lighter. And beyond, something vast and gray and flat appeared, whence came a moist breeze.
"That is the sea," said Sergey, sucking in the damp air. "That is the sea."
Musya answered by a line from the song:
"My love as broad as is the sea."
"What did you say, Musya?"
"The shores of life cannot contain
My love as broad as is the sea."
"'My love as broad as is the sea,'" repeated Sergey, pensively.
