spected them to make sure they were not false. They proved to be correct; the bowls hung motionless, without movement up or down.
To tell the truth, he did not exactly understand their mechanism, and would have preferred to have done business with the simple balances by whose aid he had learned to buy and sell with great profit to himself during the course of his long life.
"The Toyon is coming!" cried Father Ivan suddenly, and hastily began to pull his cassock straight.
The central door opened and in came an ancient, venerable Toyon, his long silvery beard hanging below his waist. He was dressed in rich furs and tissues unknown to Makar, and on his feet he wore warm velvet-lined boots, such as Makar had seen depicted on antique ikons.
Makar recognised him at a glance as the same old greybeard whose picture he had seen in church, only here he was unattended by his son. Makar decided that the latter must have gone out on business. The dove flew into the room, however, and after circling about the old man's head, settled upon his knee. The old Toyon stroked the dove with his hand as he sat on the seat that had been especially prepared for him.
The Toyon's face was kind, and when Makar became too downcast he looked at it and felt better.
His heart was heavy because he was suddenly remembering all his past life down to the smallest
