50

In the morning, at a little light, they set out on their journey. Dimitri sullenly looked at the passing forests and fields. There was no trace of his yesterday's euphoria. Yes, he escaped, but at the same time he lost his life, and now a monastic cell awaits him in a strange, frightening country.

- What are you, my father, are you all silent? How he found that Pole, he has not said a word since.

Dimitri's eyes filled with tears.

- How do you know that he is a Pole? - he whispered, trying to imitate the Russian pronunciation.

- You can see it in clothes. Nothing to kill, really. Haven't you fallen ill?

- No, it's just sad.

- Well, well, - Mikhail stroked his head, - don't cry. Of course, it’s hard to stay without a mother, and they say you love your uncles too. Nothing, God willing, see you again.

Deciding that this was a good opportunity to find out something, Dimitri sobbed and asked:

- When?

“But who knows,” Mikhail Nikitich sighed, “the Lord alone knows. But you are no longer smal