It was just as if, on a quiet, dark night, Musya was riding along a broad, even road, while the easy springs of the carriage rocked her and the little bells tinkled.

All alarm and agitation had passed, the fatigued body had dissolved in the darkness, and her joyously wearied fancy calmly created bright images, carried away by their color and their peaceful tranquillity.

Musya recalled three of her comrades who had been hanged but a short time before, and their faces seemed bright and happy and near to her--nearer than those in life.

Thus does a man think with joy in the morning of the house of his friends where he is to go in the evening, and a greeting rises to his smiling lips.
Musya became very tired from walking.

She lay down cautiously on the cot and continued to dream with slightly closed eyes.