As before, nobody was in the garden, and the resounding chatter of the bells was still roaring in the air.

Foma's hands began to tremble, he let go his father's head, and it struck heavily against the ground.

Dark, thick blood began to gush in a narrow stream from his open mouth across his blue cheek.
Foma struck his breast with both hands, and kneeling before the dead body, he wildly cried aloud.

He was trembling with fright, and with eyes like those of a madman he was searching for someone in the verdure of the garden..