“Don’t worry, I’ll do some good business there, make a nice little profit and then I can bring you back some expensive presents!”
“This morning the merchant was found in bed with his throat cut. No one else but you could have done it. The hut was locked on the inside and no one else was there. And now we find this bloodstained knife in your bag. I can see you’re guilty from your face. Come on, tell me how you murdered him and how much money you stole.”
“Obviously, no one except God can know the truth… only from Him should I ask help, from Him alone can I expect mercy.”
“To pay for my sins I’ve done twenty-six years penal servitude.”
“It’s obvious the murderer was the one in whose bag the knife was found. If someone planted a knife on you he hasn’t been caught—no man is a thief until he’s caught! And how could anyone have slipped a knife into your bag? He’d have had to be standing right at the head of your bed—and then you’d have heard him.”
“I could cover up for him, but why should I forgive the man who ruined me? […] Let him pay the price for all my suffering. On the other hand, they’re bound to flog him if I testify against him. And what if my suspicions are wrong? Would it make me feel any easier?”
[…]
“I saw nothing and I know nothing.”
“Ivan Dmitriyevich, forgive me. For God’s sake forgive me! I’ll confess to the murder and they’ll grant you a pardon. Then you’ll be able to go home.”
“It’s easy enough for you to go and tell them, but just think what I’ll have to endure! Where shall I go? My wife’s dead, my children will have forgotten me. I’ve nowhere to go…”
“Ivan Dmitriyevich! Forgive me! […] The flogging they gave me was easier to bear than looking at you now! When I think how you took pity on me and didn’t inform. Oh, forgive me for Christ’s sake! Forgive me—I’m such a rotten bastard!”
“God will forgive you. […] Perhaps I’m a hundred times worse.”
