Collection of Posthumous Articles, Vol. 2

turned in the famous black cloak with red lining, remained to wait for the secret sign, sitting with Nadezhdin on a bench on the Rozhdestvensky Boulevard. The sign was not given for a long time. Nadezhdin lost heart and grew dejected. K. stoically consoled him; the despair and the consolations had a singular effect on Nadezhdin: he dozed off. K. knit his brows and walked gloomily along the boulevard. "She will not come," said Nadezhdin in his sleep, "let us go sleep." K. knit his brows even more, shook his head gloomily, and led the sleepy Nadezhdin home. Behind them, the young woman had also come out onto the porch of her house, and the agreed-upon signal was repeated not once but ten times, and she waited an hour or two; everything was quiet, and she herself, even more quietly, returned to her room; she likely wept, but because of this, she was thoroughly cured of her love for Nadezhdin. K. could not forgive Nadezhdin for this sleepiness for a long time and, shaking his head with a trembling lower lip, would say: "He did not love her!"

K.'s participation during our imprisonment and during my marriage has been told in other places. For the five years that he remained almost alone in Moscow from our circle, from 1834 to 1840, he represented it with pride and valor, guarding our tradition and not changing a jot of it. This is how we found him, some in 1840, some in 1842; in us, exile, the collision with an alien world, reading, and work had changed much. K., our motionless representative, remained the same. Only instead of Schiller, he was translating Shakespeare.

One of the first things K. occupied himself with, extremely pleased that his old friends were gathering in Moscow once again, was the renewal of his censorship of morum morals—and here, the first rough edges appeared, which he did not notice for a long time. His scolding sometimes angered people—which had not happened before—and sometimes it became tiresome. Our former life had boiled so rapidly and proceeded so collectively that no one paid attention