We worked in silence. I cannot say now whether at that time I had in mind the criminal code, morality, the rights of property, and the other things that, in the opinion of the well-informed, one must remember every moment of one’s life. To be as truthful as possible, I must confess that I was so busy digging under the stall that I completely forgot about everything except what could be found in the stall.

With the advance of evening, the cold, damp, unwholesome darkness was thickening around us. The noise of the waves seemed to be somewhat muffled, but the rain thrummed against the boards of the stall more loudly and heavily.…The rattle of the night-watchman could already be heard.…

“Does it have a floor or not?” asked my helper in a low voice. I did not understand what she was talking about, and I said nothing.

“I say, does the stall have a floor? If it does, we’re working for nothing. Suppose we do dig a pit and then we find heavy boards.…How are we going to pry them loose? It’s better to break the lock…it isn’t much of a lock.”

Good ideas rarely enter women’s heads, but, as you see, they do enter sometimes. I have always prized good ideas and as far as possible have tried to take advantage of them.

Having located the padlock, I pulled at it and wrenched it off together with the rings. My accomplice immediately stooped and wriggled like a snake into the square opening of the stall. From within came her approving voice:

“Good work!”

The smallest praise from a woman is dearer to me than a paean from a man, even if he have the eloquence of all the ancient orators taken together. But in those days I was less appreciative than I am now, and without paying any attention to the girl’s compliment I asked her curtly and anxiously:

“Anything there?”

She began to enumerate her discoveries monotonously:

“A basket with bottles, empty sacks, an umbrella, an iron pail.”

All this was not edible. I felt that my hopes were sinking.…Suddenly she cried excitedly:

“Aha! There it is!”

“What?”

“Bread…a loaf…only it’s wet…take it!”

A loaf rolled to my feet and after it herself, my valiant accomplice. I had already broken off a piece, stuffed it into my mouth, and was chewing it…

“Give me some!…And we must get out of here. Where shall we go?” She peered into the wet, noisy darkness in every direction.

“There’s a boat turned over, there. Shall we go to it?”

“Let’s!” And we set off, tearing our booty to pieces as we went, and stuffing them into our mouths.…The rain was falling more heavily, the river roared; a long-drawn-out, mocking whistle sounded from far away, as though some fearless giant were hissing all earthly institutions and this wretched autumn evening, and us, its two heroes. The whistling made my heart ache; nevertheless I ate greedily, and so did the girl, who walked to the left of me.