Thought, till then locked up, began to stir in Levin's head, but he made haste to drive it away.

" It will come right somehow," he thought, and went towards the altar-rails.

He went up the steps, and turning to the right saw the priest.

The priest, a little old man with a scanty grizzled beard and weary, good-natured eyes, was standing at the altar-rails, turning over the pages of a missal.

With a slight bow to Levin he began immediately reading prayers in the official voice.