Page 276 - the-brothers-karamazov

him homage saw him sometimes kneeling all day long at
prayer without looking round. If he addressed them, he was
brief, abrupt, strange, and almost always rude. On very rare
occasions, however, he would talk to visitors, but for the
most part he would utter some one strange saying which
was a complete riddle, and no entreaties would induce him
to pronounce a word in explanation. He was not a priest,
but a simple monk. There was a strange belief, chiefly, how-
ever, among the most ignorant, that Father Ferapont had
communication with heavenly spirits and would only con-
verse with them, and so was silent with men.
The monk from Obdorsk, having been directed to the
apiary by the beekeeper, who was also a very silent and sur-
ly monk, went to the corner where Father Ferapont’s cell
stood. ‘Maybe he will speak as you are a stranger and may-
be you’ll get nothing out of him,’ the beekeeper had warned
him. The monk, as he related afterwards, approached in the
utmost apprehension. It was rather late in the evening. Fa-
ther Ferapont was sitting at the door of his cell on a low
bench. A huge old elm was lightly rustling overhead. There
was an evening freshness in the air. The monk from Ob-
dorsk bowed down before the saint and asked his blessing.
‘Do you want me to bow down to you, monk?’ said Father
Ferapont. ‘Get up!’
The monk got up.
‘Blessing, be blessed! Sit beside me. Where have you come
from?’
What most struck the poor monk was the fact that in
spite of his strict fasting and great age, Father Ferapont