Soon after discovering the fact that it was Semyonich who had murdered the merchant, he became terribly unhappy. A kaleidoscope of images of his own past life flooded his mind. In his mind’s eye, he saw the youthful image of his lovely wife. Her face and eyes rose before him. He heard her speak and laugh. He saw his little children, one with his little cloak on suckling at his mother’s breast. Then he remembered his own merry-go lucky life in his youth.
He vividly remembered how happily he was playing the guitar at the inn without any worry. He remembered how he was arrested, flogged in the presence of his villagers. He recalled how shamefully he was chained and convicted. He remembered how he had to spend twenty six long years in Siberia and attain premature old age. He felt so wretched that he wanted to take away his own life.
