He recalled the words said by the old man on the steamer about Fate, and many other remarks on life, reproaches and bitter complaints against it, which he happened to hear from all sorts of people.
"What does it mean ?" he thought, "what is life, if it is not man?
And man always speaks as if life were something else, something outside of man, and that something hinders him from living.

Perhaps it is the devil ?" A painful feeling of fear fell on the youth; he shuddered and hastily looked around.

The street was deserted and quiet; the dark windows of the houses stared dimly into the dark of night, and along the walls and fences Foma's shadow followed him.
"Driver!" he cried out aloud, quickening his steps.

The shadow started and crawled after him, frightened, black, silent.

It seemed to Foma that there was a cold breath behind him, and that something huge, invisible, and terrible was overtaking him.