r ran into the
room and began to say something in French. The Governor's face expressed
terror.

"Go," he said, nodding his head to Alpatych, and began questioning the
officer.

Eager, frightened, helpless glances were turned on Alpatych when he came
out of the Governor's room. Involuntarily listening now to the firing,
which had drawn nearer and was increasing in strength, Alpatych hurried
to his inn. The paper handed to him by the Governor said this:

"I assure you that the town of Smolensk is not in the slightest danger
as yet and it is unlikely that it will be threatened with any. I from
the one side and Prince Bagration from the other are marching to unite
our forces before Smolensk, which junction will be effected on the
22nd instant, and both armies with their united forces will defend our
compatriots of the province entrusted to your care till our efforts
shall have beaten back the enemies of our Fatherland, or till the last
warrior in our valiant ranks has perished. From this you will see that
you have a perfect right to reassure the inhabitants of Smolensk, for
those defended by two such brave armies may feel assured of victory."
(Instructions from Barclay de Tolly to Baron Asch, the civil governor of
Smolensk, 1812.)

People were anxiously roaming about the streets.

Carts piled high with household utensils, chairs, and cupboards kept
emerging from the gates of the yards and moving along the streets.
Loaded carts stood at the house next to Ferapontov's and women were
wailing and lamenting as they said good-by. A small watchdog ran round
barking in front of the harnessed horses.

Alpatych entered the innyard at a quicker pace than usual and went
straight to the shed where his horses and trap were. The coachman was
asleep. He woke him up, told him to harness, and went into the passage.
From the host's room came the sounds of a child crying, the despairing
sobs of a woman, and the hoarse angry shouting of Ferapontov. The cook
began running hither and thither in the passage like a frightened hen,
just as Alpatych entered.

"He's done her to death. Killed the mistress!... Beat her... dragged her
about so!..."

"What for?" asked Alpatych.

"She kept begging to go away. She's a woman! 'Take me away,' says she,
'don't let me perish with my little children! Folks,' she says, 'are all
gone, so why,' she says, 'don't we go?' And he began beating and pulling
her about so!"

At these words Alpatych nodde