2. An Unknows Traveler

In the meantime, the stranger himself, reassured without doubt by the welcome which he had received, became more communicative. He described with startling vividness the battles which had just taken place. They could almost think they were taking a part in them with him. They listened, scarcely daring to breathe. The men, generally impassive, became excited; the women cried and sobbed; the children, having lost all desire to sleep, hung breathless on his lips.

Suddenly, two shots were heard, then many more. After a short interval, they heard firing again. There was silence. They listened. The shots seemed to come from the steppe. They listened a long time, but nothing more was heard.

“What! Is it possible! Firing is heard even in your quiet districts?” said the traveler.

“That firing must have been on the great road of Tchigurine,” said Andry Krouk.

“The noise came from all quarters successively,” said Danilo, shaking his head.

It was growing late. The women arose to return to their homes, it was time to put the children to bed. More than one mother had taken her child in her arms. Some were tall and strong, others were small and delicate; some were young, some old; but all had the same look, that expression of energetic will, which people have when, after many struggles and endeavors, they are resolved to do everything, even suffer death with fortitude.

They said good-by on the threshold, exchanging an affectionate smile and a friendly shake of the hand. Everything passed as usual, and yet they felt a storm in the air. The eyes of these wives, mothers, sisters, and girls sparkled brilliantly.

“Adieu! Adieu! Good-night,” they said.

Then they separated in the somber paths and disappeared. The two intimate friends, Andry Krouk and Semène Vorochilo, remained with Danilo. The traveler remained also.