Alpatitch went back to the house, and calling the coachman told him to set off. Alpatitch and the coachman were followed out by all the household of Ferapontov. When they saw the smoke and even the flames of burning houses, which began to be visible now in the dusk, the women, who had been silent till then, broke into a sudden wail, as they gazed at the fires. As though seconding them, similar wails rose up in other parts of the street. Alpatitch and the coachman with trembling hands pulled out the tangled reins and the traces of the horses under the shed.
As Alpatitch was driving out of the gate, he saw about a dozen soldiers in loud conversation in Ferapontov’s open shop. They were filling their bags and knapsacks with wheaten flour and sunflower seeds. At that moment Ferapontov returned and went into the shop. On seeing the soldiers, he was about to shout at them, but all at once he stopped short, and clutching at his hair broke into a sobbing laugh.
“Carry it all away, lads！ Don’t leave it for the devils,” he shouted, snatching up the sacks himself and pitching them into the street. Some of the soldiers ran away in a fright, others went on filling up their bags. Seeing Alpatitch, Ferapontov turned to him.
“It’s all over with Russia！” he shouted. “Alpatitch！ it’s all over！ I’ll set fire to it myself. It’s over…”Ferapontov ran into the house.
An unbroken stream of soldiers was blocking up the whole street, so that Alpatitch could not pass and was obliged to wait. Ferapontov’s wife and children were sitting in a cart too, waiting till it was possible to start.
It was by now quite dark. There were stars in the sky, and from time to time the new moon shone through the veil of smoke. Alpatitch’s and his hostess’s vehicles moved slowly along in the rows of soldiers and of other conveyances, and on the slope down to the Dnieper they had to halt altogether. In a lane not far from the cross-roads where the traffic had come to a full stop, there were shops and a house on fire. The fire was by now burning down. The flame died down and was lost in black smoke, then flared up suddenly, lighting up with strange distinctness the faces of the crowd at the cross-roads. Black figures were flitting about before the fire, and talk and shouts could be heard above the unceasing crackling of the flames. Alpatitch, seeing that it would be some time before his gig could move forward, got out and went back to the lane to look at the fire. Soldiers were scurrying to and fro before the fire; and Alpatitch saw two soldiers with a man in a frieze coat dragging burning beams from the fire across the street to a house near, while others carried armfuls of hay.
Alpatitch joined a great crowd of people standing before a high corn granary in full blaze. The walls were all in flames; the back wall had fallen in; the plank roof was breaking down, and the beams were glowing. The crowd were evidently watching for the moment when the roof would fall in. Alpatitch too waited to see it.
“Alpatitch！” the old man suddenly heard a familiar voice calling to him.
“Mercy on us, your excellency,” answered Alpatitch, instantly recognising the voice of his young master.
Prince Andrey, wearing a cape, and mounted on a black horse, was in the crowd, and looking at Alpatitch.
“How did you come here？” he asked.
“Your…your excellency！” Alpatitch articulated, and he broke into sobs.…“Your, your…is it all over with us, really？ Master…”
“How is it you are here？” repeated Prince Andrey. The flames flared up at that instant, and Alpatitch saw in the bright light his young master’s pale and worn face. Alpatitch told him how he had been sent to the town and had difficulty in getting away.
“What do you say, your excellency, is it all over with us？” he asked again.
Prince Andrey, making no reply, took out his note-book, and raising his knee, scribbled in pencil on a leaf he had torn out. He wrote to his sister：
“Smolensk has surrendered,” he wrote. “Bleak Hills will be occupied by the enemy within a week. Set off at once for Moscow. Let me know at once when you start; send a messenger to Usvyazh.”
Scribbling these words, and giving Alpatitch the paper, he gave him further directions about sending off the old prince, the princess and his son with his tutor, and how and where to let him hear, as soon as they had gone. Before he had finished giving those instructions, a staff officer, followed by his suite, galloped up to him.
“You a colonel,” shouted the staff officer, in a voice Prince Andrey knew speaking with a German accent. “Houses are being set on fire in your presence and you stand still！ What’s the meaning of it？ You will answer for it,” shouted Berg, who was now assistant to the head of the staff of the assistant of the chief officer of the staff of the commander of the left flank of the infantry of the first army, a very agreeable and prominent position, so Berg said.
Prince Andrey stared at him, and without making any reply went on addressing Alpatitch.
“Tell them then that I shall wait for an answer till the 10th, and if I don’t receive news by the 10th, that they have all gone away, I shall be obliged to throw up everything and go myself to Bleak Hills.”
“Prince,” said Berg, recognising Prince Andrey, “I only speak because it’s my duty to carry out my instructions, because I always do exactly carry out…You must please excuse me,” Berg tried to apologise.
There was a crash in the fire. The flames subsided for an instant; black clouds of smoke rolled under the roof. There was another fearful crash, and the falling of some enormous weight.
“Ooo-roo！” the crowd yelled, as the ceiling of the granary fell in, and a smell of baked cakes rose from the burning wheat. The flames flared up again, and lighted up the delighted and careworn faces of the crowd around it.
The man in the frieze coat, brandishing his arms in the air, was shouting：
“First-rate！ Now she’s started！ First-rate, lads！…” “That’s the owner himself,” murmured voices.
“So you tell them everything I have told you,” said Prince Andrey, addressing Alpatitch. And without bestowing a word on Berg, who stood mute beside him, he put spurs to his horse and rode down the lane.
