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The shadows on the walls seemed to jeer at him. The soldiers were beginning to talk thickly; their mouths, their fingers were shining with grease. They took off their belts and laid their swords aside. The one next to Yakob put his arm round his neck and whispered in his ear; his red mouth was quite close; he passed his hand over Yakob's head, and brought his arm right round his throat.
The crowd turned upon him with fists and nails; he hid his face in his rags, stopped his ears with his fingers, and shook his head. The prisoners had been dispatched, and it was Yakob's turn to be taken before the officer in command of the battalion. 'Say that I...that I... Yakob entreated his guard. 'What are you in such a hurry for? 'Say that I...
'No... tremblingly came from the inside. 'You see, the soldier paced up and down again, 'you are thinking of your cottage. I can understand that. But do you think the cottage will be any the worse off for your death? The soldier's simple and dour words outside in the blue night, his talk of Yakob's death, of his own death which might come at any moment, slowly brought sleep to Yakob.
The fear which filled his heart was nob like that which he had felt when the Cossacks arrived, but a senseless fear, depriving him of sight and hearing...as though there were no place for him in the world. 'Are we going too fast? asked the guard hearing Yakob's heavy breathing. 'All right, all right, he answered cheerfully. The friendly words had taken his fear away.
They devoured their food fast and noisily, and an odour of brandy began to fill the room, and contracted Yakob's throat. He understood that they were inviting him to share the meal, but he felt uneasy about that, and though his stomach seemed to have shrunk, and the sausage-skins and bones which they had thrown away lay quite close to him, he could not make up his mind to move and pick them up.
Not he himself seemed to be trembling, only his rags. The door was suddenly thrown open and a soldier appeared on the threshold. The light of a lantern which was suspended on his chest, filled the room. Yakob's blood was freezing. Cossacks, hairy like bears, were standing in the opening of the door, the snow which covered them was shining like a white flame.
The manor-house was reached. The light from the numerous windows fell upon horses and gun-carriages drawn up in the yard. 'What do you want? cried the sentry to the crowd, pushing them back. He nodded towards Yakob. 'Where is he to go? 'That sort... murmured the crowd. Yakob's guard delivered his order. They stopped in the porch.
Yakob jumped up to give them the rest of the sausages and food which had been left on the plates. But they would only take the brandy, and left the tobacco and the broken meat. 'That will be for you...afterwards, said the young Cossack, took a red muffler off his neck and put it round Yakob's shoulder. 'That will keep you warm.
A deep groan escaped from Yakob's breast, a groan like a winter-wind. He sprang up, stood on the edge of the ditch, sighed with all the strength of his old breast and fell like a branch. Puffs of smoke rose from the ditch and from the forests.
Yakob discovered that the chain of lights which he had observed earlier in the evening, had come down from the mountains, for it now seemed to be close to the village. Silence reigned in the sleeping world, every step could be heard. This silence filled Yakob's heart with a wild fear; he turned round with a feeling of helplessness and looked back at his cottage.
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