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See what it's doing now. O Lord! You can even see the crows flying. Lord have mercy on us sinners!" "They'll put it out, no fear!" "Who's to put it out?" Daniel Terentich, who had hitherto been silent, was heard to say. His voice was calm and deliberate. "Moscow it is, brothers," said he. "Mother Moscow, the white..." his voice faltered, and he gave way to an old man's sob.
On the table was an end of candle in an iron candlestick, and a half-bottle of vodka, nearly finished. Terentich muttered something to me, and signed towards the next room. The old woman had disappeared, so there was nothing for me to do but to open the door indicated. I did so, and entered the next room.
She listened silently to my questions, did not understand a word, of course, and opened another door leading into a little bit of a room, low and scarcely furnished at all, but with a large, wide bed in it, hung with curtains. On this bed lay one Terentich, as the woman called him, drunk, it appeared to me.
"I only ran out to get some water," said Mishka. "But what do you think, Daniel Terentich? Doesn't it look as if that glow were in Moscow?" remarked one of the footmen. Daniel Terentich made no reply, and again for a long time they were all silent. The glow spread, rising and falling, farther and farther still. "God have mercy.... It's windy and dry..." said another voice. "Just look!
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