were displayed. The broad external staircase, of tinted bricks,
abutted on the square. At the foot of it sat guards, who with one hand
held their halberds upright, and with the other supported their
drooping heads, and in this attitude more resembled apparitions than
living beings. They neither slept nor dreamed, but seemed quite
insensible to everything; they even paid no attention to who went up
the stairs. At the head of the stairs, they found a richly-dressed
warrior, armed cap-a-pie, and holding a breviary in his hand. He
turned his dim eyes upon them; but the Tatar spoke a word to him, and
he dropped them again upon the open pages of his breviary. They
entered the first chamber, a large one, serving either as a
reception-room, or simply as an ante-room; it was filled with
soldiers, servants, secretaries, huntsmen, cup-bearers, and the other
servitors indispensable to the support of a Polish magnate's estate,
all seated along the walls. The reek of extinguished candles was
perceptible; and two were still burning in two huge candlesticks,
nearly as tall as a man, standing in the middle of the room, although
morning had long since peeped through the wide grated window. Andrii
wanted to go straight on to the large oaken door adorned with a
coat-of-arms and a profusion of carved ornaments, but the Tatar pulled
his sleeve and pointed to a small door in the side wall. Through this
they gained a corridor, and then a room, which he began to examine
attentively. The light which filtered through a crack in the shutter
fell upon several objects--a crimson curtain, a gilded cornice, and a
painting on the wall. Here the Tatar motioned to Andrii to wait, and
opened the door into another room from which flashed the light of a
fire. He heard a whispering, and a soft voice which made him quiver
all over. Through the open door he saw flit rapidly past a tall female
figure, with a long thick braid of hair falling over her uplifted
hands. The Tatar returned and told him to go in.