and staggered out of the hall.

Now the health of Prince Alexis was drunk,--by the guests on the
floor of the hall in Champagne, by those in the galleries in
kislischi and hydromel. The orchestra played; a choir of
serfs sang an ode by Simon Petrovitch, in which the departure of
Prince Boris was mentioned; the tumblers began to posture; the
jugglers came forth and played their tricks; and the cannon on the
ramparts announced to all Kinesma, and far up and down the Volga,
that the company were rising from the table.

Half an hour later, the great red slumber-flag floated over the
castle. All slept,--except the serf with the wounded arm, the
nervous Grand Marshal, and Simon Petrovich with his band of
dramatists, guarded by the indefatigable Sasha. All others
slept,--and the curious crowd outside, listening to the music,
stole silently away; down in Kinesma, the mothers ceased to scold
their children, and the merchants whispered to each other in the
bazaar; the captains of vessels floating on the Volga directed
their men by gestures; the mechanics laid aside hammer and axe, and
lighted their pipes. Great silence fell upon the land, and
continued unbroken so long as Prince Alexis and his guests slept
the sleep of the just and the tipsy.

By night, however, they were all awake and busily preparing for the
diversions of the evening. The ball-room was illuminated by
thousands of wax-lights, so connected with inflammable threads,
that the wicks could all be kindled in a moment. A pyramid of tar-
barrels had been erected on each side of the castle-gate, and every
hill or mound on the opposite bank of the Volga was similarly