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Five
minutes
later
no
one
remained
in
the
street
.
The
cook
,
with
her
thigh
broken
by
a
shell
splinter
,
had
been
carried
into
the
kitchen
.
Alpátych
,
his
coachman
,
Ferapóntov
's
wife
and
children
and
the
house
porter
were
all
sitting
in
the
cellar
,
listening
.
The
roar
of
guns
,
the
whistling
of
projectiles
,
and
the
piteous
moaning
of
the
cook
,
which
rose
above
the
other
sounds
,
did
not
cease
for
a
moment
.
The
mistress
rocked
and
hushed
her
baby
and
when
anyone
came
into
the
cellar
asked
in
a
pathetic
whisper
what
had
become
of
her
husband
who
had
remained
in
the
street
.
A
shopman
who
entered
told
her
that
her
husband
had
gone
with
others
to
the
cathedral
,
whence
they
were
fetching
the
wonder-working
icon
of
Smolénsk
.
Toward
dusk
the
cannonade
began
to
subside
.
Alpátych
left
the
cellar
and
stopped
in
the
doorway
.
The
evening
sky
that
had
been
so
clear
was
clouded
with
smoke
,
through
which
,
high
up
,
the
sickle
of
the
new
moon
shone
strangely
.
Now
that
the
terrible
din
of
the
guns
had
ceased
a
hush
seemed
to
reign
over
the
town
,
broken
only
by
the
rustle
of
footsteps
,
the
moaning
,
the
distant
cries
,
and
the
crackle
of
fires
which
seemed
widespread
everywhere
.
The
cook
's
moans
had
now
subsided
.
On
two
sides
black
curling
clouds
of
smoke
rose
and
spread
from
the
fires
.
Through
the
streets
soldiers
in
various
uniforms
walked
or
ran
confusedly
in
different
directions
like
ants
from
a
ruined
ant-hill
.
Several
of
them
ran
into
Ferapóntov
's
yard
before
Alpátych
's
eyes
.
Alpátych
went
out
to
the
gate
.
A
retreating
regiment
,
thronging
and
hurrying
,
blocked
the
street
.
Noticing
him
,
an
officer
said
:
"
The
town
is
being
abandoned
.
Get
away
,
get
away
!
"
and
then
,
turning
to
the
soldiers
,
shouted
:
"
I
'll
teach
you
to
run
into
the
yards
!
"
Alpátych
went
back
to
the
house
,
called
the
coachman
,
and
told
him
to
set
off
.
Ferapóntov
's
whole
household
came
out
too
,
following
Alpátych
and
the
coachman
.
The
women
,
who
had
been
silent
till
then
,
suddenly
began
to
wail
as
they
looked
at
the
fires
--
the
smoke
and
even
the
flames
of
which
could
be
seen
in
the
failing
twilight
--
and
as
if
in
reply
the
same
kind
of
lamentation
was
heard
from
other
parts
of
the
street
.
Inside
the
shed
Alpátych
and
the
coachman
arranged
the
tangled
reins
and
traces
of
their
horses
with
trembling
hands
.
As
Alpátych
was
driving
out
of
the
gate
he
saw
some
ten
soldiers
in
Ferapóntov
's
open
shop
,
talking
loudly
and
filling
their
bags
and
knapsacks
with
flour
and
sunflower
seeds
.
Just
then
Ferapóntov
returned
and
entered
his
shop
.
On
seeing
the
soldiers
he
was
about
to
shout
at
them
,
but
suddenly
stopped
and
,
clutching
at
his
hair
,
burst
into
sobs
and
laughter
:
"
Loot
everything
,
lads
!
Do
n't
let
those
devils
get
it
!
"
he
cried
,
taking
some
bags
of
flour
himself
and
throwing
them
into
the
street
.
Some
of
the
soldiers
were
frightened
and
ran
away
,
others
went
on
filling
their
bags
.
On
seeing
Alpátych
,
Ferapóntov
turned
to
him
:
