'The chant of the priest was broken in upon by the harsh cry of General Golofeiev to the soldiers: _Pokreptche! Pokreptche!_ 'Harder! Harder!' Thus was heard for some time the chant of the Basilien broken by the hissing of the lashes and the angry cry of the general. Sierocinski had only passed once through the ranks of the battalion, that is to say, he had received but a thousand lashes, when he rolled without consciousness over the snow, staining it with his dauntless blood. In vain they tried to place him again on his feet--he was too weak to stand; and he was then stretched upon a sled which had been prepared in advance. He was fastened upon this species of support so as to present his back to the blows, and again the defile through the ranks began. Cries and groans were still heard: though they were constantly growing weaker, they ceased not until the commencement of the fourth course--the three thousand last blows fell on the body of the hapless corpse. 'A common ditch received those who died on this dreadful day, Poles and Russians being thrown in together. The holy sign of our faith was placed by the friends of the dead upon this crowded grave, and even in 1846 the great wooden cross still stretched its black arms over the steppe shrouded in its snow of dazzling whiteness.'