The kibitka was now only half a verst from Krasnoiarsk. The numerous wooden crosses which are erected at the approaches to the town, could be seen to the right and left of the road. It was seven in the evening; the outline of the churches and of the houses built on the high bank of the Yenisei were clearly defined against the evening sky, and the waters of the river reflected them in the twilight. “Where are we, sister?” asked Michael. “Half a verst from the first houses,” replied Nadia. “Can the town be asleep?” observed Michael. “Not a sound strikes my ear.” “And I cannot see the slightest light, nor even smoke mounting into the air,” added Nadia. “What a queer town!” said Nicholas. “They make no noise in it, and go to bed uncommonly early!” A presentiment of impending misfortune passed across Michael’s heart. He had not said to Nadia that he had placed all his hopes on Krasnoiarsk, where he expected to find the means of safely finishing his journey. He much feared that his anticipations would again be disappointed. But Nadia had guessed his thoughts, although she could not understand why her companion should be so anxious to reach Irkutsk, now that the Imperial letter was gone. She one day said something of the sort to him. “I have sworn to go to Irkutsk,” he replied. But to accomplish his mission, it was necessary that at Krasnoiarsk he should find some more rapid mode of locomotion. “Well, friend,” said he to Nicholas, “why are we not going on?” “Because I am afraid of waking up the inhabitants of the town with the noise of my carriage!” And with a light fleck of the whip, Nicholas put his horse in motion. Ten minutes after they entered the High Street. Krasnoiarsk was deserted; there was no longer an Athenian in this “Northern Athens,” as Madame de Bourboulon has called it. Not one of their dashing equipages swept through the wide, clean streets. Not a pedestrian enlivened the footpaths raised at the bases of the magnificent wooden houses, of monumental aspect! Not a Siberian belle, dressed in the last French fashion, promenaded the beautiful park, cleared in a forest of birch trees, which stretches away to the banks of the Yenisei! The great bell of the cathedral was dumb; the chimes of the churches were silent. Here was complete desolation. There was no longer a living being in this town, lately so lively! The last telegram sent from the Czar’s cabinet, before the rupture of the wire, had ordered the governor, the garrison, the inhabitants, whoever they might be, to leave Krasnoiarsk, to carry with them any articles of value, or which might be of use to the Tartars, and to take refuge at Irkutsk. The same injunction was given to all the villages of the province. It was the intention of the Muscovite government to lay the country desert before the invaders. No one thought for an instant of disputing these orders. They were executed, and this was the reason why not a single human being remained in Krasnoiarsk.