Then the door of the entrance, badly fastened by the servant, as was evident, opened of itself, and a new draught of air entered with such violence that it quenched from ten to twenty candles. "What is that?" "Shut the door!" "The candles are dying!" said a number of voices. But with the wind had rushed into the hall, as it were, some unknown terror. Pani Vinnitski, who was superstitious and timid, began then to cross herself audibly. "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost--" "Woman! be silent!" commanded Pan Gideon. Then turning to Panna Sieninski he kissed her hand. "A quenched candle cannot trouble my gladness," said he, "and God grant me to be as happy to the end of my days as I am at this moment. Is that not right, my Anulka?" "Yes, guardian," said she, bending toward his hand. "Amen!" ended the prelate, who rose to address them. "Gracious ladies and gentlemen, since that unexpected sound stopped, as is evident, Pan Krepetski's ideas let me be the earliest expounder of those feelings with which our hearts are warmed toward the future wife and her husband. Hence, ere we cry out _O Hymen, O Hymenaios_, before we, in Roman fashion, begin to call Thalassius, the beautiful youth who God grant may appear at the earliest, let us raise _ex imo_ this first toast to their prosperity and coming happiness: _Vivant, crescant, floreant_" (may they live, increase, flourish). "_Vivant! Vivant!_" thundered all guests. The Radom orchestra was heard that moment, and outside the windows the drivers fell to cracking their whips. Long did the shouts last, with the stamping of feet, the sounding of horns and the cracking of whips. The servants, too, raised a shout throughout the whole mansion, and in the dining-hall, amid endless cheers, rose great sounds of wine-gulping. "_Vivant, crescant, floreant!_" Silence came only when Pan Gideon stood up, raised his glass, and said in a loud voice,-- "My guests and relatives, very gracious and most dear to my heart! I express with inadequate words my gratitude to all; I will first bow to you profoundly for that brotherly and neighborly good-feeling which you have shown me by meeting here under my poor roof in such numbers--" The words "under my poor roof" were pronounced with a kind of marvellously mild, and, as it were, submissive accents, then he sat down and bent his head, so that the forehead rested really on the table. And the guests wondered that a man usually so distant and so haughty should speak with such affection. They thought that great happiness melts even hearts the most obdurate, and, waiting for what he had to say further, they looked at his iron-gray head resting yet on the edge of the table. "Silence! We are listening!" said voices. And in fact deep silence had followed. But Pan Gideon was motionless. "What is the matter? What has happened? For God's sake! Speak on!" cried they.