The Bourse and the buildings around it were already wrapped in flames when the French entered the city; but the immense extent of Moscow prevented anything like a general alarm, and the first four-and-twenty hours of the Occupation passed quietly away. On the following night, however--a night much to be remembered in the annals of Russia, of Europe, and of freedom, that of the 15th of September--the sad Russian host on its weary march, and the immense crowd of weeping fugitives that followed it, beheld a sight magnificent indeed but most terrible. A sheet of flame, fanned by a tempestuous wind, grew and spread until it wrapped the wide extent of the devoted city like a shroud of fire. The entire horizon was illuminated. Three quarters of a league away men could see to read by the lurid light. Nor did the dawn of day bring any respite to the horror. The sun turned sickening from the scene, its pale beams unable to contend with that fierce red glare. Another sun arose, and yet another;--still the conflagration raged. It took six awful days and nights to consume that holocaust, the grandest the world has ever seen. But when at last the flames died slowly out, nine-tenths of the ancient capital of the Czar were laid in ashes. CHAPTER XVI. ALEXANDER. “Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of hosts.” Amidst the splendid environs of St. Petersburg, where Art has done all in her power to atone for the sparing hand with which Nature has strewn her bounties, there is a picturesque group of wooded islets embraced by the clear blue waters of the Neva, and conspicuous for the splendour of the “datcha,” or country houses, which adorn them. One of these islets, called Kamenoi-Ostrov, or the stony island, contains an imperial residence, a castle surrounded by gardens; and here, while Moscow was still in flames, arrived Colonel Michaud, the eminent Sardinian engineer, with a sad and heavy heart.[29] He had travelled with the speed and almost in the style of a courier. When he alighted from his unpretending vehicle at the castle gate, he saw that the place had a deserted look; and only a single Cossack, who happened to be on duty as sentinel, perceived his approach. Although the Emperor was still here, even his very guards had been despatched to the seat of war. Michaud briefly gave his name, and asked for an audience. He was introduced at once into the cabinet of the Czar. Alexander looked worn and anxious; young as he was, a few threads of silver showed themselves already in his chestnut hair. He saluted Michaud courteously; but asked immediately, with a keen and searching look, “Do you not bring me sad tidings, colonel?” “Very sad, sire;--the evacuation of Moscow.” “Have they given up my ancient capital without a struggle?”