Then a breeze began from the summits, and bearing on its wings sparks of snow, flew to the valley. Therefore the nearer fir-trees began to bend their snow-covered heads, bow to their lord, and to make a joyous and rustling sound, as if they were singing that old song, “Be welcome to us, thou dear master!” Darkness had already filled the air when the king’s retinue moved forward. Beyond the defile was spread out a rather roomy plain, the other end of which was lost in the distance. Light was dying all around; only in one place the sky was still bright with red. The king began to repeat _Ave Maria_; after him the others with concentration of spirit repeated the pious words. Their native land, unvisited by them for a long time; the mountains which night was now covering; the dying twilight, the prayer,—all these caused a solemnity of heart and mind; hence after the prayer the king, the dignitaries, and the knights rode on in silence. Night fell, but in the east the sky was shining still more redly. “Let us go toward that twilight,” said the king, at last; “it is a wonder that it is shining yet.” Then Kmita galloped up. “Gracious Lord, that is a fire!” cried he. All halted. “How is that?” asked the king; “it seems to me that ’tis the twilight.” “A fire, a fire! I am not mistaken!” cried Kmita. And indeed, of all of the attendants of the king he knew most in that matter. At last it was no longer possible to doubt, since above that supposed twilight were rising as it were red clouds, rolling now brighter, now darker in turn. “It is as if Jivyets were burning!” cried the king; “maybe the enemy is ravaging it.” He had not finished speaking when to their ears flew the noise of men, the snorting of horses, and a number of dark figures appeared before the retinue. “Halt, halt!” cried Tyzenhauz. These figures halted, as if uncertain what to do farther. “Who are you?” was asked from the retinue. “Ours!” said a number of voices. “Ours! We are escaping with our lives from Jivyets. The Swedes are burning Jivyets, and murdering people.” “Stop, in God’s name! What do you say? Whence have they come?” “They were waiting for our king. There is a power of them, a power! May the Mother of God have the king in Her keeping!” Tyzenhauz lost his head for a moment. “See what it is to go with a small party!” cried he to Kmita; “Would that you were killed for such counsel!” Yan Kazimir began to inquire himself of the fugitives. “But where is the king?” “The king has gone to the mountains with a great army. Two days ago he passed through Jivyets; they pursued him, and were fighting somewhere near Suha. We have not heard whether they took him or not; but to-day they returned to Jivyets, and are burning and murdering.” “Go with God!” said Yan Kazimir. The fugitives shot past quickly. “See what would have met us had we gone with the dragoons!” exclaimed Kmita. “Gracious King!” said Father Gembitski, “the enemy is before us. What are we to do?”