A second afterwards he made, as quick as lightning, a complete turn on one foot towards his men, and commanded, two tones lower in the scale-- "Dress--right!" The profound solemnity and "infinite beauty" of the moment almost took away his breath. At that instant it seemed to him as if the music's waves of melody surrounded him, and were changed into a seething, blinding ocean of light and fire; as if these deafening brazen peals had descended on him from on high, from heaven, from the sun. Even now, as at his last never-to-be-forgotten tryst with Shurochka, he was thrilled by a freezing, petrifying shudder that made the very hair on his head stand up. With joy in their voices and in time with the music, the 5th Company replied to the General's salute. Nearer and nearer to Romashov sounded the jubilant notes of the parade march. On the right and onwards, he could now distinguish the General's heavy figure on his grey horse, and, somewhat farther off, the ladies' brilliant dresses, which, in the blinding glare of the noon-day sun, reminded him of the flaming flower-petals in the old sagas. On the left gleamed the bandsmen's gold instruments, and it seemed to Romashov as if, between the General and the band, was drawn an invisible, enchanted thread, the passing of which was combined peril and bliss. At this moment the first half company reached "the thread." "Good, my lads," rang the General's delighted voice. "Ah, ah, ah, ah!" was the soldiers' rapid, joyous answer. Stronger and stronger at every second grew the alluring influence of the parade march, and Romashov could hardly restrain his feelings any longer. "O thou, my ideal," thought he of the General, with deep emotion. The blissful moment had come. With elastic strides that scarcely touched the ground, Romashov approached his "enchanted thread." He threw his head bravely back with a proud and defiant twist to the left. So potent a feeling of lightness, freedom, and bliss rushed through his being that he fancied he could at any moment whirl himself into space. And while he felt he was an object of delight and admiration to the eyes of all--a centre of all the universe contains of strength, beauty, and delight, he said to himself, as though under the witchery of a heavenly dream-- "Look, look, there goes Romashov! The ladies' eyes are shining with love and admiration. One, two; left, right, 'Colonel Shulgovich,' shouts the General, 'your Romashov is a priceless jewel; he must be my Adjutant.' Left, right! One, two!" Another second and Romashov knew he had started and passed his mystic "thread." The parade march had changed to a joyous peal of trumpets announcing victory. "Now comes the General's salute and thanks," thought Romashov, and his soul returns to the regions of bliss; but he fancies he hears the Colonel's voice and certain other voices. "What has happened; what is the matter? Of course the General has saluted, but why don't my men respond?--What's this?"