And now, just a little after sundown, the procession left Dominikova’s cabin, as darkness was falling and the mists rising up. Playing lustily, the band marched in front; then Yagna went on, still in her wedding dress, and conducted by her mother and friends: last of all, and without any order, came the ruck of guests, each in the place he had chosen. Their way wound along by the pond, now darkened, its gleaming quenched in the ever-thickening folds of the fog; the silence and obscurity growing blacker and more dead, the tramping and music sounding muffled and, as it were, from underneath the water. From time to time one of the younger folk broke out into song, or a matron took up a stave, or one of the peasant lads cried: “Da dana!” but it was only a short outburst. They were as yet in no merry mood, and, besides, they were chilled to the marrow by the bleak damp air. Only when they turned in to Boryna’s enclosure did the bridesmaids lift their voices in a sad farewell: Wending her way to her wedding, The maiden wept. Then lit they tapers four, And played upon the organ.— Didst fancy, maiden, That they would play for ever? —A little yesterday, to-day a little, And after, thou shalt weep for all thy life! Da dana!... All thy life! Before the threshold, and under the porch, Boryna was waiting along with Yuzka and the young men. Dominikova came forward first of all, carrying in a bundle a piece of bread, a pinch of salt, a little charcoal, some wax from a Candlemas taper, and a handful of ears of corn, blessed on Assumption Day. As Yagna passed the threshold, the matrons cast behind her threads plucked from cloth seams, and the peels of hempstalks, that the Evil One might find no entrance, but all things thrive with her! They greeted, kissed, and pledged one another in cups of mead, with wishes of luck, health, and all good gifts and blessings; then they entered and filled the whole room, every bench and nook and corner. The players tuned their instruments, and then strummed softly, so as not to interfere with the feast that Boryna was now giving. He simply went from matron to matron with a full goblet in hand, offering, pressing them to partake, gathering them in his arms, and drinking to each of them; the blacksmith took his place with the others. Yuzka was bearing on platters pieces of a cake she had baked with curds and honey on purpose to please her father. All the same, the party was dull. True, they emptied their glasses as in duty bound, nor did they turn away from the sausages. Nay, they even drank plentifully and with due zest; only there was no mirth amongst them. The women too, who as a class are inclined to diversions and pastimes, now only sat still on the benches, or here and there in corners, not even talking much amongst themselves.