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"
Now
softly
,
softly
die
away
!
"
and
the
sounds
obeyed
him
.
"
Now
fuller
,
more
joyful
.
Still
more
and
more
joyful
!
"
And
from
an
unknown
depth
rose
increasingly
triumphant
sounds
.
"
Now
voices
join
in
!
"
ordered
Pétya
.
And
at
first
from
afar
he
heard
men
's
voices
and
then
women
's
The
voices
grew
in
harmonious
triumphant
strength
,
and
Pétya
listened
to
their
surpassing
beauty
in
awe
and
joy
.
With
a
solemn
triumphal
march
there
mingled
a
song
,
the
drip
from
the
trees
,
and
the
hissing
of
the
saber
,
"
Ozheg-zheg-zheg
...
"
and
again
the
horses
jostled
one
another
and
neighed
,
not
disturbing
the
choir
but
joining
in
it
.
Pétya
did
not
know
how
long
this
lasted
:
he
enjoyed
himself
all
the
time
,
wondered
at
his
enjoyment
and
regretted
that
there
was
no
one
to
share
it
.
He
was
awakened
by
Likhachëv
's
kindly
voice
.
"
It
's
ready
,
your
honor
;
you
can
split
a
Frenchman
in
half
with
it
!
"
Pétya
woke
up
.
"
It
's
getting
light
,
it
's
really
getting
light
!
"
he
exclaimed
.
The
horses
that
had
previously
been
invisible
could
now
be
seen
to
their
very
tails
,
and
a
watery
light
showed
itself
through
the
bare
branches
.
Pétya
shook
himself
,
jumped
up
,
took
a
ruble
from
his
pocket
and
gave
it
to
Likhachëv
;
then
he
flourished
the
saber
,
tested
it
,
and
sheathed
it
.
The
Cossacks
were
untying
their
horses
and
tightening
their
saddle
girths
.
"
And
here
's
the
commander
,
"
said
Likhachëv
.
Denísov
came
out
of
the
watchman
's
hut
and
,
having
called
Pétya
,
gave
orders
to
get
ready
.
