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The
feeling
of
pain
and
fear
he
had
experienced
when
he
was
being
crushed
,
together
with
that
of
rapture
,
still
further
intensified
his
sense
of
the
importance
of
the
occasion
.
Suddenly
the
sound
of
a
firing
of
cannon
was
heard
from
the
embankment
,
to
celebrate
the
signing
of
peace
with
the
Turks
,
and
the
crowd
rushed
impetuously
toward
the
embankment
to
watch
the
firing
.
Pétya
too
would
have
run
there
,
but
the
clerk
who
had
taken
the
young
gentleman
under
his
protection
stopped
him
.
The
firing
was
still
proceeding
when
officers
,
generals
,
and
gentlemen-in-waiting
came
running
out
of
the
cathedral
,
and
after
them
others
in
a
more
leisurely
manner
:
caps
were
again
raised
,
and
those
who
had
run
to
look
at
the
cannon
ran
back
again
.
At
last
four
men
in
uniforms
and
sashes
emerged
from
the
cathedral
doors
.
"
Hurrah
!
hurrah
!
"
shouted
the
crowd
again
.
"
Which
is
he
?
Which
?
"
asked
Pétya
in
a
tearful
voice
,
of
those
around
him
,
but
no
one
answered
him
,
everybody
was
too
excited
;
and
Pétya
,
fixing
on
one
of
those
four
men
,
whom
he
could
not
clearly
see
for
the
tears
of
joy
that
filled
his
eyes
,
concentrated
all
his
enthusiasm
on
him
--
though
it
happened
not
to
be
the
Emperor
--
frantically
shouted
"
Hurrah
!
"
and
resolved
that
tomorrow
,
come
what
might
,
he
would
join
the
army
.
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The
crowd
ran
after
the
Emperor
,
followed
him
to
the
palace
,
and
began
to
disperse
.
It
was
already
late
,
and
Pétya
had
not
eaten
anything
and
was
drenched
with
perspiration
,
yet
he
did
not
go
home
but
stood
with
that
diminishing
,
but
still
considerable
,
crowd
before
the
palace
while
the
Emperor
dined
--
looking
in
at
the
palace
windows
,
expecting
he
knew
not
what
,
and
envying
alike
the
notables
he
saw
arriving
at
the
entrance
to
dine
with
the
Emperor
and
the
court
footmen
who
served
at
table
,
glimpses
of
whom
could
be
seen
through
the
windows
.
While
the
Emperor
was
dining
,
Valúev
,
looking
out
of
the
window
,
said
:
"
The
people
are
still
hoping
to
see
Your
Majesty
again
.
"
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The
dinner
was
nearly
over
,
and
the
Emperor
,
munching
a
biscuit
,
rose
and
went
out
onto
the
balcony
.
The
people
,
with
Pétya
among
them
,
rushed
toward
the
balcony
.
"
Angel
!
Dear
one
!
Hurrah
!
Father
!
...
"
cried
the
crowd
,
and
Pétya
with
it
,
and
again
the
women
and
men
of
weaker
mold
,
Pétya
among
them
,
wept
with
joy
.
A
largish
piece
of
the
biscuit
the
Emperor
was
holding
in
his
hand
broke
off
,
fell
on
the
balcony
parapet
,
and
then
to
the
ground
.
A
coachman
in
a
jerkin
,
who
stood
nearest
,
sprang
forward
and
snatched
it
up
.
Several
people
in
the
crowd
rushed
at
the
coachman
.
Seeing
this
the
Emperor
had
a
plateful
of
biscuits
brought
him
and
began
throwing
them
down
from
the
balcony
.
Pétya
's
eyes
grew
bloodshot
,
and
still
more
excited
by
the
danger
of
being
crushed
,
he
rushed
at
the
biscuits
.
He
did
not
know
why
,
but
he
had
to
have
a
biscuit
from
the
Tsar
's
hand
and
he
felt
that
he
must
not
give
way