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On the highway and in the byways since early dawn there had been

unusual animation; from one side a peasant's waggon creaked,

flying like a post-chaise; from another a gentleman's gig ratded

at full gallop, and met a second and a third; from the left-hand

road a messenger rushed like a courier, from the right raced a

dozen horses; all were hurrying, though they were headed in

different directions. What could this mean? The Steward arose

from the pile. He wished to look into the matter, to make

inquiries; he stood long on the road, and shouted vainly, but

could stop no one, nor even recognise any one in the fog. The

riders flashed by like spirits; there could only be heard from

time to time the dull sound of hoofs, and, what was stranger yet,

the clank of sabres; this greatly rejoiced the Steward and yet it

terrified him: for, though at that time there was peace in

Lithuania, dull rumours of war had long been current, of the

French, Dombrowski, and Napoleon.