up. As he got near the wood the white moon appeared from behind the hills, and it became light as day. One could see all the leaves on the trees. It was light on the hill, but silent, as if nothing were alive; no sound could be heard but the gurgling of the river below.
Zhílin reached the wood without meeting anyone, chose a dark spot, and sat down to rest.
He rested, and ate one of the cheeses. Then he found a stone and set to work again to knock off the shackles. He knocked his hands sore, but could not break the lock. He rose and went along the road. After walking the greater part of a mile he was quite done up, and his feet were aching. He had to stop every ten steps. “There is nothing else for it,” thought he. “I must drag on as long as I have any strength left. If I sit down, I shan’t be able to rise again. I can’t reach the fortress; but when day breaks I’ll lie down in the forest, remain there all day, and go on again at night.”
He went on all night. Two Tartars on horseback passed him; but he heard them a long way off, and hid behind a tree.
The moon began to grow paler, the dew to fall. It was getting near dawn, and Zhílin had not reached the end of the forest. “Well,” thought he, “I’ll walk another thirty steps, and then turn in among the trees and sit down.”
He walked another thirty steps, and saw that he was at the end of the forest. He went to the edge; it was now quite light, and straight before him was the plain and the fortress. To the left, quite close at the foot of the slope, a fire was dying out, and the smoke from it spread round. There were men gathered about the fire.
He looked intently, and saw guns glistening. They were soldiers—Cossacks!