After nine o’clock two traps and three mounted men, who had been sent to look for them, arrived to fetch Natásha and Pétya. The count and countess did not know where they were and were very anxious, said one of the men.

Pétya was carried out like a log and laid in the larger of the two traps. Natásha and Nikoláy got into the other. “Uncle” wrapped Natásha up warmly and took leave of her with quite a new tenderness. He accompanied them on foot as far as the bridge that could not be crossed, so that they had to go round by the ford, and he sent huntsmen to ride in front with lanterns.

“Goodbye, dear niece,” his voice called out of the darkness⁠—not the voice Natásha had known previously, but the one that had sung “As ’twas growing dark last night.”

In the village through which they passed there were red lights and a cheerful smell of smoke.

“What a darling Uncle is!” said Natásha, when they had come out onto the high road.