Alpátych went up to a large crowd standing before a high barn which was blazing briskly. The walls were all on fire and the back wall had fallen in, the wooden roof was collapsing, and the rafters were alight. The crowd was evidently watching for the roof to fall in, and Alpátych watched for it too.
“Alpátych!” a familiar voice suddenly hailed the old man.
“Mercy on us! Your excellency!” answered Alpátych, immediately recognizing the voice of his young prince.
Prince Andréy in his riding cloak, mounted on a black horse, was looking at Alpátych from the back of the crowd.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“Your … your excellency,” stammered Alpátych and broke into sobs. “Are we really lost? Master! …”
“Why are you here?” Prince Andréy repeated.