“What are you disputing about?” said the major angrily. “What does it matter whether it is St. Nikoláy or St. Blasius? You see it’s burned down, and there’s an end of it.⁠ ⁠… What are you pushing for? Isn’t the road wide enough?” said he, turning to a man behind him who was not pushing him at all.

“Oh, oh, oh! What have they done?” the prisoners on one side and another were heard saying as they gazed on the charred ruins. “All beyond the river, and Zúbova, and in the Krémlin.⁠ ⁠… Just look! There’s not half of it left. Yes, I told you⁠—the whole quarter beyond the river, and so it is.”

“Well, you know it’s burned, so what’s the use of talking?” said the major.

As they passed near a church in the Khamóvniki (one of the few unburned quarters of Moscow) the whole mass of prisoners suddenly started to one side and exclamations of horror and disgust were heard.