his drooping head, and in this attitude more resembled statues than living beings. They were neither asleep nor dozing, but seemed perfectly insensible to everything; they even paid no attention when any one ascended the stairs. At the head of the stairs they found a richly-dressed warrior, clad in armour from head to foot, holding a prayer-book in his hand. He was turning his dim eyes upon them when the Tatár spoke a word to him, and he dropped them again upon the open pages of his book. They entered the first chamber, rather a large one, serving as a reception-room, or simply as an ante-room; it was completely filled with soldiers, servants, huntsmen, cup-bearers, and other servitors indispensable to the maintenance of a Polish magnate's state, all seated along the walls, in various attitudes. The reek of extinguished candles was perceptible; two, in huge candlesticks, nearly as tall as a man, which stood in the middle of the room, were still burning, although morning had long since peeped through the wide, grated window. Andríi was about to proceed straight to a large oaken door, adorned with a coat-of-arms and a profusion of carved ornaments; but the Tatár pulled his sleeve, and pointed to a small door in the side wall. Through this they entered a corridor, and then a room, which he began to examine attentively. The light
