A sentry-fire burned redly out in the end of the street. A few dark figures were visible about it. Somewhere Ilya heard a Cossack challenge, and the rattle of a riflebolt in the crisp air. A pig began to squeal away in the direction of the Chinese quarter. Ilya missed the friendly barking of dogs, for the dogs of the city had somehow disappeared since the troubles came and many people were starving. The unnatural stillness of the night held a covert menace, as if all creatures, humans and wild beasts, were walking about on their toes in dread, or crouched to spring upon some lurking enemy. It was likely that hill tigers were about. The occasional howl of a wolf seemed to be tinged with a note of triumph, as if they were waiting for their old wilderness to be restored to them by men. The wolves were once more hunting close to the city and getting arrogant and fat. Men were too busy hunting each other to waste time or ammunition on the great packs of timber wolves.
A small door in the wall, close to where Ilya stood, opened inward a few inches, slowly and cautiously, for the frost cracked the ancient hinges with sharp complaints.
“It is Ilya—Ilya Andreitch,” he whispered into the aperture of the gate.
“You are a fool to come here in the starlight,” growled Wassili. “Are you blind, that you cannot see the brightness of the stars, or have you a mole for an uncle?”
“What does it matter?” whispered Ilya easily. He did not mind being insulted by Wassili, knowing in time that he would have the laugh on Kirsakoff’s moujik.
The gate opened a few more inches, and Ilya needed no greater hint, but slipped through, and the gate closed after him.
“You smell like a kabak,” grumbled Wassili.
“That is why you opened the gate,” said Ilya with a chuckle. “You have a nose for vodka, even if you are not civil to your friends.”
“But you will be seen by enemies, to come here so boldly,” went on Wassili, not so easily altered in his temper.
“I? No one saw me. I am as secret as an owl. Those fools of soldiers are all drunk and talking in their sleep. They shoot their guns at the moon every night, to scare honest folk away.”