"Wine!" called Pan Gideon.
But the glasses were full, hence there was no need to pour at that moment. Old Krepetski, father of Martsian, rose from his chair somewhat heavily, wishing to speak, as seemed evident. All turned their eyes to him. Old men began to surround their ears with their hands to hear better, but he only moved his lips after long waiting, his chin almost meeting his nose, for he was toothless.
Meanwhile, notwithstanding the fact that the earth was soft from thawing, there came from the other side of the house, as it were, a dull clatter and it was heard rather long, long enough to go twice round the courtyard. Hence old Krepetski, who had raised his glass, held it a while, looked at the door, and then put the glass down again; other guests acted in like manner.
"See who has come!" said Pan Gideon to his attendant.
The youth rushed out, returned straightway, and answered,--
"There is no one."
"That is strange," said the prelate. "The sound was heard clearly."
"We all heard it," said one of the twin Sulgostovskis.
"And the dogs have stopped howling," said others.
Then the door of the entrance, badly fastened by the servant, as was evident, opened of itself, and a new draught of air entered with such violence that it quenched from ten to twenty candles.