“What is that?” asked Zagloba, “it is too late for the Angelus.”
Volodyovski listened carefully, for a while. “That is an alarm!” said he.
Then he went along the line. “And does any one here know what village or town there is in that direction?”
“Klavany, Colonel,” answered one of the Gostsyeviches; “we go that way with potash.”
“Do you hear bells?”
“We hear! That is something unusual.”
Volodyovski nodded to the trumpeter, and in a low note the trumpet sounded in the dark forest. The squadron pushed forward.
The eyes of all were fixed in the direction from which the ringing came each moment more powerful; indeed they were not looking in vain, for soon a red light gleamed on the horizon and increased every moment.
“A fire!” muttered the men in the ranks.
Pan Michael bent toward Skshetuski. “The Swedes!” said he.