Pan Andrei’s face became clear as if a gleam of the morning dawn had fallen on it; he raised his eyes, stretched his hands toward heaven and said with a solemn voice,—
“I have a bear on my shield. Praise to Thee, O Lord on high! Praise to Thee, Most Holy Mother! O Lord, O Lord! I am not worthy of this grace.”
When he heard this Pan Michael was greatly moved, for he recognized at once that that was an omen from heaven.
“Yendrek!” cried he, “to make sure, press the feet of Christ before the battle; and I will implore him against Sakovich.”
“Prostki! Prostki!” repeated Kmita, as in a fever. “When do we move?”
“Before day, and soon it will begin to dawn.”
Kmita approached the broken window of the cottage and cried: “The stars are paling already. Ave, Maria.”
Then came the distant crowing of a cock, and with it low trumpeting. A few “Our Fathers” later, movement began in the whole village. The clatter of steel was heard, and the snorting of horses. Dark masses of cavalry assembled on the highway.
The air began to be filled with light; a pale gleam was silvering the points of the spears, twinkling on the naked sabres, bringing out of the shade mustached threatening faces, helmets, kolpaks, Tartar sheepskin caps, fur cloaks, quivers. At last the advance with Kmita in the vanguard was moving toward Prostki; the troops stretched in a long line over the road, and marched quickly.
The horses in the first ranks fell to snorting greatly, after them others, as a good portent for the soldiers.