Stsar stvouyna slavouna, slavounam. . . .
one [p201] really felt carried far away on the wings of the music. During the singing I looked over towards the third places, filled with the poorer people, who are less sceptical than the others. Many of them were quite touched, their eyes were glistening, their breasts heaving. . . .
Whilst the bells and the moujiks were singing in unison, the processions commenced to pass over the road. First came the singers and wandering dancers, who followed the army to the scene of war; then groups of officers, convoys of prisoners, the fantastic gallop of an orderly; then, with a bustle, a troïka, containing a tall man enveloped in a grey pelisse. This was Skobelef, who had arrived to take command of the army.
Then we were transported before Plevna. The country people were taking refuge in the town, carrying all their wealth in their carts. They were just in time! the Russian soldiers were at their heels! But they are only scouts. The Turkish sentinels have seen them from the walls of Plevna. [p202] The alarm is given. A sortie is made, and they are surrounded. Their case is not quite clear; their reconnaissance has a fatal look of spying. The Turks prepare to shoot them, when a thundering gallop shakes the floor. The Cossacks have arrived at furious speed to rescue the prisoners. Ah, the brave men! I always thought that a candle diet developed heroism. With the thrust of a lance, the [p203] Turks are properly settled; a few of them run away in great style, and succeed in re-entering the town. They merely postpone the moment of surrender, for the whole Russian army is advancing. It rushes to the assault of the practicable places in the fort. In the midst of the engagement and smoke the whole end of the Hippodrome becomes [p204] illumined with the lurid light of fire. Vive Skobelef! vive Ruggieri! Plevna is burning! Plevna is burnt!
And the victors have nothing to do but rejoice!
In a moment a painted canvas has been unrolled round the arena, which represents St. Petersburg in perspective; the parqueterie has changed into the frozen Neva. The whole town has come out to greet the victorious soldiers!
A fine evening for skaters!