Behind them jerkingly trailed a long beam, or a pile of boards clattering loudly.

And by their side Nikolay trudged along, holding the slackened reins in his hand, ragged, dirty, with heavy boots, his hat thrust back, uncouth as a stump just turned up from the ground.

He, too, shook his head and looked down at his feet, refusing to see anything.

His horses blindly ran into the people and wagons going the opposite direction.

Angry oaths buzzed about him like hornets, and sinister shouts rent the air.