The broad dark silhouette of the priest took a few steps backward and disappeared. The day was breaking. The snow became whiter, the faces of the condemned darker, and the forest barer and sadder.
"Gentlemen, you will go in pairs, choosing your companion. But I beg you to make haste."
Werner pointed to Yanson, who now was standing again, sustained by two soldiers.
"I will go with him. You, Sergey, take Vasily. You go first."
"All right."
"I am going with you, Musya," said Tanya. "Come, let us kiss each other!"
Quickly they kissed all round. The Tzigane kissed forcibly; they felt his teeth. Yanson kissed gently and softly, with mouth half open. He did not seem to understand what he was doing. When Sergey and Kashirin had taken a few steps, the latter stopped suddenly, and in a loud voice, which seemed strange and unfamiliar, shouted:
"Good-bye, comrades."
"Good-bye, comrade," they answered him.
The two started off again. All was quiet. The lanterns behind the trees became motionless. They expected to hear a cry, a voice, some sound or other, but there as here all was calm.
"Oh! My God!" exclaimed someone hoarsely.
They turned around: it was the Tzigane, crying desperately:
"They are going to hang us."
