The remainder of the night passed for Skshetuski in
writing letters and ardent prayer, after which the angel of
rest came to him. Meanwhile the night was growing pale;
light whitened the narrow windows from the east; day
was coming. Then rosy gleams stole into the room; on the
tower and fortress they began to play the morning "tattoo."
Shortly after Grodzitski appeared in the room.

"The boats are ready."

"And I am ready," said Skshetuski, calmly.