“But this is dreadfully annoying,” said one of the young officers, “to
be so near, and yet not be able to get there. Perhaps there will be an
action this very day, and we shall not be there.”
In the sharp voice and the mottled freshness of the color that swept
across the youthful face of this officer as he spoke there was apparent
the sweet young timidity of the man who is constantly afraid lest his
every word shall not turn out exactly right.
The one-armed officer glanced at him with a smile.
“You will get there soon enough, I assure you,” he said.
The young officer looked with respect at the haggard face of the
armless officer, so unexpectedly illuminated by a smile, held his peace
for a while, and busied himself once more with his tea. In fact, the
one-armed officer's face, his attitude, and, most of all, the empty
sleeve of his coat, expressed much of that tranquil indifference that
may be explained in this way—that he looked upon every conversation and
every occurrence as though saying, “That is all very fine; I know all
about that, and I can do a little of that myself, if I only choose.”
“What is our decision to be?” said the young officer again to his
companion in the short coat. “Shall we pass the night here, or shall we
proceed with our own horses?”
His comrade declined to proceed.
“Just imagine, captain,” said the one who was pouring the tea, turning
to the one-armed man, and picking up the knife that the latter had
dropped, “they told us that horses were frightfully dear in Sevastopol,
so we bought a horse in partnership at Simferopol.”
“They made you pay pretty high for it, I fancy.”
“Really, I do not know, captain; we paid ninety rubles for it and the
team. Is that very dear?” he added, turning to all the company, and to
Kozeltzoff, who was staring at him.
“It was not dear, if the horse is young,” said Kozeltzoff.
“Really! but they told us that it was dear. Only, she limps a little,
but that will pass off. They told us that she was very strong.”
“What academy are you from?” asked Kozeltzoff, who wished to inquire
for his brother.
“We are just from the academy of the nobility; there are six of us, and
we are on our way to Sevastopol at our own desire,” said the talkative
young officer. “But we do not know where our battery is; some say that
it is in Sevastopol, others that it is at Odessa.”
“Was it not possible to find out at Simferopol?” asked Kozeltzoff.
“They do not know there. Just imagine, one of our comrades went to
the headquarters there, and they were impertinent to him. You can
imagine how disagreeable that was! Would you like to have me make you
a cigarette,” he said at that moment to the one-armed officer, who was
just pulling out his cigarette-machine.
He waited on the latter with a sort of servile enthusiasm.
“And are you from Sevastopol also?” he went on. “Oh, good Heavens,
how wonderful that is! How much we did think of you, and of all our
heroes, in Petersburg,” he said, turning to Kozeltzoff with respect and
good-natured flattery.
“And now, perhaps, you may have to go back?” inquired the lieutenant.
“That is just what we are afraid of. You can imagine that, after having
bought the horse, and provided ourselves with all the necessaries,—a
coffee-pot with a spirit-lamp, and other indispensable trifles,—we
have no money left,” he said, in a low voice, as he glanced at his
companions; “so that, if we do have to go back, we don't know what is
to be done.”
“Have you received no money for travelling expenses?” inquired
Kozeltzoff.
“No,” replied he, in a whisper; “they only promised to give it to us
here.”
“Have you the certificate?”
“I know that—the principal thing—is the certificate; but a senator in
Moscow,—he's my uncle,—when I was at his house, said that they would
give it to us here; otherwise, he would have given me some himself. So
they will give it to us here?”
“Most certainly they will.”
“I too think that they will,” he said, in a tone which showed
that, after having made the same identical inquiry in thirty
posting-stations, and having everywhere received different answers, he
no longer believed any one implicitly.