Having nearly talked their fill and having arrived at the feeling that
you frequently experience, that there is little in common between you,
though you love one another, the brothers were silent for a few moments.
“Pick up your things and we will set out at once,” said the elder.
The younger suddenly blushed, stammered, and became confused.
“Are we to go straight to Sevastopol?” he inquired, after a momentary
pause.
“Why, yes. You can't have many things, and we can manage to carry them,
I think.”
“Very good! we will start at once,” said the younger, with a sigh, and
he went inside.
But he paused in the vestibule without opening the door, dropped his
head gloomily, and began to reflect.
“Straight to Sevastopol, on the instant, within range of the
bombs—frightful! It's no matter, however; it must have come sometime.
Now, at all events, with my brother—”
The fact was that it was only now, at the thought that, once seated
in the cart, he should enter Sevastopol without dismounting from it,
and that no chance occurrence could any longer detain him, that the
danger which he was seeking clearly presented itself to him, and he was
troubled at the very thought of its nearness. He managed to control
himself in some way, and entered the room; but a quarter of an hour
elapsed, and still he had not rejoined his brother, so that the latter
opened the door at last, in order to call him. The younger Kozeltzoff,
in the attitude of a naughty school-boy, was saying something to an
officer named P. When his brother opened the door, he became utterly
confused.
“Immediately. I'll come out in a minute!” he cried, waving his hand at
his brother. “Wait for me there, please.”
A moment later he emerged, in fact, and approached his brother, with a
deep sigh.
“Just imagine! I cannot go with you, brother,” he said.
“What? What nonsense is this?”
“I will tell you the whole truth, Misha! Not one of us has any money,
and we are all in debt to that staff-captain whom you saw there. It is
horribly mortifying!”
The elder brother frowned, and did not break the silence for a long
while.
“Do you owe much?” he asked, glancing askance at his brother.
“A great deal—no, not a great deal; but I am dreadfully ashamed of it.
He has paid for me for three stages, and all his sugar is gone, so that
I do not know—yes, and we played at preference. I am a little in his
debt there, too.”
“This is bad, Volodya! Now, what would you have done if you had not met
me?” said the elder, sternly, without looking at his brother.
“Why, I was thinking, brother, that I should get that travelling-money
at Sevastopol, and that I would give him that. Surely, that can be
done; and it will be better for me to go with him to-morrow.”
The elder brother pulled out his purse, and, with fingers that shook a
little, he took out two ten-ruble notes and one for three rubles.
“This is all the money I have,” said he. “How much do you owe?”
Kozeltzoff did not speak the exact truth when he said that this was all
the money he had. He had, besides, four gold pieces sewn into his cuff,
in case of an emergency; but he had taken a vow not to touch them.
It appeared that Kozeltzoff, what with preference and sugar, was in
debt to the amount of eight rubles only. The elder brother gave him
this sum, merely remarking that one should not play preference when one
had no money.
“What did you play for?”
The younger brother answered not a word. His brother's question seemed
to him to cast a reflection on his honor. Vexation at himself, a shame
at his conduct, which could give rise to such a suspicion, and the
insult from his brother, of whom he was so fond, produced upon his
sensitive nature so deeply painful an impression that he made no reply.
Sensible that he was not in a condition to restrain the sobs which rose
in his throat, he took the money without glancing at it, and went back
to his comrades.