On the following day, the 27th, after a ten-hours sleep, Volodya, fresh
and active, stepped out on the threshold of the casement; Vlang also
started to crawl out with him, but, at the first sound of a bullet, he
flung himself backwards through the opening of the bomb-proof, bumping
his head as he did so, amid the general merriment of the soldiers,
the majority of whom had also come out into the open air. Vlang, the
old gun-sergeant, and a few others were the only ones who rarely went
out into the trenches; it was impossible to restrain the rest; they
all scattered about in the fresh morning air, escaping from the fetid
air of the bomb-proof, and, in spite of the fact that the bombardment
was as vigorous as on the preceding evening, they disposed themselves
around the door, and some even on the breastworks. Melnikoff had been
strolling about among the batteries since daybreak, and staring up with
perfect coolness.
Near the entrance sat two old soldiers and one young, curly-haired
fellow, a Jew, who had been detailed from the infantry. This soldier
picked up one of the bullets which were lying about, and, having
smoothed it against a stone with a potsherd, with his knife he carved
from it a cross, after the style of the order of St. George; the others
looked on at his work as they talked. The cross really turned out to be
quite handsome.
“Now, if we stay here much longer,” said one of them, “then, when peace
is made, the time of service will be up for all of us.”
“Nothing of the sort; I have at least four years service yet before my
time is up, and I have been in Sevastopol these five months.”
“It is not counted towards the discharge, do you understand,” said
another.
At that moment, a cannon-ball shrieked over the heads of the speakers,
and struck only an arshin away from Melnikoff, who was approaching them
from the trenches.
“That came near killing Melnikoff,” said one man.
“I shall not be killed,” said Melnikoff.
“Here's the cross for you, for your bravery,” said the young soldier,
who had made the cross, handing it to Melnikoff.
“No, brother, a month here counts for a year, of course—that was the
order,” the conversation continued.
“Think what you please, but when peace is declared, there will be an
imperial review at Orshava, and if we don't get our discharge, we shall
be allowed to go on indefinite leave.”
At that moment, a shrieking little bullet flew past the speakers'
heads, and struck a stone.
“You'll get a full discharge before evening—see if you don't,” said one
of the soldiers.
They all laughed.
Not only before evening, but before the expiration of two hours, two of
them received their full discharge, and five were wounded; but the rest
jested on as before.
By morning, the two mortars had actually been brought into such a
condition that it was possible to fire them. At ten o'clock, in
accordance with the orders which he had received from the commander of
the bastion, Volodya called out his command, and marched to the battery
with it.
In the men, as soon as they proceeded to action, there was not a drop
of that sentiment of fear perceptible which had been expressed on the
preceding evening. Vlang alone could not control himself; he dodged and
ducked just as before, and Vasin lost some of his composure, and fussed
and fidgeted and changed his place incessantly.
But Volodya was in an extraordinary state of enthusiasm; the thought of
danger did not even occur to him. Delight that he was fulfilling his
duty, that he was not only not a coward, but even a valiant fellow, the
feeling that he was in command, and the presence of twenty men, who,
as he was aware, were surveying him with curiosity, made a thoroughly
brave man of him. He was even vain of his valor, put on airs before
his soldiers, climbed up on the banquette, and unbuttoned his coat
expressly that he might render himself the more distinctly visible.
The commander of the bastion, who was going the rounds of his
establishment as he expressed it, at the moment, accustomed as he had
become during his eight-months experience to all sorts of bravery,
could not refrain from admiring this handsome lad, in the unbuttoned
coat, beneath which a red shirt was visible, encircling his soft white
neck, with his animated face and eyes, as he clapped his hands and
shouted: “First! Second!” and ran gayly along the ramparts, in order to
see where his bomb would fall.
At half-past eleven the firing ceased on both sides, and at precisely
twelve o'clock the storming of the Malakoff mound, of the second,
third, and fifth bastions began.