"And you?"
"She is not the right sort for us at all."
"How so?"
"Very thin in the body."
"If she died," I began, "do you think Ilya Stepanitch would not
survive her?"
Semyon heaved a sigh again. "I can't venture to say that--there's no
knowing with gentlemen ... but our master is a deep one."
I took up from the table the big, rather thick letter that Tyeglev had
given me and turned it over in my hands.... The address to "his honour
the Commanding Officer of the Battery, Colonel So and So" (the name,
patronymic, and surname) was clearly and distinctly written. The word
_urgent_, twice underlined, was written in the top left-hand
corner of the envelope.
"Listen, Semyon," I began. "I feel uneasy about your master. I fancy
he has some mischief in his mind. We must find him."
"Yes, sir," answered Semyon.
"It is true there is such a fog that one cannot see a couple of yards
ahead; but all the same we must do our best. We will each take a
lantern and light a candle in each window--in case of need."
"Yes, sir," repeated Semyon. He lighted the lanterns and the candles
and we set off.