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Sevastopol Page 15

officer, rising, and going into theshed, without paying any heed to his guests. "Won't you have somethingto drink? Some porter, for instance?" said he.

  "Don't put yourself out, Vasily Mikhailitch."

  Volodya was impressed by the size of the commissary officer, by hiscarelessness of manner, and by the respect with which his brotheraddressed him.

  "It must be that this is one of their very fine officers, whom everyone respects. Really, he is simple, but hospitable and brave," hethought, seating himself in a timid and modest manner on the sofa.

  "Where is our regiment stationed, then?" called out his elder brotherinto the board hut.

  "What?"

  He repeated his query.

  "Zeifer has been here to-day. He told me that they had removed to thefifth bastion."

  "Is that true?"

  "If I say so, it must be true; but the deuce only knows anyway! Hewould think nothing of telling a lie. Won't you have some porter?" saidthe commissary officer, still from the tent.

  "I will if you please," said Kozeltzoff.

  "And will you have a drink, Osip Ignatievitch?" went on the voice inthe tent, apparently addressing the sleeping commissioner. "You haveslept enough; it's five o'clock."

  "Why do you worry me? I am not asleep," answered a shrill, languidlittle voice.

  "Come, get up! we find it stupid without you."

  And the commissary officer came out to his guests.

  "Fetch some Simferopol porter!" he shouted.

  A servant entered the booth, with a haughty expression of countenance,as it seemed to Volodya, and, having jostled Volodya, he drew forth theporter from beneath the bench.

  The bottle of porter was soon emptied, and the conversation hadproceeded in the same style for rather a long time when the flap ofthe tent flew open and out stepped a short, fresh-colored man, in ablue dressing-gown with tassels, in a cap with a red rim and a cockade.At the moment of his appearance, he was smoothing his small blackmoustache, and, with his gaze fixed on the rugs, he replied to thegreetings of the officer with a barely perceptible movement of theshoulders.

  "I will drink a small glassful too!" said he, seating himself by thetable. "What is this, have you come from Petersburg, young man?" hesaid, turning courteously to Volodya.

  "Yes, sir, I am on my way to Sevastopol."

  "Did you make the application yourself?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "What queer tastes you have, gentlemen! I do not understand it!"continued the commissioner. "It strikes me that I should be ready justnow to travel on foot to Petersburg, if I could get away. By Heavens, Iam tired of this cursed life!"

  "What is there about it that does not suit you?" said the elderKozeltzoff, turning to him. "You're the very last person to complain oflife here!"

  The commissioner cast a look upon him, and then turned away.

  "This danger, these privations, it is impossible to get anythinghere," he continued, addressing Volodya. "And why you should takesuch a freak, gentlemen, I really cannot understand. If there were anyadvantages to be derived from it, but there is nothing of the sort. Itwould be a nice thing, now, wouldn't it, if you, at your age, were tobe left a cripple for life!"

  "Some need the money, and some serve for honor's sake!" said the elderKozeltzoff, in a tone of vexation, joining the discussion once more.

  "What's the good of honor, when there's nothing to eat!" said thecommissioner with a scornful laugh, turning to the commissary, who alsolaughed at this. "Give us something from 'Lucia'; we will listen," hesaid, pointing to the music-box. "I love it."

  "Well, is that Vasily Mikhailitch a fine man?" Volodya asked hisbrother when they emerged, at dusk, from the booth, and pursued theirway to Sevastopol.

  "Not at all; but such a niggard that it is a perfect terror! And Ican't bear the sight of that commissioner, and I shall give him athrashing one of these days."

  IX.

  Volodya was not precisely out of sorts when, nearly at nightfall,they reached the great bridge over the bay, but he felt a certainheaviness at his heart. All that he had heard and seen was so littlein consonance with the impressions which had recently passed away; thehuge, light examination hall, with its polished floor, the kind andmerry voices and laughter of his comrades, the new uniform, his belovedtsar, whom he had been accustomed to see for the last seven years, andwho, when he took leave of them, had called them his children, withtears in his eyes,--and everything that he had seen so little resembledhis very beautiful, rainbow-hued, magnificent dreams.

  "Well, here we are at last!" said the elder brother, when they arrivedat the Mikhailovsky battery, and dismounted from their cart. "Ifthey let us pass the bridge, we will go directly to the Nikolaevskybarracks. You stay there until morning, and I will go to the regimentand find out where your battery is stationed, and to-morrow I will comefor you."

  "But why? It would be better if we both went together," said Volodya;"I will go to the bastion with you. It won't make any difference; Ishall have to get used to it. If you go, then I can too."

  "Better not go."

  "No, if you please; I do know, at least, that...."

  "My advice is, not to go; but if you choose...."

  The sky was clear and dark; the stars, and the fires of the bombsin incessant movement and discharges, were gleaming brilliantlythrough the gloom. The large white building of the battery, and thebeginning of the bridge stood out in the darkness. Literally, everysecond several discharges of artillery and explosions, following eachother in quick succession or occurring simultaneously, shook the airwith increasing thunder and distinctness. Through this roar, and asthough repeating it, the melancholy dash of the waves was audible. Afaint breeze was drawing in from the sea, and the air was heavy withmoisture. The brothers stepped upon the bridge. A soldier struck hisgun awkwardly against his arm, and shouted:--

  "Who goes there?"

  "A soldier."

  "The orders are not to let any one pass!"

  "What of that! We have business! We must pass!"

  "Ask the officer."

  The officer, who was drowsing as he sat on an anchor, rose up and gavethe order to let them pass.

  "You can go that way, but not this. Where are you driving to, all in aheap!" he cried to the transport wagons piled high with gabions, whichhad clustered about the entrance.

  As they descended to the first pontoon, the brothers encounteredsoldiers who were coming thence, and talking loudly.

  "If he has received his ammunition money, then he has squared hisaccounts in full--that's what it is!"

  "Eh, brothers!" said another voice, "when you get over on theSevernaya you will see the world, by heavens! The air is entirelydifferent."

  "You may say more!" said the first speaker. "A cursed shell flew inthere the other day, and it tore the legs off of two sailors, sothat...."

  The brothers traversed the first pontoon, while waiting for the wagon,and halted on the second, which was already flooded with water inparts. The breeze, which had seemed weak inland, was very powerfulhere, and came in gusts; the bridge swayed to and fro, and the waves,beating noisily against the beams, and tearing at the cables andanchors, flooded the planks. At the right the gloomily hostile searoared and darkled, as it lay separated by an interminable level blackline from the starry horizon, which was light gray in its gleam; lightsflashed afar on the enemy's fleet; on the left towered the blackmasts of one of our vessels, and the waves could be heard as theybeat against her hull; a steamer was visible, as it moved noisily andswiftly from the Severnaya.

  The flash of a bomb, as it burst near it, illuminated for a momentthe lofty heaps of gabions on the deck, two men who were standingon it, and the white foam and the spurts of greenish waves, as thesteamer ploughed through them. On the edge of the bridge, with hislegs dangling in the water, sat a man in his shirt-sleeves, whowas repairing something connected with the bridge. In front, overSevastopol, floated the same fires, and the terrible sounds grew louderand louder. A wave rolled in from the sea, flowed
over the right sideof the bridge, and wet Volodya's feet; two soldiers passed them,dragging their feet through the water. Something suddenly burst with acrash and lighted up the bridge ahead of them, the wagon driving overit, and a man on horseback. The splinters fell into the waves with ahiss, and sent up the water in splashes.

  "Ah, Mikhailo Semyonitch!" said the rider, stopping, reining in hishorse in front of the elder Kozeltzoff, "have you fully recoveredalready?"

  "As you see. Whither is God taking you?"

  "To the Severnaya, for cartridges; I am on my way to the adjutant ofthe regiment ... we expect an assault to-morrow, at any