Sevastopol Page 19

Kozeltzoff,had arrived, and so forth; some even approached, and the drummercongratulated him.

  "How are you, Obantchuk?" said Kozeltzoff. "Are you all right?Good-day, children!" he said, raising his voice.

  "We wish you health!" sounded through the casemate.

  "How are you getting on, children?"

  "Badly, Your Honor. The French are getting the better of us.--Fightingfrom behind the fortifications is bad work, and that's all there isabout it! and they won't come out into the open field."

  "Perhaps luck is with me, and God will grant that they shall come outinto the field, children!" said Kozeltzoff. "It won't be the first timethat you and I have taken a hand together: we'll beat them again."

  "We'll be glad to try it, Your Honor!" exclaimed several voices.

  "And how about them--are they really bold?"

  "Frightfully bold!" said the drummer, not loudly, but so that his wordswere audible, turning to another soldier, as though justifying beforehim the words of the commander, and persuading him that there wasnothing boastful or improbable in these words.

  From the soldiers, Kozeltzoff proceeded to the defensive barracks andhis brother officers.

  XVI.

  In the large room of the barracks there was a great number of men;naval, artillery, and infantry officers. Some were sleeping, otherswere conversing, seated on the shot-chests and gun-carriages of thecannons of the fortifications; others still, who formed a very numerousand noisy group behind the arch, were seated upon two felt rugs, whichhad been spread on the floor, and were drinking porter and playingcards.

  "Ah! Kozeltzoff, Kozeltzoff! Capital! it's a good thing that he hascome! He's a brave fellow!... How's your wound?" rang out from variousquarters. Here also it was evident that they loved him and wererejoiced at his coming.

  After shaking hands with his friends, Kozeltzoff joined the noisygroup of officers engaged in playing cards. There were some of hisacquaintances among them. A slender, handsome, dark-complexioned man,with a long, sharp nose and a huge moustache, which began on hischeeks, was dealing the cards with his thin, white, taper fingers,on one of which there was a heavy gold seal ring. He was dealingstraight on, and carelessly, being evidently excited by something,--andmerely desirous of making a show of heedlessness. On his right, andbeside him, lay a gray-haired major, supporting himself on his elbow,and playing for half a ruble with affected coolness, and settling upimmediately. On his left squatted an officer with a red, perspiringface, who was laughing and jesting in a constrained way. When hiscards won, he moved one hand about incessantly in his empty trouserspocket. He was playing high, and evidently no longer for ready money,which displeased the handsome, dark-complexioned man. A thin and pallidofficer with a bald head, and a huge nose and mouth, was walking aboutthe room, holding a large package of bank-notes in his hand, stakingready money on the bank, and winning.

  Kozeltzoff took a drink of vodka, and sat down by the players.

  "Take a hand, Mikhail Semyonitch!" said the dealer to him; "you havebrought lots of money, I suppose."

  "Where should I get any money! On the contrary, I got rid of the last Ihad in town."

  "The idea! Some one certainly must have fleeced you in Simpferopol."

  "I really have but very little," said Kozeltzoff, but he was evidentlydesirous that they should not believe him; then he unbuttoned his coat,and took the old cards in his hand.

  "I don't care if I do try; there's no knowing what the Evil One willdo! queer things do come about at times. But I must have a drink, toget up my courage."

  And within a very short space of time he had drunk another glass ofvodka and several of porter, and had lost his last three rubles.

  A hundred and fifty rubles were written down against the little,perspiring officer.

  "No, he will not bring them," said he, carelessly, drawing a fresh card.

  "Try to send it," said the dealer to him, pausing a moment in hisoccupation of laying out the cards, and glancing at him.

  "Permit me to send it to-morrow," repeated the perspiring officer,rising, and moving his hand about vigorously in his empty pocket.

  "Hm!" growled the dealer, and, throwing the cards angrily to the rightand left, he completed the deal. "But this won't do," said he, when hehad dealt the cards. "I'm going to stop. It won't do, Zakhar Ivanitch,"he added, "we have been playing for ready money and not on credit."

  "What, do you doubt me? That's strange, truly!"

  "From whom is one to get anything?" muttered the major, who had wonabout eight rubles. "I have lost over twenty rubles, but when I havewon--I get nothing."

  "How am I to pay," said the dealer, "when there is no money on thetable?"

  "I won't listen to you!" shouted the major, jumping up, "I am playingwith you, but not with him."

  All at once the perspiring officer flew into a rage.

  "I tell you that I will pay to-morrow; how dare you say suchimpertinent things to me?"

  "I shall say what I please! This is not the way to do--that's thetruth!" shouted the major.

  "That will do, Feodor Feodoritch!" all chimed in, holding back themajor.

  But let us draw a veil over this scene. To-morrow, to-day, it may be,each one of these men will go cheerfully and proudly to meet his death,and he will die with firmness and composure; but the one consolation oflife in these conditions, which terrify even the coldest imagination inthe absence of all that is human, and the hopelessness of any escapefrom them, the one consolation is forgetfulness, the annihilationof consciousness. At the bottom of the soul of each lies that noblespark, which makes of him a hero; but this spark wearies of burningclearly--when the fateful moment comes it flashes up into a flame, andilluminates great deeds.

  XVII.

  On the following day, the bombardment proceeded with the same vigor.At eleven o'clock in the morning, Volodya Kozeltzoff was seated ina circle of battery officers, and, having already succeeded to someextent in habituating himself to them, he was surveying the new faces,taking observations, making inquiries, and telling stories.

  The discreet conversation of the artillery officers, which made somepretensions to learning, pleased him and inspired him with respect.Volodya's shy, innocent, and handsome appearance disposed the officersin his favor.

  The eldest officer in the battery, the captain, a short,sandy-complexioned man, with his hair arranged in a topknot, and smoothon the temples, educated in the old traditions of the artillery, asquire of dames, and a would-be learned man, questioned Volodya as tohis acquirements in artillery and new inventions, jested caressinglyover his youth and his pretty little face, and treated him, ingeneral, as a father treats a son, which was extremely agreeable toVolodya.

  Sub-Lieutenant Dyadenko, a young officer, who talked with a LittleRussian accent, had a tattered cloak and dishevelled hair, althoughhe talked very loudly, and constantly seized opportunities to disputeacrimoniously over some topic, and was very abrupt in his movements,pleased Volodya, who, beneath this rough exterior, could not helpdetecting in him a very fine and extremely good man. Dyadenko wasincessantly offering his services to Volodya, and pointing out to himthat not one of the guns in Sevastopol was properly placed, accordingto rule.

  Lieutenant Tchernovitzky, with his brows elevated on high, though hewas more courteous than any of the rest, and dressed in a coat thatwas tolerably clean, but not new, and carefully patched, and thoughhe displayed a gold watch-chain on a satin waistcoat, did not pleaseVolodya. He kept inquiring what the Emperor and the minister of warwere doing, and related to him, with unnatural triumph, the deeds ofvalor which had been performed in Sevastopol, complained of the smallnumber of true patriots, and displayed a great deal of learning, andsense, and noble feeling in general; but, for some reason, all thisseemed unpleasant and unnatural to Volodya. The principal thing whichhe noticed was that the other officers hardly spoke to Tchernovitzky.

  Yunker Vlang, whom he had waked up on the preceding evening, was alsothere. He said nothing, but, seated modestly in a corner, la
ughed whenanything amusing occurred, refreshed their memories when they forgotanything, handed the vodka, and made cigarettes for all the officers.Whether it was the modest, courteous manners of Volodya, who treatedhim exactly as he did the officers, and did not torment him as thoughhe were a little boy, or his agreeable personal appearance whichcaptivated Vlang_a_, as the soldiers called him, declining his name,for some reason or other, in the feminine gender, at all events, henever took his big, kind eyes from the face of the new officer. Hedivined and anticipated all his wishes, and remained uninterruptedly ina sort of lover-like ecstasy, which, of course, the officers perceived,and made fun of.

  Before dinner, the staff-captain was relieved from the battery, andjoined their company.