Sevastopol Page 23

the open air. Vlang, theold gun-sergeant, and a few others were the only ones who rarely wentout into the trenches; it was impossible to restrain the rest; theyall scattered about in the fresh morning air, escaping from the fetidair of the bomb-proof, and, in spite of the fact that the bombardmentwas as vigorous as on the preceding evening, they disposed themselvesaround the door, and some even on the breastworks. Melnikoff had beenstrolling about among the batteries since daybreak, and staring up withperfect coolness.

  Near the entrance sat two old soldiers and one young, curly-hairedfellow, a Jew, who had been detailed from the infantry. This soldierpicked up one of the bullets which were lying about, and, havingsmoothed it against a stone with a potsherd, with his knife he carvedfrom it a cross, after the style of the order of St. George; the otherslooked on at his work as they talked. The cross really turned out to bequite handsome.

  "Now, if we stay here much longer," said one of them, "then, when peaceis 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 mytime is up, and I have been in Sevastopol these five months."

  "It is not counted towards the discharge, do you understand," saidanother.

  At that moment, a cannon-ball shrieked over the heads of the speakers,and struck only an arshin away from Melnikoff, who was approaching themfrom 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 theorder," the conversation continued.

  "Think what you please, but when peace is declared, there will be animperial review at Orshava, and if we don't get our discharge, we shallbe 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 oneof the soldiers.

  They all laughed.

  Not only before evening, but before the expiration of two hours, two ofthem received their full discharge, and five were wounded; but the restjested on as before.

  By morning, the two mortars had actually been brought into such acondition that it was possible to fire them. At ten o'clock, inaccordance with the orders which he had received from the commander ofthe bastion, Volodya called out his command, and marched to the batterywith it.

  In the men, as soon as they proceeded to action, there was not a dropof that sentiment of fear perceptible which had been expressed on thepreceding evening. Vlang alone could not control himself; he dodged andducked just as before, and Vasin lost some of his composure, and fussedand fidgeted and changed his place incessantly.

  But Volodya was in an extraordinary state of enthusiasm; the thought ofdanger did not even occur to him. Delight that he was fulfilling hisduty, that he was not only not a coward, but even a valiant fellow, thefeeling that he was in command, and the presence of twenty men, who,as he was aware, were surveying him with curiosity, made a thoroughlybrave man of him. He was even vain of his valor, put on airs beforehis soldiers, climbed up on the banquette, and unbuttoned his coatexpressly that he might render himself the more distinctly visible.

  The commander of the bastion, who was going the rounds of hisestablishment as he expressed it, at the moment, accustomed as he hadbecome during his eight-months experience to all sorts of bravery,could not refrain from admiring this handsome lad, in the unbuttonedcoat, beneath which a red shirt was visible, encircling his soft whiteneck, with his animated face and eyes, as he clapped his hands andshouted: "First! Second!" and ran gayly along the ramparts, in order tosee where his bomb would fall.

  At half-past eleven the firing ceased on both sides, and at preciselytwelve o'clock the storming of the Malakoff mound, of the second,third, and fifth bastions began.

  XXIII.

  On this side of the bay, between Inkerman and the northernfortifications, on the telegraph hill, about midday, stood two navalmen; one was an officer, who was engaged in observing Sevastopolthrough a telescope, and the other had just arrived at thesignal-station with his orderly.

  The sun stood high and brilliant above the bay, and played with theships which floated upon it, and with the moving sails and boats, witha warm and cheerful glow. The light breeze hardly moved the leaves ofthe dry oak-shrubs which stood about the signal-pole, puffed out thesails of the boats, and ruffled the waves.

  Sevastopol, with her unfinished church, her columns, her line ofshore, her boulevard showing green against the hill, and her elegantlibrary building, with her tiny azure inlets, filled with masts, withthe picturesque arches of her aqueducts, and the clouds of blue smoke,lighted up now and then by red flashes of flame from the firing; thesame beautiful, proud, festive Sevastopol, hemmed in on one side byyellow, smoke-crowned hills, on the other by the bright blue sea, whichglittered in the sun, was visible the same as ever, on the other sideof the bay.

  Over the horizon-line of the sea, along which floated a long wreath ofblack smoke from some steamer, crept long white clouds, portending agale. Along the entire line of the fortifications, especially over thehills on the left, rose columns of thick, dense, white smoke; suddenly,abruptly, and incessantly illuminated by flashes, lightnings, whichshone even amid the light of high noon, and which constantly increasedin volume, assuming divers forms, as they swept upwards, and tingedthe heavens. These puffs of smoke flashing now here, now there, tooktheir birth on the hills, in the batteries of the enemy, in the city,and high against the sky. The sound of the discharges never ceased, butshook the air with their mingled roar.

  At twelve o'clock, the puffs of smoke began to occur less and lessfrequently, and the atmosphere quivered less with the roar.

  "But the second bastion is no longer replying at all," said the officerof hussars, who sat there on horseback; "it is utterly destroyed!Horrible!"

  "Yes, and the Malakoff only sends one shot to their three," replied theofficer who was looking through his glass. "It enrages me to have themsilent. They are firing straight on the Kornilovsky battery, and it isnot answering at all."

  "But you see that they always cease the bombardment at twelve o'clock,just as I said. It is the same to-day. Let us go and get some breakfast... they are already waiting for us ... there's nothing to see."

  "Stop, don't interfere," said the officer with the glass, gazing atSevastopol with peculiar eagerness.

  "What's going on there? What is it?"

  "There is a movement in the trenches, and heavy columns are marching."

  "Yes, that is evident," said the other. "The columns are under way. Wemust give the signal."

  "See, see! They have emerged from the trenches."

  In truth, it was visible to the naked eye that dark masses were movingdown the hill, across the narrow valley, from the French batteries tothe bastions. In front of these specks, dark streaks were visible,which were already close to our lines. White puffs of smoke ofdischarges burst out at various points on the bastions, as though thefiring were running along the line.

  The breeze bore to them the sounds of musketry-shots, exchangedbriskly, like rain upon the window-pane. The black streaks moved on,nearer and nearer, into the very smoke. The sounds of firing grewlouder and louder, and mingled in a lengthened, resounding roar.

  The smoke, rising more and more frequently, spread rapidly along theline, flowed together in one lilac-hued cloud, which dispersed andjoined again, and through which, here and there, flitted flames andblack points--and all sounds were commingled in one reverberating crash.

  "An assault," said the officer, with a pale face, as he handed theglass to the naval officer.

  Orderlies galloped along the road, officers on horseback, thecommander-in-chief in a calash, and his suite passed by. Profoundemotion and expectation were visible on all countenances.

&
nbsp; "It cannot be that they have taken it!" said the mounted officer.

  "By Heavens, there's the standard! Look, look!" said the other, sighingand abandoning the glass. "The French standard on the Malakoff!"

  "It cannot be!"

  XXIV.

  The elder Kozeltzoff, who had succeeded in winning back his money andlosing it all again that night, including even the gold pieces whichwere sewed into his cuffs, had fallen, just before daybreak, into aheavy, unhealthy, but profound slumber, in the fortified barracks ofthe fifth battalion, when the fateful cry, repeated by various voices,rang out:--

  "The alarm!"

  "Why are you sleeping, Mikhail Semyonitch! There's an assault!" a voiceshouted to him.

  "That is probably some school-boy," he said, opening his eyes, butputting no faith in