The stranger in the fur jacket took no share in the conversation, obstinately refused to drink the tea which I several times offered him, and as he sat there on the ground in Tartar fashion, occupied himself in making cigarettes of fine-cut tobacco, and smoking them one after another, evidently not so much for his own satisfaction as to give himself the appearance of a man with something to do.  When it was remarked that the summons to return was expected on the morrow, and that there might be an engagement, he lifted himself on his knees, and, addressing Captain B. only, said that he had been at the adjutant’s, and had himself written the order for the return on the next day.  We all said nothing while he was speaking; and notwithstanding the fact that he was so bashful, we begged him to repeat this most interesting piece of news.  He repeated what he had said, adding only that he had been staying at the adjutant’s (since he made it his home there) when the order came.

“Look here, old fellow, if you are not telling us false, I shall have to go to my company and give some orders for to-morrow,” said Captain S.

“No . . . why . . . it may be, I am sure,” . . . stammered the stranger, but suddenly stopped, and, apparently feeling himself affronted, contracted his brows, and, muttering something between his teeth, again began to roll a cigarette.  But the fine-cut tobacco in his chintz pouch began to show signs of giving out, and he asked S. to lend him a little cigarette. [Footnote:  PAPIROSTCHKA, diminished diminutive of PAPIROSKA, from papiros.]

We kept on for a considerable time with that monotonous military chatter which every one who has ever been on an expedition will appreciate; all of us, with one and the same expression, complaining of the dullness and length of the expedition, in one and the same fashion sitting in judgment on our superiors, and all of us likewise, as we had done many times before, praising one comrade, pitying another, wondering how much this one had gained, how much that one had lost, and so on, and so on.

“Here, fellows, this adjutant of ours is completely broken up,” said Captain S.  “At headquarters he was everlastingly on the winning side; no matter whom he sat down with, he’d rake in everything:  but now for two months past he has been losing all the time.  The present expedition hasn’t been lucky for him.  I think he has got away with two thousand silver rubles and five hundred rubles’ worth of articles,—­the carpet that he won at Mukhin’s, Nikitin’s pistols, Sada’s gold watch which Vorontsof gave him.  He has lost it all.”

“The truth of the matter in his case,” said Lieutenant O., “was that he used to cheat everybody; it was impossible to play with him.”

“He cheated every one, but now it’s all gone up in his pipe;” and here Captain S. laughed good-naturedly.  “Our friend Guskof here lives with him.  He hasn’t quite lost him yet:  that’s so, isn’t it, old fellow?” [Footnote:  Batenka] he asked, addressing Guskof.