“Well, you’re a graceful lad!  Where did you think you were going?”

“Well, who can help tripping over these pins, Pavel Dmitrievitch?” said Guskof.  “You tripped over them yourself the other day.”

“I, old man, [Footnote:  batiushka]—­I am not of the rank and file, and such gracefulness is not expected of me.”

“He can be lazy,” said Captain S., keeping the ball rolling, “but low-rank men have to make their legs fly.”

“Ill-timed jest,” said Guskof, almost in a whisper, and casting down his eyes.  The adjutant was evidently vexed with his messmate; he listened with inquisitive attention to every word that he said.

“He’ll have to be sent out into ambuscade again,” said he, addressing S., and pointing to the cashiered officer.

“Well, there’ll be some more tears,” said S., laughing.  Guskof no longer looked at me, but acted as though he were going to take some tobacco from his pouch, though there had been none there for some time.

“Get ready for the ambuscade, old man,” said S., addressing him with shouts of laughter.  “To-day the scouts have brought the news, there’ll be an attack on the camp to-night, so it’s necessary to designate the trusty lads.”  Guskof’s face showed a fleeting smile as though he were preparing to make some reply, but several times he cast a supplicating look at S.

“Well, you know I have been, and I’m ready to go again if I am sent,” he said hastily.

“Then you’ll be sent.”

“Well, I’ll go.  Isn’t that all right?”

“Yes, as at Arguna, you deserted the ambuscade and threw away your gun,” said the adjutant; and turning from him he began to tell us the orders for the next day.

As a matter of fact, we expected from the enemy a cannonade of the camp that night, and the next day some sort of diversion.  While we were still chatting about various subjects of general interest, the adjutant, as though from a sudden and unexpected impulse, proposed to Lieutenant O. to have a little game.  The lieutenant most unexpectedly consented; and, together with S. and the ensign, they went off to the adjutant’s tent, where there was a folding green table with cards on it.  The captain, the commander of our division, went to our tent to sleep; the other gentlemen also separated, and Guskof and I were left alone.  I was not mistaken, it was really very uncomfortable for me to have a tete-a-tete with him; I arose involuntarily, and began to promenade up and down on the battery.  Guskof walked in silence by my side, hastily and awkwardly wheeling around so as not to delay or incommode me.

“I do not annoy you?” he asked in a soft, mournful voice.  So far as I could see his face in the dim light, it seemed to me deeply thoughtful and melancholy.

“Not at all,” I replied; but as he did not immediately begin to speak, and as I did not know what to say to him, we walked in silence a considerably long time.