Volodya stood petrified for a moment, as he saw the corpse waver on the summit of the breastworks, and then roll down into the ditch; but, luckily for him, the commander of the bastion met him there, communicated his orders, and furnished him with a guide to the battery and to the bomb-proofs designated for his service. We will not enumerate the remaining dangers and disenchantments which our hero underwent that evening: how, instead of the firing, such as he had seen on the Volkoff field, according to the rules of accuracy and precision, which he had expected to find here, he found two cracked mortars, one of which had been crushed by a cannon-ball in the muzzle, while the other stood upon the splinters of a ruined platform; how he could not obtain any workmen until the following morning in order to repair the platform; how not a single charge was of the weight prescribed in the "Manual;" how two soldiers of his command were wounded, and how he was twenty times within a hair'sbreadth of death.
Fortunately, there had been assigned for his assistant a gun-captain of gigantic size, a sailor, who had served on the mortars since the beginning of the siege, and who convinced him of the practicability of using them, conducted him all over the bastion, with a lantern, during the night, exactly as though it had been his own kitchengarden, and who promised to put everything in proper shape on the morrow.
The bomb-proof to which his guide conducted him was excavated in the rocky soil, and consisted of a long hole, two cubic fathoms in extent, covered with oaken planks an arshin in thickness. Here he took up his post, with all his soldiers. Viang was the first, when he caught sight of the little door, twenty-eight inches high, of the bombproof, to rush headlong into it, in front of them all, and, after nearly cracking his skull on the stone floor, he huddled down in a corner, from which he did not again emerge.
And Volodya, when all the soldiers had placed themselves along the wall on the floor, and some had lighted their pipes, set up his bed in one corner, lighted a candle, and lay upon his cot, smoking a cigarette.
Shots were incessantly heard, over the bombproof, but they were not very loud, with the exception of those from one cannon, which stood close by and shook the bomb-proof with its thunder. In the bomb-proof itself all was still; the soldiers, who were a little shy, as yet, of the new officer, only exchanged a few words, now and then, as they requested each other to move out of the way or to furnish a light for a pipe. A rat scratched somewhere among the stones, or Viang, who had not yet recovered himself, and who still gazed wildly about him, uttered a sudden vigorous sigh.
Volodya, as he lay on his bed, in his quiet corner, surrounded by the men, and illuminated only by a single candle, experienced that sensation of well-being which he had known as a child, when, in the course of a game of hide-and-seek, he used to crawl into a cupboard or under his mother's skirts, and listen, not daring to draw his breath, and afraid of the dark, and yet conscious of enjoying himself. He felt a little oppressed, but cheerfuL
XXI.
After the lapse of about ten minutes, the soldiers began to change about and to converse together. The most important personages among them — the two gun-sergeants — placed themselves nearest the officer's light and bed; — one was old and gray-haired, with every possible medal and cross except the George; — the other was young, a militia-man, who smoked cigarettes, which he was rolling. The drummer, as usual, assumed the duty of waiting on the officer. The bombardiers and cavalrymen sat next, and then farther away, in the shadow of the entrance, the underlings took up their post. They too began to talk among themselves. It was caused by the hasty entrance of a man into the casemate.
"How now, brother! couldn't you stay in the street.^ Didn't the girls sing merrily.^" said a voice.
" They sing such marvellous songs as were never heard in the village," said the man who had fled into the casemate, with a laugh.
"But Vasin does not love bombs — ah, no, he does not love them!" said one from the aristocratic corner.
'' The idea! It's quite another matter when it's necessary," drawled the voice of Vasin, who made all the others keep silent when he spoke: *' since the 24th, the firing has been going on desperately; and what is there wrong about it? You'll get killed for nothing, and your superiors won't so much as say * Thank you! ' for it."
At these words of Vasin, all burst into a laugh.
"There's Melnikoff, that fellow who will sit outside the door," said some one.