“To the Emperor who wishes us well!”
Vassileffsky started, and gave me a penetrating look.
He did not venture to put a question to me, however, and contented himself with drinking the toast in silence.
Determined not to say anything as long as the Captain remained sober, I plied him with champagne in increasing quantities, while taking as little as possible myself.
On his side Vassileffsky was equally reserved. He saw, of course, that I had a special object in courting his friendship, and was cunning enough to let me make the first advance.
As soon as I thought the wine had had time to confuse his faculties, I leaned forward and whispered,
“I’ve got something to say to you about Petrovitch.”
The Captain looked at me eagerly.
“Do you know where he is?”
“Not so loud. Yes. He has had to disguise himself.”