Then, making themselves snug in the straw, wrapping themselves well in their blankets, fencing in their candle, so that it was sheltered from the draughts, they opened a bottle of brandy, drank a variety of toasts, not forgetting the health of the governor, who they agreed was a brick, they sang a song or two, then blew out the light, and, thoroughly warm and comfortable, were asleep in a minute or two.
A few days later, an officer came in, signed to them to make their blankets into a bundle, and to follow him.
The boys slipped four bottles of spirits which they had still remaining, and also the stock of cigars, into the rolls. Then, holding the bundles on their shoulders, they followed him.
Dick, although still weak on his legs, was now able to walk.
Presently they came to a large party of men, some of whom had their arms in slings, some were bandaged on the head, some lay in stretchers on the ground.
"It is a convoy of wounded," Jack said. "I suppose we're going to be taken into the interior."
An officer, evidently in charge, saluted the boys as they came up, and said something in Russian.
They returned the salute. He was a pleasant-looking fellow with light-blue eyes, and yellowish moustache and beard. He looked at them, and then gave orders to a soldier, who entered the building, and returned with two peasants' cloaks lined with sheep-skin, similar to the one he himself wore.
These were handed to them, and the midshipmen expressed their warmest gratitude to him; their meaning, if not their words, being clearly intelligible.
"These are splendid," Jack said. "They've got hoods too, to go over the head. This is something like comfort. I wish our poor fellows up above there had each got one. It must be awful up on the plateau now. Fancy twelve hours in the trenches, and then twelve hours in the tents, with no fires, and nothing but those thin great-coats, and scarcely anything to eat. Now there's a move."