“They didn’t know anything there. Imagine it. They insulted one of our comrades who went to the government office for information! It was very disagreeable. Wouldn’t you like to have this cigarette, already rolled?” he continued, offering it to the one-armed officer, who was looking for his cigar-case.
The young man’s enthusiasm even entered into the little attentions he showered on him.
“You have also just come from Sebastopol?” he rejoined. “Heavens, how astonishing! At Petersburg we did nothing but think of you all, you heroes!” he added, turning to Koseltzoff with good-fellowship and respect.
“What if you are obliged to go back there?” asked the latter.
“That’s just what we are afraid of; for after having bought the horse and what we had to get—this coffee-pot, for example, and a few other trifles—we are left without a penny,” he said, in a lower tone, casting a look at his companion on the sly, “so that we don’t know how we are going to get out of it.”
“You haven’t received money on the road, then?” Koseltzoff asked him.
“No,” murmured the young man, “but they promised to give it to us here.”
“Have you the certificate?”
“I know the certificate is the chief thing. One of my uncles, a Senator at Moscow, could have given it to me, but I was assured I should receive it here without fail.”
“Doubtless.”