At twelve o'clock, the puffs of smoke began to occur less and less frequently, and the atmosphere quivered less with the roar.
“But the second bastion is no longer replying at all,” said the officer of hussars, who sat there on horseback; “it is utterly destroyed! Horrible!”
“Yes, and the Malakoff only sends one shot to their three,” replied the officer who was looking through his glass. “It enrages me to have them silent. They are firing straight on the Kornilovsky battery, and it is not answering at all.”
“But you see that they always cease the bombardment at twelve o'clock, just as I said. It is the same to-day. Let us go and get some breakfast ... they are already waiting for us ... there's nothing to see.”
“Stop, don't interfere,” said the officer with the glass, gazing at Sevastopol with peculiar eagerness.
“What's going on there? What is it?”
“There is a movement in the trenches, and heavy columns are marching.”
“Yes, that is evident,” said the other. “The columns are under way. We must give the signal.”
“See, see! They have emerged from the trenches.”