“It was not dear, if the horse is young,” said Kozeltzoff.
“Really! but they told us that it was dear. Only, she limps a little, but that will pass off. They told us that she was very strong.”
“What academy are you from?” asked Kozeltzoff, who wished to inquire for his brother.
“We are just from the academy of the nobility; there are six of us, and we are on our way to Sevastopol at our own desire,” said the talkative young officer. “But we do not know where our battery is; some say that it is in Sevastopol, others that it is at Odessa.”
“Was it not possible to find out at Simferopol?” asked Kozeltzoff.
“They do not know there. Just imagine, one of our comrades went to the headquarters there, and they were impertinent to him. You can imagine how disagreeable that was! Would you like to have me make you a cigarette,” he said at that moment to the one-armed officer, who was just pulling out his cigarette-machine.
He waited on the latter with a sort of servile enthusiasm.
“And are you from Sevastopol also?” he went on. “Oh, good Heavens, how wonderful that is! How much we did think of you, and of all our heroes, in Petersburg,” he said, turning to Kozeltzoff with respect and good-natured flattery.
“And now, perhaps, you may have to go back?” inquired the lieutenant.