Volodya was impressed by the size of the commissary officer, by his carelessness of manner, and by the respect with which his brother addressed him.
“It must be that this is one of their very fine officers, whom every one respects. Really, he is simple, but hospitable and brave,” he thought, seating himself in a timid and modest manner on the sofa.
“Where is our regiment stationed, then?” called out his elder brother into the board hut.
“What?”
He repeated his query.
“Zeifer has been here to-day. He told me that they had removed to the fifth bastion.”
“Is that true?”
“If I say so, it must be true; but the deuce only knows anyway! He would think nothing of telling a lie. Won't you have some porter?” said the commissary officer, still from the tent.
“I will if you please,” said Kozeltzoff.