Balgonie was rather weary after his long and desultory ride by rough and unfrequented roads, chiefly devious forest paths; he felt thirsty, and looked at the pitcher of quass.
"Will his Excellency drink?" asked Nicholas Paulovitch, in his hoarse and husky voice.
Now as quass is simply a species of sour beer, made of rye and oatmeal, coloured by a red berry, and is generally the beverage by which the Russians wash down their coarse bread and salt, Balgonie declined: the Stepniak proposed to add thereto a dash of train oil; but the suggestion made the young officer shudder.
"I have fortunately one bottle of Rhine wine," said the woodman, with a rapid and furtive glance at his comrades; "his Excellency will doubtless honour us by taking it with his supper, at least with such fare as the forest produces, a stewed rabbit or so."
"I thank you, good fellow. Where is this cottage situated?"
"Situated," repeated Nicholas, with a quick and uneasy glance at the Corporal, fearing there might be some discrepancy in their information.
"Yes, in what part of the country?" said Podatchkine; "for we naturally wish to know."
"Near Velie."
"Then I am somewhere about forty versts from the Louga?"
"Yes, Excellency, precisely," replied the rascal.