"The student" flung himself on the knapsack.
"The devil" fell from his knees on to his back, and stretching out his arms gave forth a choking sound.
"What the deuce!" cried the astonished soldier in the very act of raising his foot to give the man a kick. "What is he groaning for like that? Hie! Hie you! What's the matter? Have you shot yourself or what?"
"There's meat and some pancakes and bread—a whole lot, my brothers!"—and the voice of "the student" crowed with delight.
"But what the deuce ails him?—he is at the last gasp! Come then, let us eat, my friends!" cried the soldier. I had taken the revolver out of the hand of the man who had ceased to groan, and now lay motionless. There was only a single cartridge in the cartridge-box.
Again we ate—ate in silence. The man also lay there in silence, not moving a limb. We paid no attention to him whatever.
"My brothers, I suppose you have done all this simply for the sake of bread?" suddenly exclaimed a hoarse and tremulous voice.
We all started. "The student" even swallowed a crumb, and bending low towards the ground fell a coughing.
The soldier in the midst of his chewing became abusive.
"You soul of a dog! Take care I don't hack you like a clod of wood! Or would you prefer us to flay you alive, eh?—It was ours because we wanted it Shut your foolish mouth, you unclean spirit! A pretty thing!—To go about armed and fire at folks! May you be anathema!"