"It was you, mate. By God it was. It would seem that you have forgotten."
"Yes, you started all this business," the old soldier corroborated, in dour, ponderous accents.
"Forgotten, indeed? HE?" was Boev's heated exclamation.
"How can you say such a thing? Well, let him not try to shift the responsibility on to others—that's all! WE'LL see, right enough, that he goes through with it!"
To this Ossip made no reply, but gazed frowningly at his dripping, half-clad men.
All at once, with a curious outburst of mingled smiles and tears (it would be hard to say which), he shrugged his shoulders, threw up his hands, and muttered:
"Yes, it IS true. If it please you, it was I that contrived the idea."
"Of COURSE it was!" the old soldier cried triumphantly.
Ossip turned his eyes again to where the river was seething like a bowl of porridge, and, letting his eyes fall with a frown, continued:
"In a moment of forgetfulness I did it. Yet how is it that we were not all drowned? Well, you wouldn't understand even if I were to tell you. No, by God, you wouldn't!... Don't be angry with me, mates. Pardon me for the festival's sake, for I am feeling uneasy of mind. Yes, I it was that egged you on to cross the river, the old fool that I was!"