“That wretched wheelbarrow didn’t cost me much,” he went on, “nor the mule either; but it is all I need, though this road is a devil of a pull.”
I offered him my horse to mount when he felt tired; and as I only talked to him gravely and simply of his turn-out, for which he feared mockery, he suddenly put himself at his ease, and, coming near my stirrup, slapped me on the knee, saying:
“Well, you’re a good lad, though you are in the Reds.”
From his bitter tone, in thus designating the four Red Companies, I gathered what malignant prejudices had been aroused in the army by the luxury and the commissions of these corps of officers.
“However,” he added, “I shall not accept your offer, seeing that I cannot ride, and that that’s not my business.”
“But, major, superior officers like yourself have to do so.”
“Pooh! once a year at the inspection, and then on a hired horse. I have always been a sailor, and since then a foot-soldier; I don’t understand horsemanship.”
He walked twenty paces, looking at me sideways from time to time, as if expecting a question: and as no word was forthcoming he continued:
“You aren’t inquisitive, upon my word! What I said just now should have surprised you.”
“I am seldom surprised,” said I.