"I, old man,[1]—I am not of the rank and file, and such gracefulness is not expected of me."
"He can be lazy," said Captain S., keeping the ball rolling, "but low-rank men have to make their legs fly."
"Ill-timed jest," said Guskof, almost in a whisper, and casting down his eyes. The adjutant was evidently vexed with his messmate; he listened with inquisitive attention to every word that he said.
"He'll have to be sent out into ambuscade again," said he, addressing S., and pointing to the cashiered officer.
"Well, there'll be some more tears," said S., laughing. Guskof no longer looked at me, but acted as though he were going to take some tobacco from his pouch, though there had been none there for some time.
"Get ready for the ambuscade, old man," said S., addressing him with shouts of laughter. "To-day the scouts have brought the news, there'll be an attack on the camp to-night, so it's necessary to designate the trusty lads."
Guskof's face showed a fleeting smile as though he were preparing to make some reply, but several times he cast a supplicating look at S.
"Well, you know I have been, and I'm ready to go again if I am sent," he said hastily.
- ↑ Bâtiushka.
