hour."
"And where is Martzoff?"
"He lost a leg yesterday; he was in the town, asleep in his room....Perhaps you know it?"
"The regiment is in the fifth bastion, isn't it?"
"Yes; it has taken the place of the M---- regiment. Go to thefield-hospital; some of our men are there, and they will show you theway."
"Well, and are my quarters on the Morskaya still intact?"
"Why, my good fellow, they were smashed to bits long ago by the bombs.You will not recognize Sevastopol now; there's not a single woman therenow, nor any inns nor music; the last establishment took its departureyesterday. It has become horribly dismal there now.... Farewell!"
And the officer rode on his way at a trot.
All at once, Volodya became terribly frightened; it seemed to himas though a cannon-ball or a splinter of bomb would fly in theirdirection, and strike him directly on the head. This damp darkness,all these sounds, especially the angry splashing of the waves, seemedto be saying to him that he ought not to go any farther, that nothinggood awaited him yonder, that he would never again set foot on theground upon this side of the bay, that he must turn about at once, andflee somewhere or other, as far as possible from this terrible hauntof death. "But perhaps it is too late now, everything is settled,"thought he, trembling partly at this thought and partly because thewater had soaked through his boots and wet his feet.
Volodya heaved a deep sigh, and went a little apart from his brother.
"Lord, will they kill me--me in particular? Lord, have mercy on me!"said he, in a whisper, and he crossed himself.
"Come, Volodya, let us go on!" said the elder brother, when theirlittle cart had driven upon the bridge. "Did you see that bomb?"
On the bridge, the brothers met wagons filled with the wounded, withgabions, and one loaded with furniture, which was driven by a woman. Onthe further side no one detained them.
Clinging instinctively to the walls of the Nikolaevsky battery, thebrothers listened in silence to the noise of the bombs, explodingoverhead, and to the roar of the fragments, showering down from above,and came to that spot in the battery where the image was. There theylearned that the fifth light battery, to which Volodya had beenassigned, was stationed on the Korabelnaya, and they decided that heshould go, in spite of the danger, and pass the night with the elderin the fifth bastion, and that he should from there join his batterythe next day. They turned into the corridor, stepping over the legsof the sleeping soldiers, who were lying all along the walls of thebattery, and at last they arrived at the place where the wounded wereattended to.
X.
As they entered the first room, surrounded with cots on which lay thewounded, and permeated with that frightful and disgusting hospitalodor, they met two Sisters of Mercy, who were coming to meet them.
One woman, of fifty, with black eyes, and a stern expression ofcountenance, was carrying bandages and lint, and was giving strictorders to a young fellow, an assistant surgeon, who was following her;the other, a very pretty girl of twenty, with a pale and delicatelittle fair face, gazed in an amiably helpless way from beneath herwhite cap, held her hands in the pockets of her apron, as she walkedbeside the elder woman, and seemed to be afraid to quit her side.
Kozeltzoff addressed to them the question whether they knew whereMartzoff was--the man whose leg had been torn off on the day before.
"He belonged to the P---- regiment, did he not?" inquired the elder. "Ishe a relative of yours?"
"No, a comrade."
"Show them the way," said she, in French, to the young sister. "Here,this way," and she approached a wounded man, in company with theassistant.
"Come along; what are you staring at?" said Kozeltzoff to Volodya,who, with uplifted eyebrows and somewhat suffering expression ofcountenance, could not tear himself away, but continued to stare at thewounded. "Come, let us go."
Volodya went off with his brother, still continuing to gaze about him,however, and repeating unconsciously:--
"Ah, my God! Ah, my God!"
"He has probably not been here long?" inquired the sister ofKozeltzoff, pointing at Volodya, who, groaning and sighing, followedthem through the corridor.
"He has but just arrived."
The pretty little sister glanced at Volodya, and suddenly burst outcrying. "My God! my God! when will there be an end to all this?"she said, with the accents of despair. They entered the officer'shut. Martzoff was lying on his back, with his muscular arms, bareto the elbow, thrown over his head, and with the expression on hisyellow face of a man who is clenching his teeth in order to keep fromshrieking with pain. His whole leg, in its stocking, was thrust outsidethe coverlet, and it could be seen how he was twitching his toesconvulsively inside it.
"Well, how goes it, how do you feel?" asked the sister, raising hisbald head with her slender, delicate fingers, on one of which Volodyanoticed a gold ring, and arranging his pillow. "Here are some of yourcomrades come to inquire after you."
"Badly, of course," he answered, angrily. "Let me alone! it's allright,"--the toes in his stocking moved more rapidly than ever."How do you do? What is your name? Excuse me," he said, turning toKozeltzoff.... "Ah, yes, I beg your pardon! one forgets everythinghere," he said, when the latter had mentioned his name. "You andI lived together," he added, without the slightest expression ofpleasure, glancing interrogatively at Volodya.
"This is my brother, who has just arrived from Petersburg to-day."
"Hm! Here I have finished my service," he said, with a frown. "Ah, howpainful it is!... The best thing would be a speedy end."
He drew up his leg, and covered his face with his hands, continuing tomove his toes with redoubled swiftness.
"You must leave him," said the sister, in a whisper, while the tearsstood in her eyes; "he is in a very bad state."
The brothers had already decided on the north side to go to the fifthbastion; but, on emerging from the Nikolaevsky battery, they seemedto have come to a tacit understanding not to subject themselvesto unnecessary danger, and, without discussing the subject, theydetermined to go their ways separately.
"Only, how are you to find your way, Volodya?" said the elder."However, Nikolaeff will conduct you to the Korabelnaya, and I will gomy way alone, and will be with you to-morrow."
Nothing more was said at this last leave-taking between the brothers.
XI.
The thunder of the cannon continued with the same power as before, butYekaterinskaya street, along which Volodya walked, followed by thetaciturn Nikolaeff, was quiet and deserted. All that he could see,through the thick darkness, was the wide street with the white walls oflarge houses, battered in many places, and the stone sidewalk beneathhis feet; now and then, he met soldiers and officers. As he passedalong the left side of the street, near the Admiralty building, heperceived, by the light of a bright fire burning behind the wall, theacacias planted along the sidewalk, with green guards beneath, and thewretchedly dusty leaves of these acacias.
He could plainly hear his own steps and those of Nikolaeff, whofollowed him, breathing heavily. He thought of nothing; the prettylittle Sister of Mercy, Martzoff's leg with the toes twitching in itsstocking, the bombs, the darkness, and divers pictures of death floatedhazily through his mind. All his young and sensitive soul shranktogether, and was borne down by his consciousness of loneliness, andthe indifference of every one to his fate in the midst of danger.
"They will kill me, I shall be tortured, I shall suffer, and no onewill weep." And all this, instead of the hero's life, filled withenergy and sympathy, of which he had cherished such glorious dreams.The bombs burst and shrieked nearer and ever nearer. Nikolaeff sighedmore frequently, without breaking the silence. On crossing the bridgeleading to the Korabelnaya, he saw something fly screaming into thebay, not far from him, which lighted up the lilac waves for an instantwith a crimson glow, then disappeared, and threw on high a cloud offoam.
"See there, it was not put out!" said Nikolaeff, hoarsely.
"Yes," answered Vol
odya, involuntarily, and quite unexpectedly tohimself, in a thin, piping voice.
They encountered litters with wounded men, then more regimentaltransports with gabions; they met a regiment on Korabelnaya street;men on horseback passed them. One of them was an officer, with hisCossack. He was riding at a trot, but, on catching sight of Volodya, hereined in his horse near him, looked into his face, turned and rode on,giving the horse a blow of his whip.
"Alone, alone; it is nothing to any one whether I am in existence ornot," thought the lad, and he felt seriously inclined to cry.
After ascending the hill, past a high white wall, he entered a streetof small ruined houses, incessantly illuminated by bombs. A drunken anddishevelled woman, who was coming out of a small door in