Sevastopol Sketches by Leo Tolstoy

Author:Leo Tolstoy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Leo Tolstoy, Crimea, Sebastopol, Ukraine, War, Russian Empire, philosophical, psychological, epic, historical, all time classic, world classic, identity, spirituality, Russia, Russian classic
Publisher: Sovereign Classic
Published: 2014-10-03T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

“I say, isn’t it an awful nuisance that we’re so near and still can’t get there,” said one of the young officers. “There may be an action to-day and we shan’t be in it.”

The piping voice and the fresh rosy spots which appeared on his face betrayed the sweet, youthful bashfulness of one in constant fear that his words may come out wrong.

The officer who had lost an arm looked at him with a smile.

“You will get there quite soon enough, believe me,” he said.

The young man looked with respect at the armless officer—whose emaciated face unexpectedly lit up with a smile—and became silently absorbed in making his tea. And, really, the face, the attitude, and especially the empty sleeve of the officer, expressed a kind of calm indifference, that seemed to reply to every word and action: “All this is excellent, all this I know, and all this I can do if I only wish to.”

“Well, and how shall we decide it?” the young officer began again, turning to his comrade in the Caucasian coat “Shall we stay the night here, or go on with our own horse?”

His comrade decided to stay.

“Just fancy, Captain,” continued he who was making the tea, addressing the one-armed officer and handing him a knife he had dropped, “we were told that horses were awfully dear in Sevastopol, so we two bought one together in Simferopol.”

“I expect they made you pay a stiff price.”

“I really don’t know, Captain; we paid ninety roubles for it and the trap. Is that very much?” he said, turning to the company in general, including Kozeltsof, who was looking at him.

“It’s not much if it’s a young horse,” said Kozeltsof.

“You think so? And we were told it was too much. Only it limps a bit, but that will pass. We were told it’s strong.”

“What training-college are you from?” asked Kozeltsof, who wished to get news of his brother.

“We are now from the Nobles’ Regiment. There are six of us, and we are all going to Sevastopol—at our own desire,” said the talkative young officer: “only we don t know where our battery is: some say it is in Sevastopol, but those fellows there say it is in Odessa.”

“Couldn’t you find out in Simferopol?” Kozeltsof asked.

“They didn’t know. Just fancy, one of our comrades went to the Chancellery there and got nothing but rudeness. Just fancy how unpleasant! Would you like a ready-made cigarette?” he said to the one-armed officer, who was trying to get out his cigar-case.

He attended to this officer’s wants with a kind of servile enthusiasm.

“And are you also from Sevastopol?” he continued. “Oh dear, how wonderful it is! How we all in Petersburg used to think about all of you and all our heroes!” he said, addressing Kozeltsof with respect and cordial endearment.

“Well, then you may find you have to go back?” asked the Lieutenant

“That’s just what we are afraid of. Just fancy, when we had bought the horse and got all that we

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