shrapnel I bent my head and shrugged my shoulders, at
every cry of the wounded men--one man was delirious and sang
a little song--a shudder trembled all down my body. I
thought of the bridge between myself and the Otriad--how
easily it might be blown up! and then, if the Division were
beaten back what massacre there would be! I wanted to go
home, to sleep, to be safe and warm--above all, to be safe!
I saw before me some of the wounded whom I had bandaged
to-day--men without faces or with hanging jaws that must be
held up with the hand whilst the bandage was tied. One man
blind, one man mad (he thought he was drowning in hot
water), one man holding his stomach together with his hands.
I saw all these figures crowding round me in the lane--I
also saw the dead men in the forest, the skull, the flies,
the strong blue-grey trousers.... I shook so that my teeth
chattered--a very pitiful figure.

Well, that was the other night. It was true that to-night I
did not feel frightened--at least not as yet. But then it
was a beautiful evening, very peaceful, still and warm--and
there was Nikitin. In any case there were those two figures
whom I must consider--Semyonov and myself. That brief
conversation last night had brought us quite sharply face to
face. I found to my own surprise that Semyonov's declaration
of his engagement had not been a great shock to me, had not
indeed altered very greatly the earlier situation. But it
had shown me quite clearly that my own love for Marie
Ivanovna was in no way diminished, that I must protect her
from a man who was, I felt, quite simply a "beastly" man.

_Well_, then if Semyonov and I were to fight it out, I would
need to be at my best. Did that little picture of the other
evening show me at my best? This business presented a bigger
fight than the simple one with Semyonov. I knew, quite
clearly, as I lay on my back in the cart, that the fight
against Semyonov and the fight against ... was mingled
together, depended for their issue one upon the other--that
the dead men in the forest had no merely accidental
connexion with Marie Ivanovna's safety and Semyonov's
scornful piracies.

Well, _then_ ... Semyonov and I, I and my old dead uncle,
myself shaking in the road the other night under the rain!