I. R. Glass about
"Fools," that I admired a contest so widely extended as to embrace
oration, parliamentary usage and athletics, that I liked very much the
"class Ruysdael," "costing in the neighbourhood of $100," and the
"manufactured articles from abroad, illustrative of the habits and
customs of foreigners."

Nikitin came up to me. "Will you please set off at once with Mr. to
Vulatch?" he said. "Find there Colonel Maximoff and get direct orders
from him. Return as soon as possible. They say we're not likely to
have wounded until late this afternoon--a good thing as a lot wants
doing to this place. Hasten, Ivan Andreievitch. No time to lose."

Vulatch was a little town situated ten versts to our right in the
Forest. I had heard of its strange position before, quite a town and
yet lying in the very heart of the Forest, as though it had been the
settlement of some early colonists. It had running through it a good
high road, but otherwise was far removed from the outer world. It had
during the war been twice bombarded and was now, I believed, ruined
and deserted. For the moment it was the headquarters of the
Sixty-Fifth Staff. I was frankly frightened of going alone with
Trenchard--frightened both of myself and of him. I told him and
without a word he went with me. When we started off in the wagon I
looked at him. He was sitting on the straw, very quietly, his hands
folded, looking in front of him. He seemed older: the sentimental
naivete that had been always in his face seemed now entirely to have
left him. He had always looked before as though he wanted some one to
help him out of a position that was too difficult for him; now he was
alone in a world where no one could reach him. During the whole drive
to Vulatch we exchanged no word. The sound of the cannon was distant
but incessant, and strangely, as it seemed to me, we were alone. Once
and again soldiers passed us, sometimes wagons with kitchens or
provisions met us on the road, sometimes groups of men were waiting by
the roadside, once we saw them setting up telegraph wires, once a
desolate band of Austrian prisoners crossed our path, twice wagons
with wounded rumbled along--but for the most part we were alone. We
were out of the main track of the battle. It was as though the Forest
had arranged this that it might the more impress us. Our road,
although it was the high road, was rough and uneven and we advanced
slowly: with every step that the horses took I was t