nothing were the matter.

Altogether, his health was remarkable, unprecedented. I have already
told you that until his death he preserved an almost childish freshness
of complexion. He did not know what it was to be ill, in spite of all
his excesses; the vigour of his constitution was not affected in a
single instance. Where any other man would have fallen dangerously ill,
or even have died, he merely shook himself like a duck in the water, and
became more blooming than ever. Once--that also was in the Caucasus....
This legend is improbable, it is true, but from it one can judge what
Misha was regarded as capable of doing.... So then, once, in the
Caucasus, when in a state of intoxication, he fell into a small stream
that covered the lower part of his body; his head and arms remained
exposed on the bank. The affair took place in winter; a rigorous frost
set in; and when he was found on the following morning, his legs and
body were visible beneath a stout crust of ice which had frozen over in
the course of the night--and he never even had a cold in the head in
consequence! On another occasion (this happened in Russia, near
Orel,[10] and also during a severe frost), he chanced to go to a
suburban eating-house in company with seven young theological students.
These theological students were celebrating their graduation
examination, and had invited Misha, as a charming fellow, "a man with a
sigh," as it was called then. They drank a great deal; and when, at
last, the merry crew were preparing to depart, Misha, dead drunk, was
found to be already in a state of unconsciousness. The whole seven
theological students had between them only one troika sledge with a high
back;[11]--where were they to put the helpless body? Then one of the
young men, inspired by classical reminiscences, suggested that Misha be
tied by the feet to the back of the sledge, as Hector was to the chariot
of Achilles! The suggestion was approved ... and bouncing over the
hummocks, sliding sideways down the declivities, with his feet strung up
in the air, and his head dragging through the snow, our Misha traversed
on his back the distance of two versts which separated the restaurant
from the town, and never even so much as coughed or frowned. With such
marvellous health had nature endowed him!

V

Leaving the Caucasus, he presented himself once more in Moscow, in a
Circassian coat, with cartridge-pouches on the breast, a dagger in his
belt, and a