n for the last quarter of a century, and
the brindled cow that's just recovering from the measles. How they are
all to get on without me, and nobody left to look after them but an old
sister as tall as myself, and in the last stages of a decline--"

At this point the scout, as Corporal Shoveloff had dubbed him, was
interrupted by a roar of laughter from his comrades, in which the
"corporal" joined heartily.

"Well, well," said the latter, who was not easily quelled either
mentally or physically, "I admit that you have good cause for
despondency; nevertheless a man like you ought to keep up his spirits--
if it were only for the sake of example to young fellows, now, like
Andre Yanovitch there, who seems to have buried all his relatives before
starting for the wars."

The youth on whom Shoveloff tried to turn the laugh of his own
discomfiture was a splendid fellow, tall and broad-shouldered enough for
a man of twenty-five, though his smooth and youthful face suggested
sixteen. He had been staring at the fire, regardless of what was going
on around.

"What did you say?" he cried, starting up and reddening violently.

"Come, come, corporal," said Sergeant Gotsuchakoff, interposing, "no
insinuations. Andre Yanovitch will be ten times the man you are when he
attains to your advanced age.--Off with that kettle, lads; it must be
more than cooked by this time, and there is nothing so bad for digestion
as overdone meat."

It chanced that night, after the men were rolled in their cloaks, that
Dobri Petroff found himself lying close to Andre under the same bush.

"You don't sleep," he said, observing that the young soldier moved
frequently. "Thinking of home, like me, no doubt?"

"That was all nonsense," said the youth sharply, "about the cow, and
your mother and sister, wasn't it?"

"Of course it was. Do you think I was going to give a straight answer
to a fool like Shoveloff?"

"But you _have_ left a mother behind you, I suppose?" said Andre, in a
low voice.

"No, lad, no; my mother died when I was but a child, and has left naught
but the memory of an angel on my mind."

The scout said no more for a time, but the tone of his voice had opened
the heart of the young dragoon. After a short silence he ventured to
ask a few more questions. The scout replied cheerfully, and, from one
thing to another, they went on until, discovering that they were
sympathetic spirits, they became confidante, and each told to the o