senior Major. From the first day of camp
life, Colonel Brodsky had taken his meals in his tent--ostensibly alone.
And, even when every officer and servant in the regiment could see
Brodsky's orderly running back and forth from the mess-kitchen to his
tent, carrying bottle after bottle of sparkling golden wine, the reason
given was still the same: "The Colonel is too much occupied with
regimental affairs to appear at mess."

Many a laugh had gone round the table at this excuse. But by now the
joke was growing bitter; for every private in the camp spluttered in his
_kvass_ at the mere mention of the leader of that once gallant regiment.
Within the month, the whole Second was suffering, keenly, under their
disgrace. And for this reason the youngest lieutenant, when he entered
the mess-room on the evening after his talk with de Windt, found himself
the hero of the table. For Vladimir had taken pains, that day, to
intimate pretty clearly to one or two comrades Ivan's expressed purpose.
Throughout the meal the prospect was discussed, indirectly, or in
whispers, between man and man; but even Ivan was a little startled when,
supper ended, there came a sudden lifting of glasses to him, and a toast
was drunk which, though silent, was unanimous. A moment or two later the
young officer, with a visible straightening of his body, rose, bowed,
and walked out of the tent. None followed him; for it was instinctively
understood that he should return to report his failure or success,
before retiring for the night.

The ranked order of the table was now broken up. The men pulled their
chairs into informal groups, and sat together puffing at cigarettes,
sipping tea, and talking, in a desultory fashion, while the underlying
tension increased, and more than one man wondered a little at the
weakness of his knees and the slight unsteadiness of the hand upholding
glass or match. Vladimir de Windt, Ivan's acknowledged chum, was doubly
concerned and doubly restless. He shuffled his chair from group to
group, his eyes asking anxious and unanswerable questions of each
comrade with whom he discussed the state of the weather. And, indeed,
the great doubt in his mind was echoed in that of every man present:
what would be the outcome of Ivan's audacity? If Brodsky took the
remonstrance in bad part--and who doubted that he would?--what would be
the fate of Gregoriev? Poor fellow! He had undertaken a quixotic task;
and more than one of his fellow-officer