soft mud. Rostdv joined them. In the middle of the game, the officers saw some wagons approaching with fifteen hussars on their skinny horses behind them. The wagons escorted by the hussars drew up to the picket ropes and a crowd of hussars surrounded them.
"There now, Denísov has been worrying," said Rostóv, "and here are the provisions."
"So they are!" said the officers. "Won't the soldiers be glad!"
A little behind the hussars came Denísov, accompanied by two infantry officers with whom he was talking.
Rostóv went to meet them.
"I warn you, Captain," one of the officers, a short thin man, evidently very angry, was saying.
"Haven't I told you I won't give them up?" replied Denísov.
"You will answer for it, Captain. It is mutiny seizing the transport of one's own army.
Our men have had nothing to eat for two days."
"And mine have had nothing for two weeks," said Denísov.
"It is robbery! You'll answer for it, sir!" said the infantry officer, raising his voice.
"Now, what are you pestewing me for?" cried Denísov, suddenly losing his temper. "I shall answer for it and not you, and you'd better not buzz about here till you get hurt. Be off I Go!" he shouted at the officers.
"Very well, then!" shouted the little officer, undaunted and not riding away. "If you are determined to rob, I'll . . ."
"Go to the devil! quick ma'ch, while you're safe and sound!" and Denísov turned his horse on the officer.
"Very well, very well!" muttered the officer, threateningly, and turning his horse he trotted away, jolting in his saddle.
"A dog astwide a fence! A weal dog astwide a fence!" shouted Denfsov after him (the most insulting expression a cavalryman can address to a mounted infantryman) and riding up to Rostóv, he burst out laughing. "I've taken twansports from the infantwy by force!" he said. "After all, can't let our men starve."
The wagons that had reached the hussars had been consigned to an infantry regiment, but learning from Lavrúshka that the transport was unescorted, Denísov with his hussars had seized it by force. The soldiers had biscuits dealt out to them freely, and they even shared them with the other squadrons.
The next day the regimental commander sent for Denísov, and holding his fingers spread out before his eyes said: "This is how I look at this affair: I know nothing about it and won't begin proceedings, but I advise you to ride over to the staff and settle the business there in the commissariat department and if possible sign a receipt for such and such stores received. If not, as the demand was booked against an infantry regiment, there will be a row and the affair may end badly."
From the regimental commander's, Denísov rode straight to the staff with a sincere desire to act on this advice. In the evening he came back to his dugout in a state such as Rostov had never yet seen him in. Denísov could not speak and gasped for breath. When Rostov asked what was the matter, he only uttered some incoherent oaths and threats in a hoarse, feeble voice.
Alarmed at Denísov's condition, Rostóv suggested that he should undress, drink some water, and send for the doctor.
"Twy me for wobbewy ... oh! Some more water . . . Let them twy me, but I'll always thwash scoundwels . . . and I'll tell the Empe- wo' . . . Ice . . ." he muttered.
The regimental doctor, when he came, said it was absolutely necessary to bleed Denísov. A deep saucer of black blood was taken from his hairy arm and only then was he able to relate what had happened to him.
"I get there," began Denfsov. " 'Now then, where's your chief's quarters?' They were pointed out. 'Please to wait.' 'I've widden twenty miles and have duties to attend to and no time to wait. Announce me/ Vewy well, so out comes their head chief also took it into his head to lecture me: 'It's wobbewy!' 'Wobbewy,' I say, 'is not done by a man who seizes pwovisions to feed his soldiers, but by him who takes them to fill his own pockets!' 'Will you please be silent?' 'Vewy good!' Then he says: 'Go and give a weceipt to the commissioner, but your affair will be passed on to headquarters.' I go to the commissioner. I enter, and at the table . . . who do you think? No, but wait a bit! . . . Who is it that's starving us?" shouted Denísov, hitting the table with the fist of his newly bled arm so violently that the table nearly broke down and the tumblers on it jumped about. "Telyánin! 'What? So it's you who's starving us to death! Is it? Take this and this!' and I hit him so pat, stwaight on his snout . . . 'Ah, what a . . .what . . . 1'and I sta'ted f washing him . . .Well, I've had a bit of fun I can tell you!" cried Denísov, gleeful and yet angry, his white
