"Why didn't I hit him? I ought to have given him one in the jaw. I
might have used my sword. I had my revolver, too, in my pocket. I ought
to have shot him like a dog. How came I to forget the revolver? Well,
after all, perhaps it's just as well that I didn't. Suppose I had
killed him? It would have been a matter for the police. One of those
other fellows might have had a revolver, too! A pretty state of things,
eh? At all events, nobody knows that I had a weapon on me, and by
degrees, the whole thing will blow over."
Tanaroff looked cautiously round before he drew out his revolver and
placed it in the table drawer.
"I shall have to go to the colonel at once, and explain to him that I
had nothing whatever to do with the matter," he thought, as he locked
the drawer. Then an irresistible impulse seized him to go to the
officer's mess, and, as an eye-witness, describe exactly what took
place. The officers had already heard about the affair in the public
gardens, and they hurried back to the brilliantly lighted mess-rooms to
give vent in heated language to their indignation. They were really
rather pleased at Sarudine's discomfiture, since often enough his
smartness and elegance in dress and demeanour had served to put them in
the shade.
Tanaroff was hailed with undisguised curiosity. He felt that he was the
hero of the hour as he began to give a detailed account of the whole
incident. In his narrow black eyes there was a look of hatred for the
friend who had always been his superior. He thought of the money
incident, and of Sarudine's condescending attitude towards him, and he
revenged himself for past slights by a minute description of his
comrade's defeat.
Meanwhile, forsaken and alone, Sarudine lay there upon his couch.
His soldier-servant, who had learnt the whole truth elsewhere, moved
noiselessly about, looking sad and anxious as before. He set the tea-
things ready, fetched some wine, and drove the dog out of the room as
it leaped about for joy at the sight of its master.
After a while the man came back on tiptoe. "Your Excellency had better
have a little wine," he whispered.
"Eh? What?" exclaimed Sarudine, opening his eyes and shutting them
again instantly. In a tone which he thought severe, but which was
really piteous, he could just move his swollen lips sufficiently to
say: "Bring me the looking-glass."
The servant sighed, brought the mirror, and held a candle close to it.