All the way Pétya had been preparing himself to behave with Denísov as befitted a grown-up man and an officer⁠—without hinting at their previous acquaintance. But as soon as Denísov smiled at him Pétya brightened up, blushed with pleasure, forgot the official manner he had been rehearsing, and began telling him how he had already been in a battle near Vyázma and how a certain hussar had distinguished himself there.

“Well, I am glad to see you,” Denísov interrupted him, and his face again assumed its anxious expression.

“Mikháil Feoklítych,” said he to the esaul , “this is again fwom that German, you know. He”⁠—he indicated Pétya⁠—“is serving under him.”

And Denísov told the esaul that the dispatch just delivered was a repetition of the German general’s demand that he should join forces with him for an attack on the transport.