“But I questioned him,” said Tíkhon. “He said he didn’t know much. ‘There are a lot of us,’ he says, ‘but all poor stuff⁠—only soldiers in name,’ he says. ‘Shout loud at them,’ he says, ‘and you’ll take them all,’ ” Tíkhon concluded, looking cheerfully and resolutely into Denísov’s eyes.

“I’ll give you a hundwed sharp lashes⁠—that’ll teach you to play the fool!” said Denísov severely.

“But why are you angry?” remonstrated Tíkhon, “just as if I’d never seen your Frenchmen! Only wait till it gets dark and I’ll fetch you any of them you want⁠—three if you like.”

“Well, let’s go,” said Denísov, and rode all the way to the watchhouse in silence and frowning angrily.

Tíkhon followed behind and Pétya heard the Cossacks laughing with him and at him, about some pair of boots he had thrown into the bushes.