“I, I⁠ ⁠… I’ll go with you!” cried Pétya.

“There’s no need for you to go at all,” said Denísov, addressing Dólokhov, “and as for him, I won’t let him go on any account.”

“I like that!” exclaimed Pétya. “Why shouldn’t I go?”

“Because it’s useless.”

“Well, you must excuse me, because⁠ ⁠… because⁠ ⁠… I shall go, and that’s all. You’ll take me, won’t you?” he said, turning to Dólokhov.

“Why not?” Dólokhov answered absently, scrutinizing the face of the French drummer boy. “Have you had that youngster with you long?” he asked Denísov.

“He was taken today but he knows nothing. I’m keeping him with me.”

“Yes, and where do you put the others?” inquired Dólokhov.