The horses were brought. Denísov was angry with the Cossack because the saddle girths were too slack, reproved him, and mounted. Pétya put his foot in the stirrup. His horse by habit made as if to nip his leg, but Pétya leaped quickly into the saddle unconscious of his own weight and, turning to look at the hussars starting in the darkness behind him, rode up to Denísov.

“Vasíli Fëdorovich, entrust me with some commission! Please⁠ ⁠… for God’s sake⁠ ⁠… !” said he.

Denísov seemed to have forgotten Pétya’s very existence. He turned to glance at him.

“I ask one thing of you,” he said sternly, “to obey me and not shove yourself forward anywhere.”