are drinking here and the yagers are freezing there in
the yard. Sport is sport! Judge, give them a keg of brandy; the Major will
permit it; let the bold yagers have a drink!"

"I might beg the favour," said the Major, "but you are not forced to grant
it."

"Judge," whispered Robak, "give 'em a keg of spirits."

And thus, while the merry staff tippled in the mansion, outside the house
there began a drinking bout among the troops.

Captain Rykov drained cup after cup in silence; but the Major drank and at
the same time paid court to the ladies, and the ardour for dancing
continually increased within him. He threw aside his pipe and seized
Telimena's hand; he was eager to dance, but she ran away; so he went up to
Zosia, and bowing and tottering invited her to open the mazurka.

"Hey you, Rykov, stop pulling at your pipe! Put away your pipe; you play
the balalaika well. You see that guitar there; go, get the guitar and give
us a mazurka! I, the Major, will lead out in the first couple."

The Captain took the guitar and began to tune it; Plut again urged
Telimena to dance:--

"On the word of a Major, madam, I am not a Russian if I lie! May I be the
son of a bitch if I lie! Ask, and all the officers will bear witness, all
the army will tell you that in the second army, ninth corps, second
division of infantry, fiftieth yager regiment, Major Plut is the foremost
dancer of the mazurka. Come on, young lady! Don't be so skittish, for I
shall punish you in officer's fashion."

So saying he jumped up, seized Telimena's hand, and imprinted a broad kiss
on her white shoulder; but Thaddeus, darting in from the side, slapped his
face. The kiss and the blow resounded together, one after the other, as
word after word.

The Major was dumbfounded, rubbed his eyes, and, pale with wrath, shouted,
"Rebellion, a rebel!"--and, drawing his sword, rushed to run him through.
Then the Monk took a pistol from his sleeve, and cried: "Shoot, Thaddeus,
aim for the bull's eye." Thaddeus at once seized it, aimed, and shot; he
missed, but he deafened and scorched the Major. Rykov started up with his
guitar, crying, "Rebellion! rebellion!" and made for Thaddeus; but from
the other side of the table the Seneschal swung his arm with a left-hand
motion, and a knife whistled through the air between the heads of the
company and struck before they saw it flash. It struck the bottom of the
guitar and pierced it through and through; Rykov dodged and thus