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Chapter 2.
Sergey Ivanovitch and Katavasov had only just reached the station
of the Kursk line, which was particularly busy and full of people that
day, when, looking round for the groom who was following with their
things, they saw a party of volunteers driving up in four cabs. Ladies
met them with bouquets of flowers, and followed by the rushing crowd
they went into the station.
One of the ladies, who had met the volunteers, came out of the hall
and addressed Sergey Ivanovitch.
“You too come to see them off?” she asked in French.
“No, I’m going away myself, princess. To my brother’s for a holiday.
Do you always see them of?” said Sergey Ivanovitch with a hardly
perceptible smile.
“Oh, that would be impossible!” answered the princess. “Is it true
that eight hundred have been sent from us already? Malvinsky wouldn’t
believe me.”
“More than eight hundred. If you reckon those who have been
sent not directly from Moscow, over a thousand,” answered Sergey
Ivanovitch.
“There! That’s just what I said!” exclaimed the lady. “And it’s true
too, I suppose, that more than a million has been subscribed?”
“Yes, princess.”
“What do you say to today’s telegram? Beaten the Turks again.”
“Yes, so I saw,” answered Sergey Ivanovitch. They were speaking
of the last telegram stating that the Turks had been for three days in
succession beaten at all points and put to flight, and that tomorrow a
decisive engagement was expected.
“Ah, by the way, a splendid young fellow has asked leave to go, and
they’ve made some difficulty, I don’t know why. I meant to ask you; I
know him; please write a note about his case. He’s being sent by
Countess Lidia Ivanovna.”
Sergey Ivanovitch asked for all the details the princess knew about
the young man, and going into the first-class waiting-room, wrote a
note to the person on whom the granting of leave of absence de-
pended, and handed it to the princess.
“You know Count Vronsky, the notorious one...is going by this
train?” said the princess with a smile full of triumph and meaning,
when he found her again and gave her the letter.
“I had heard he was going, but I did not know when. By this
train?”
“I’ve seen him. He’s here: there’s only his mother seeing him off.
It’s the best thing, anyway, that he could do.”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
While they were talking the crowd streamed by them into the
dining room. They went forward too, and heard a gentleman with a
glass in his hand delivering a loud discourse to the volunteers. “In the
service of religion, humanity, and our brothers,” the gentleman said, his
voice growing louder and louder; “to this great cause mother Moscow
dedicates you with her blessing. Jivio!” he concluded, loudly and tear-
fully.
Everyone shouted Jivio! and a fresh crowd dashed into the hall,