It was plain to see that the count was in a bad humor; it must have been owing to weariness, to the dust on his face, to his tightly-fitting clothes, and to his empty stomach. "Johann!" he cried again, "give me an account of those ten rubles. What did you get in town?" The count looked over the account which the servant handed him, and made some dissatisfied remarks about the high prices paid. "Give me the rum for the tea." "I did not get any rum," said Johann. "Delightful! How many times have I told you always to have rum?" "I didn't have money enough." "Why didn't Polózof buy it? You might have got some from his man." "The cornet Polózof? I do not know. He bought tea and sugar." "Beast! Get you gone. You are the only man who has the power to exhaust my patience! You know that I always take rum in my tea when I am on the march." "Here are two letters one of the staff brought for you," said the body-servant. The count, as he lay on the bed, tore open the letters, and began to read them. At this moment the cornet came in with gay countenance, having quartered the battalion. "Well, how is it, Turbin? It's first-rate here, seems to me. I am tired out, I confess it. It has been a warm day." "First-rate! I should think so! A dirty, stinking hut! and no rum, thanks to you. Your stupid did not buy any, nor this one either. You might have said something anyway!" And he went on with his reading. After he had read the letter through, he crumpled it up, and threw it on the floor. "_Why_ didn't you buy some rum?" the cornet in a whisper demanded of his servant in the entry. "Didn't you have any money?" "Well, why should we be always the ones to spend the money? I have enough to spend for without that, and _his_ German does nothing but smoke his pipe,--that's all." The second letter was evidently not disagreeable, because the count smiled as he read it. "Who's that from?" asked Polózof, returning to the room, and trying to arrange for himself a couch on the floor, near the oven. "From Mina," replied the count gayly, handing him the letter. "Would you like to read it? What a lovely woman she is! Now, she's better than our young ladies, that's a fact. Just see what feeling and what wit in that letter! There's only one thing that I don't like,--she asks me for money!" "No, that's not pleasant," replied the cornet. "Well it's true I promised to give her some; but this expedition--And besides, if I am commander of the battalion, at the end of three months I will send some to her. I should not regret it; she's really a lovely woman. Isn't she?" he asked with a smile, following with his eyes Polózof's expression as he read the letter. "Horribly misspelled, but sweet; it seems to me she really loves you," replied the cornet. "Hm! I should think so! Only these women truly love when they do love." "But who was that other letter from?" asked the cornet, pointing to the one which he had read.