Mikhaïloff, not able to make up his mind, twice passed in front of the little group of _aristocrats_. The third time, making a violent effort, he approached them. The group was composed of four officers--the aide-de-camp Kalouguine, whom Mikhaïloff was acquainted with, the aide-de-camp Prince Galtzine, an _aristocrat_ to Kalouguine himself, Colonel Neferdoff, one of the _Hundred and Twenty-two_ (a group of society men who had re-entered the service for this campaign were thus called), lastly, Captain of Cavalry Praskoukine, who was also among the Hundred and Twenty-two. Happily for Mikhaïloff, Kalouguine was in charming spirits; the general had just spoken very confidentially to him, and Prince Galtzine, fresh from Petersburg, was stopping in his quarters, so he did not find it compromising to offer his hand to a second-captain. Praskoukine did not decide to do as much, although he had often met Mikhaïloff in the bastion, had drunk his wine and his brandy more than once, and owed him twelve rubles and a half, lost at a game of preference. Being only slightly acquainted with Prince Galtzine, he had no wish to call his attention to his intimacy with a simple second-captain of infantry. He merely saluted slightly. “Well, captain,” said Kalouguine, “when are we going back to the little bastion? You remember our meeting on the Schwartz redoubt? It was warm there, hey?” “Yes, it was warm there,” replied Mikhaïloff, remembering that night when, following the trench in order to reach the bastion, he had met Kalouguine marching with a grand air, bravely clattering his sword. “I would not have to return there until to-morrow, but we have an officer sick.” And he was going on to relate how, although it was not his turn on duty, he thought he ought to offer to replace Nepchissetzky, because the commander of the eighth company was ill, and only an ensign remained, but Kalouguine did not give him time to finish. “I have a notion,” said he, turning towards Prince Galtzine, “that something will come off in a day or two.” “But why couldn’t something come off to-day?” timidly asked Mikhaïloff, looking first at Kalouguine and then at Galtzine. No one replied. Galtzine made a slight grimace, and looking to one side over Mikhaïloffs cap, said, after a moment’s silence, “What a pretty girl!--yonder, with the red kerchief. Do you know her, captain?” “It is a sailor’s daughter. She lives close by me,” he replied. “Let’s look at her closer.”