But their talk did not dwell upon the present terrible position of Sevastopol, as though each of them had meditated too much on that subject to allude to it again. In the same way, to Volodya's great amazement and disappointment, not a word was said about the duties of the service which he was to fulfil, just as though he had come to Sevastopol merely for the purpose of telling about the new cannon and dining with the commander of the battery. While they were at dinner, a bomb fell not far from the house in which they were seated. The walls and the floor trembled, as though in an earthquake, and the window was obscured with the smoke of the powder. “You did not see anything of this sort in Petersburg, I fancy; but these surprises often take place here,” said the battery commander. “Look out, Vlang, and see where it burst.” Vlang looked, and reported that it had burst on the square, and then there was nothing more said about the bomb. Just before the end of the dinner, an old man, the clerk of the battery, entered the room, with three sealed envelopes, and handed them to the commander. “This is very important; a messenger has this moment brought these from the chief of the artillery.” All the officers gazed, with impatient curiosity, at the commander's practised fingers as they broke the seal of the envelope and drew forth the _very important_ paper. “What can it be?” each one asked himself. It might be that they were to march out of Sevastopol for a rest, it might be an order for the whole battery to betake themselves to the bastions. “Again!” said the commander, flinging the paper angrily on the table. “What's it about, Apollon Sergiéitch?” inquired the eldest officer. “An officer and crew are required for a mortar battery over yonder, and I have only four officers, and there is not a full gun-crew in the line,” growled the commander: “and here more are demanded of me. But some one must go, gentlemen,” he said, after a brief pause: “the order requires him to be at the barrier at seven o'clock.... Send the sergeant! Who is to go, gentlemen? decide,” he repeated. “Well, here's one who has never been yet,” said Tchernovitzky, pointing to Volodya. The commander of the battery made no reply. “Yes, I should like to go,” said Volodya, as he felt the cold sweat start out on his back and neck. “No; why should you? There's no occasion!” broke in the captain. “Of course, no one will refuse, but neither is it proper to ask any one; but if Apollon Sergiéitch will permit us, we will draw lots, as we did once before.” All agreed to this. Kraut cut some paper into bits, folded them up, and dropped them into a cap. The captain jested, and even plucked up the audacity, on this occasion, to ask the colonel for wine, to keep up their courage, he said. Dyadenko sat in gloomy silence, Volodya smiled at something or other, Tchernovitzky declared that it would infallibly fall to him, Kraut was perfectly composed.